Christmas 2017

[Moliere]

Merry Xmas everyone! Slept in until 7 and now time for presents!


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[Northwestcoug]

It’s 7am and the kids still haven’t come downstairs. I don’t know if it’s because the heater stopped working sometime last night (62 degrees currently) or because they’ve grown up. But I’ll take it.

[wuapinmon]

6:01AM....I told them "not before 6AM." I was sleepy right until we finished opening gifts. Now, I am tired, but not sleepy.

[Jeff Lebowski]

Merry Christmas everyone!

[happyone]

Happy Christmas everyone - Ms. Happyone and I slept in till about 8. 2 of the kids our home for the holidays. However, they were never the early risers even when they were little.

It snowed most of yesterday so we have our White Christmas. I now have to go and shovel

[BigPiney]

Bought myself a sous vide thingy for Christmas. Can't wait to peruse that thread on hear and learn wisdom.

Also surprised my wife with an Osprey pack. She thinks I'm the best.

Merry Christmas everyone.

[Moliere]

MJs Xmas present to me



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[Northwestcoug]

Niiiice, Moliere.
I’m rooting for the upset!

[Clark Addison]

MJs Xmas present to me



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Hey, I know some other Houston Mormons who are there. Say Hi to Mark and Jen if you see them.

[MartyFunkhouser]

Merry Christmas.

The son woke us up at 6:10 which isn't bad at all. We continued our tradition of not exchanging presents, just giving gifts to the kid.

We are relaxing after a dinner of homemade french onion soup, NY strip steak given to us from a recently slaughtered cow, and Aberlour a'bunadh scotch.

[old_gregg]

watched the pope at midnight and up at 7 () for brunch at the fairmont, then home for presents. thought i won christmas with the surprise louis v, but my wife got the speedmaster i’ve had my eye on for a while. merry christmas, friendos.

[Applejack]

MJs Xmas present to me



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You are at the Heart of Dallas bowl???? You are an amazing bandwagoner! GO UTES!!

[Donuthole]

Merry Christmas! Just finished with presents. Time to hit the hay.

I’ll be up for several more hours. Idiocy doesn’t recognize the Christmas holiday.

This year was brutal for me in the Santa's elf department. My 3 y.o. baby girl is infatuated with cooking and has been asking for a bigger kitchen (we have a small Little Tykes one) with some metal pots and pans. Mrs. D ordered one, and I decided to get ahead of the game and assemble it early (on Thursday night). Holy eff! 257 parts! I finished 4hrs and 15 mins after I started, and I'm not an idiot when it comes to building and/or tools. I actually sort of knew what I was in for when I saw the brand, as I had assembled a dollhouse from the same brand a couple years ago.

On top of that, I had two bikes to assemble on Christmas Eve, which wouldn't have been too bad, except one of the bikes was missing a couple parts (Grrr--I improvised with my own supply of fasteners, but still) and the other bike's hand brakes had not been assembled, attached, or wired through the frame (despite the instructions ensuring me this was done at the factory). So what I expected to be a 1-hr job for two bikes ended up being 3 hrs (and I still probably need to take my son's bike to a bike shop to have them fine-tune the brakes).

Now for the sad part. By the time I was done with my early assembly of the play kitchen on Thursday night, it was after 2 am. The thing was heavy and awkward, so I asked Mrs. D to help me move it to the next-door neighbor's garage (where we were storing the Santa stuff). She suggested we put it at the back of our storage closet under the stairs and throw a blanket over it. I worried that someone might see it, so I suggested we at least move it to our closet, where we could keep our bedroom door locked. But I was tired so, when Mrs. D said she thought it would be fine in the storage closet, I acquiesced. After all, our kids rarely go into this closet (I added the closet when we moved in by cutting in and framing a door under the stairs, so it's not dry walled and there's only a pull-chain light--old school!). I worked half-day Friday, and then we hit the road to go spend a couple of nights in St. Double G with my parents before Christmas.

Well, apparently while helping Mrs. D get packed for our trip on Friday, our oldest daughter, H, went into the closet looking for some sleeping bags. Later that morning, she casually asked Mrs. D "Mom, what did M ask for from Santa?" Mrs. D wasn't really connecting the dots at that point, and said "a kitchen". Later, H cornered Mrs. D and asked if Santa is real. It was right in front of our 6 year old, so Mrs. D quickly reassured her that Santa is real, but suggested they talk about it more at another time. But by then, Mrs. D realized that H had likely gone looking for sleeping bags and stumbled into the play kitchen. While in St. G, H waited for the right moment and then said "Mom, can we have that talk now?" So 36 hours before Christmas, my daughter learned that Santa isn't real. She was noticeably bummed, but took it well, all in all. According to Mrs. D, H's first statement after learning the truth was "wow, I feel bad for asking for such big stuff. I thought I was doing you and dad a favor by making sure to ask for the big stuff from Santa."

Which brings me to the silver lining. H was not a young child with many Santa years ahead of her. Rather, she turned 12 a couple months ago. She got to believe for longer than most. It has actually blown my mind and simultaneously concerned me that she has never shown any doubt at all about the reality of Santa. I wanted to tell her after last Christmas, so she didn't go into middle school as the only kid who believes in Santa. But this idea was soundly rejected by Mrs. D, who has threatened me with death, or worse, if I take it upon myself to tell any of our kids about Santa before they ask. When Mrs. D asked me what I wanted for Christmas a few weeks back, I jokingly said "All I want for Christmas is for H to learn that Santa isn't real. I hesitated a beat and then added "before next Christmas." It became a sort of running gag between us over the last few weeks. Still, after another full year of believing, I didn't want H to find out just a day before Christmas. So while I am glad that my pre-teen knows about Santa, I am saddened that it happened when it happened. Another week wouldn't have hurt, and would have afforded her one more magical Christmas morning.

I'd be lying if I didn't admit that a small part of me laughed at the fact that it was Mrs. D's own decision that caused H to find out. But while a younger, less wise DH would have seized the opportunity to point this out, my 16+ years of marital wisdom helped me realize that Mrs. D was already beating herself up for this. So I chose, instead, to console her by pointing out that 1) we now have someone to help us with that Elf on the Shelf emm-effer, and 2) we are fortunate that it was H and not one of the other kids who saw the play kitchen.

Last night, after the presents had all been opened and we were settling down to watch a movie, I was out in the kitchen alone, making myself a snack. H came up to me and gave me a hug and said "Thanks for the bike, dad. And for all the stuff Santa brought me for other Christmases." Needless to say, it was a bittersweet Christmas for the DH household, and I learned the hard way that sometimes getting what you want for Christmas isn't always as good as it sounds.

/catharsis

[Topper]

This year was brutal for me in the Santa's elf department. My 3 y.o. baby girl is infatuated with cooking and has been asking for a bigger kitchen (we have a small Little Tykes one) with some metal pots and pans. Mrs. D ordered one, and I decided to get ahead of the game and assemble it early (on Thursday night). Holy eff! 257 parts! I finished 4hrs and 15 mins after I started, and I'm not an idiot when it comes to building and/or tools. I actually sort of knew what I was in for when I saw the brand, as I had assembled a dollhouse from the same brand a couple years ago.

On top of that, I had two bikes to assemble on Christmas Eve, which wouldn't have been too bad, except one of the bikes was missing a couple parts (Grrr--I improvised with my own supply of fasteners, but still) and the other bike's hand brakes had not been assembled, attached, or wired through the frame (despite the instructions ensuring me this was done at the factory). So what I expected to be a 1-hr job for two bikes ended up being 3 hrs (and I still probably need to take my son's bike to a bike shop to have them fine-tune the brakes).

Now for the sad part. By the time I was done with my early assembly of the play kitchen on Thursday night, it was after 2 am. The thing was heavy and awkward, so I asked Mrs. D to help me move it to the next-door neighbor's garage (where we were storing the Santa stuff). She suggested we put it at the back of our storage closet under the stairs and throw a blanket over it. I worried that someone might see it, so I suggested we at least move it to our closet, where we could keep our bedroom door locked. But I was tired so, when Mrs. D said she thought it would be fine in the storage closet, I acquiesced. After all, our kids rarely go into this closet (I added the closet when we moved in by cutting in and framing a door under the stairs, so it's not dry walled and there's only a pull-chain light--old school!). I worked half-day Friday, and then we hit the road to go spend a couple of nights in St. Double G with my parents before Christmas.

Well, apparently while helping Mrs. D get packed for our trip on Friday, our oldest daughter, H, went into the closet looking for some sleeping bags. Later that morning, she casually asked Mrs. D "Mom, what did M ask for from Santa?" Mrs. D wasn't really connecting the dots at that point, and said "a kitchen". Later, H cornered Mrs. D and asked if Santa is real. It was right in front of our 6 year old, so Mrs. D quickly reassured her that Santa is real, but suggested they talk about it more at another time. But by then, Mrs. D realized that H had likely gone looking for sleeping bags and stumbled into the play kitchen. While in St. G, H waited for the right moment and then said "Mom, can we have that talk now?" So 36 hours before Christmas, my daughter learned that Santa isn't real. She was noticeably bummed, but took it well, all in all. According to Mrs. D, H's first statement after learning the truth was "wow, I feel bad for asking for such big stuff. I thought I was doing you and dad a favor by making sure to ask for the big stuff from Santa."

Which brings me to the silver lining. H was not a young child with many Santa years ahead of her. Rather, she turned 12 a couple months ago. She got to believe for longer than most. It has actually blown my mind and simultaneously concerned me that she has never shown any doubt at all about the reality of Santa. I wanted to tell her after last Christmas, so she didn't go into middle school as the only kid who believes in Santa. But this idea was soundly rejected by Mrs. D, who has threatened me with death, or worse, if I take it upon myself to tell any of our kids about Santa before they ask. When Mrs. D asked me what I wanted for Christmas a few weeks back, I jokingly said "All I want for Christmas is for H to learn that Santa isn't real. I hesitated a beat and then added "before next Christmas." It became a sort of running gag between us over the last few weeks. Still, after another full year of believing, I didn't want H to find out just a day before Christmas. So while I am glad that my pre-teen knows about Santa, I am saddened that it happened when it happened. Another week wouldn't have hurt, and would have afforded her one more magical Christmas morning.

I'd be lying if I didn't admit that a small part of me laughed at the fact that it was Mrs. D's own decision that caused H to find out. But while a younger, less wise DH would have seized the opportunity to point this out, my 16+ years of marital wisdom helped me realize that Mrs. D was already beating herself up for this. So I chose, instead, to console her by pointing out that 1) we now have someone to help us with that Elf on the Shelf emm-effer, and 2) we are fortunate that it was H and not one of the other kids who saw the play kitchen.

Last night, after the presents had all been opened and we were settling down to watch a movie, I was out in the kitchen alone, making myself a snack. H came up to me and gave me a hug and said "Thanks for the bike, dad. And for all the stuff Santa brought me for other Christmases." Needless to say, it was a bittersweet Christmas for the DH household, and I learned the hard way that sometimes getting what you want for Christmas isn't always as good as it sounds.

/catharsis

Good story, poignant but good.

For those of us with grown children, these memories fade, unless penned. Merry Christmas and a Joyous New Year to the D family.

[Green Monstah]

My oldest told us that all she wanted for Christmas was a new phone. She got an iphone 6 with 16GB two years ago, and the battery is fried and she has no memory left.

We got her an iPhone 8 Plus, with 256GB (she's pretty techy and likes to make videos for class projects, etc.). She got a case and screen protector and some other minor gifts, but that was it.

Near the end, when her 2 year old sister had several cheap toys under the tree, and no one had any other presents, I could tell she was a little sad. I pulled her aside and asked if she was alright. She said, "Dad, I wasn't even excited to wake up this morning. I wanted to sleep more than I wanted to get up. I love the phone, but this year, Christmas changed. I'm a little bummed, but I know I shouldn't be. I got exactly what I asked for." I gave her a big hug and told her I understood.

Why do they have to grow up??!!