Why are all the Fairies in our Lives so Damn Slow?

Henry - Apologizing for his Lateness

My kids have been asking me this a lot lately (minus the word “damn” of course).  We haven't had a good track record with "Fairies" in our family recently.  Our Tooth Fairy took nearly a week to remember to pick up a simple tooth.  Henry the Shelf-Elf hangs out on the Christmas tree like he's on vacation - Santa's not getting any feedback from our little elf.  About the only family "Fairy" to consistently get it right has been the Csunya Neni and she's really more of a Witch than a Fairy. 

The Tooth Fairy was the first big disappointment.  Every night for a week Renton would put his tooth under his pillow and every morning he'd wake to disappointment.  The nerve of that woman!  And it happened more than once.  Three teeth in fact!  With the last sad failure to meet punctuality standards, the Tooth Fairy had to exchange a few letters with Renton, explaining how she was a bit overworked, but that she still loved Renton and his teeth and would never forget him completely.  This smoothed things over, but I believe the experience will stick with him.  He’s told me that from now on, as soon as his teeth start wiggling, he’s going to put messages out for the Tooth Fairy giving her a heads up so his tooth doesn’t spend a week wasting a away under his pillow.  (This sounds vaguely familiar - like when my friends let it out of the bag that they had started adding 30 minutes BEFORE the actual time for events and meetups with them, just so I’d actually get there on time.  So THAT was it!  I just thought my friends had started arriving late as well.)

Anyway, Christmas time is here and along with it, the tradition of the shelf-elf.  I don’t know WHY I introduced this little guy into my family last year.  It’s not as if I wasn’t already overwhelmed with life.  Adding another elf into it certainly wasn’t going to make things any easier for ME.  But I think, as I commented in the Cookie Cutter Traditions post, that I was desperately trying to make up for “missing family connections” by installing some “classic” traditions into ours.  (I have now come to realize – thanks largely to the supportive feedback of friends and family - that my little band of merry children will undoubtedly remember the traditions that occur naturally in our home whether I force them on us or not.)  

So last year, Henry (our little elf) was pretty good.  Mind you, I do NOT do all the fun and crazy activities that many of my friends do with their elves.  I will also tell you that if I HAD the time I would LOVE to be creative and spontaneous and crazy with the elf; delighting at the giggles and gleams in my children’s eyes every morning, and pleasing myself with my ingenuity.  (Though I would NEVER do the messy tricks.  I prefer an OCD elf, thank you very much.)  My lack of creativity has nothing to do with any moral stance against teaching my children to expect miracles and joy around Christmas.  I’d love to instill this kind of wonder and belief in them.  Life itself will teach them otherwise soon enough – if it hasn’t already.  But the simple fact is, I was happy with myself for even PURCHASING the elf and putting him on the tree.

This year, Henry has fallen fall short of all our expectations.  He arrived with our tree (as he always does), but then he promptly decided to be lazy and just hang around “watching.”  One morning, about three days after he arrived, I watched Renton out of the corner of my eye, move Henry from the tree to the bookshelf.  “Mom!  Look!  Henry moved!!!”  He shouted with glee!  Emily and Micky came running to see the miracle of the moving Elf!  “Wow!”  I added, playing along.  “When do you think he did that?  I didn’t see him do it?  Did you?”  “No way.” Insisted Renton.  “He must have just been tired.  But he’s moving now.”

My little Renton – he’s already filling in the spaces where I am falling short.  There was a little pang of sadness in my heart that Renton felt the need to move Henry (or that he even lost even the slightest belief in him that he knew a PERSON had to move the little guy ‘cause he wasn’t doing it on his own).  But I was also extremely proud of Renton, that he realized how important this need to believe was, for all of us, for Emily and Micky, that he was willing to jump right in and keep the tradition going and not blow it for the little ones.

This weekend, I drove my kids down to my parents’ house in NC where they’d be staying for their first week of Christmas Vacation.  I forgot (big surprise here) to slip Henry into one of the suitcases (like I’d done last year) so that he could hitch a ride and keep watching them down in NC.  After reading the HILARIOUS post People I Want to Punch in the Throat: Over Achieving Elf on the Shelf Mommies, my mom looked at me and said, “What about your shelf elf?  What are you going to do now that yours is still stuck up in NC?”  I hung my head in shame.  “I don’t know.  Maybe Henry can send the kids letters everyday and tell them that he wanted to stay up in VA and keep an eye on Mommy to make sure she was being good.”

“I’ve got an idea!” my mom exclaimed!  “I have these great red velvet bags.  I can leave one out each morning for the kids with a note or a little something in it from your shelf elf.  Then they can feel like he’s still watching them.”  Great idea!  And my mom is one of those who can whip up creative ideas in her sleep, so I KNEW she’d do something fun with the kids with this and they’d be happy and willing to have faith in the spirit of Christmas again.

This morning I called to talk to the kids and see how things had gone last night for my mom (hoping, at the very least, that there had been no visits from the poop monster).

“Oh dear” my mom started.  “Henry failed again.” 

“What do you mean?” I asked, actually a little confused at this point because I’d already forgotten about the shelf elf AGAIN.

“I got the kids all excited about the red bags, then forgot to put them out.  I told them they were hiding somewhere in the house, but the kids have literally looked everywhere and obviously can’t find them.”

Just then, Renton jumped on the phone.  In the most pitiful voice you can imagine (and if you know Renton, you know how pitiful he can sound) he said to me, “This has been the biggest disappointment, Mommy.  I have looked everywhere.  Nothing.”

“Oh, sweetheart."  I reassured him, already spinning the comforting lies.  "We forgot to let Henry know you were going to be down at Gramma and Grampa’s this week!  When I get home from work today I will let him know.  I’m sure he’ll straighten everything out.”

“Okay, Mommy.”  Renton answered, already sounding a bit more cheerful. 

“But tell Henry to quit hanging around with the Tooth Fairy.  She’s a bad influence.”

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Reflecting on Last Christmas

Christmas in NC - 2010
Renton, Micky, Emily

Christmas is one of those times that you can mark the passing of a year by.  It always makes me stop and think, because I am always amazed by HOW MUCH has happened in the previous year and HOW FAR my family and I have come.

This time last year, the court had FINALLY seen fit to finalize a separation agreement (a YEAR after the separation started) and we were suddenly faced with implementing a new visitation schedule.  December 18th-  the very day we were driving down to my parents to spend the week before Christmas in NC - I was informed by the judge that as despicable as P was, "every father deserves to be with his kids on Christmas."  The fact that we'd already made plans was my "fault" and we were to bring the kids back up to VA for a four-hour visitation on the day of Christmas.  They were hard words to hear, and while I understood the principal, I also KNEW the burden the kids were about to face with the interrupted Christmas Break and a rather sudden reunion with their father (he'd been prevented by a Protective Order from seeing them at all for the past 5 months) on a rather momentous day.  Well, it wasn't the first time we'd had to adapt, and ultimately, as frustrated as I was, I knew we would adapt again.

THEN CAME THE SNOW!  The Blizzard of 2010!  Remember it?  Well it snowed us in . . . in NC.  We tried and tried to get out.  My Dad even followed us down the little back roads (in case we slid into a ditch) in a futile attempt to get to the highway to get back to VA.  I was slipping and sliding, the kids were crying, P was texting me every 5 seconds that I'd "better get the kids back up there and he didn't care how I did it!"

Well, 2 hours and 10 miles later, after passing a dozen or more cars abandonned in ditches, I finally pulled into a little gas station and called it quits.  I didn't care. I wasn't putting the kids at risk and I would face the legal consequences if I had to.  Turned out, I didn't have to.  Thankfully, P didn't follow up on his threats to "drag me back into court."  We were able to get out two days later, and P had a make-up visitation with a few extra hours added on for the inconvenience.

Well . . . that was last year.  A lot has changed.  And a lot has stayed the same.  But we are better now than we were then.  And that's the most important thing.

This year we will be adapting to yet another visitation schedule.  My parents are coming in to town.  Barry is coming in to town.  And Santa is coming in to town!  But P has the kids for 8 hours Christmas Day.  It's not the way we'd like to do it, but we've decided to do most of our gift opening and dinner making and cookie eating the day BEFORE Christmas. Santa will be saved for early Christmas morning, then the kids will go off to be with their dad.  It will be ok because it's Christmas.  And a year has passed and we are blessed with our health, our sanity, and a roof over our head.  (And a few more presents than last year under the tree. :)

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Cookie Cutter Traditions

I really, really, really HATE making sugar cookies.  Hate it.  Did I mention I hate making sugar cookies?  But three years ago I decided that it was a Christmas tradition I wanted to give my children.  Not that I remember making sugar cookies growing up.  I really don't remember it.  But we have the cookie cutters, so we must have - right? 

They are a handful of very thin, tin, slightly rusty, Christmassy shaped cookie cutters that were always in the top drawer of the kitchen in EVERY house we lived in.  And that's saying a lot, because we lived in a LOT of houses growing up (10, to be exact, thank you to the US Air Force).  And so while I never remember actually using these to make Christmas cookies, I do remember them being in the drawer.  I remember the clinking sound they made when I'd fish through the drawer looking for the egg separating thingy, or some toothpicks, or that one special spoon I needed to play tea with my dolls.  And remembering them being there became more of a tradition to me than actually using them for their intended purpose. 

Three years ago, when my mom handed down the "family cookie cutters" to me in a little red box with a ribbon tied around it, I nearly cried.  The cookie cutters!  She could have given them to anyone in the family, but she gave them to me, and that gesture meant the world.  I wanted to do these cookie cutters justice, so making Christmas sugar cookies seemed like a no-brainer.

Um . . . wait a second . . . anyone out there know my kids?  Anything involving sugar and flour and fingers and the possibility of imperfection . . . not going to have a good ending in my house.  The first year I tried these cookie cutters out Renton was 4, Emily was 2 and I was 8 months pregnant with Micky.  I probably don't even need to explain the myriad of mishaps in that adventure.  As a matter of fact, I don't really even remember it - except I have pictures that still make me laugh.  I think the mixer was on the floor, the cookie sheets on the table, and the flour on everything.

Two years ago, I thought I'd try again.  It was our first Christmas entirely on our own.  It was a great time to reinforce family traditions, right?  In fact, maybe that was the driving force behind my wanting to make these damnable sugar cookies to begin with.  I want my kids to have TRADITIONS.  I've been afraid that in a "broken home" they won't remember the traditions or I won't have time to build traditions.  And so I pull out the cookie cutters, I make the dough, chill it (often for too long) in the fridge, and then plop the dough down in front of the kids to get busy making these Sugar Demons.

I mean really.  Last year was much like two years ago - except that Micky spent most of his time screaming and flailing on the floor in his new found 18 month old mania.  Even more flour ended up on the kids and the kitchen, and the cookies were misshapen and broken, but tasted good.

12 months later and I must be suffering from holiday amnesia because I was eagerly looking forward to using these cookie cutters again.  Tradition, right?  This year, Renton was sent to his room three times after acting out because he couldn't shape his cookies perfectly.  (Did I mention that these cookie cutters really pretty much suck?  They're too narrow or too thin to cut well and most of the cookies fall apart on their trek from the cutter to the cookie sheet.  This is not a good thing for an OCD child.)  Micky just kept molding and re-molding his blob of dough (not gonna eat anything that came out of that dough) then smashing down Emily and Renton's cookies to make them "better".  Emily was actually a little angel and made her cookies very nicely, dusted them with sugar and happily watched them baking in the oven . . . then burst into tears because I only let her eat two and not three before going to bed. 

So what's driving me to use these cookie cutters?  What's driving me to keep making these sugar cookies that I hate and make my kids insane?  Tradition?  I don't even remember making sugar cookies growing up.  But we have these cookie cutters, so we must have - right?  Not really.  I'm realizing now that it's entirely possible that we had these cutters because one year my Mom thought it was a good idea to make sugar cookies for Christmas, then realized that with four children, it was just an impossibility.  They became a tradition to me simply by being in the top drawer of every house I lived in growing up.  So what is the tradition that my kids will take with them?  Who even knows - it's usually not what you think it will be.  There is no such thing as a cookie cutter tradition.

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The Csunya Neni - A New Take on Trick-or-Treating

Micky (Skeleton), Emi (Dragon), Me (Anime School Girl), Renton (Bat)
Halloween 2009

I LOVE HALLOWEEN!  I don't think I can say that emphatically enough.  I LOVE HALLOWEEN!  But I've never been a big fan of candy, so when my kids started Trick-or-Treating, it was a big dilemma for me.  I wanted to allow them to go collect candy, but I didn't want them stuffing their faces with it for the next three months and turning into raging lunatics as a result.  (Okay, I know I can't really blame the candy on that, but still . . .)

The first year my kids started trick-or-treating (2007), it was just Renton (3) and Emily (1-1/2).  At that point it was pretty easy to simply "disappear" most of the candy and portion out the rest one piece at a time until the Easter Bunny brought more.  But in 2008, Renton turned four and was waaaaay to smart for me to pull that trick anymore.  So . . . I introduced the Csunya Neni to our Halloween tradition.  (Csunya Neni - pronounced "CHUNE ya NAY nee" - is the Hungarian word for witch.)

The tradition goes something like this:  Our family has a Csunya Neni that watches over us and keeps the bad luck away.  BUT she LOVES candy (that's why her skin and teeth are so yucky, because, you know, candy does that. :) and Halloween is her favorite day of the year!  On that day, we have to trick-or-treat to collect candy for our Csunya Neni so that she will stay with us and continue to protect us over the next year.  The Csunya Neni will come to our house that night, take the candy left for her and leave a small toy behind for the kids as a thank you.

The kids get to go around to all the houses, trick-or-treating, and collecting their candy.  When the bag or bucket gets too heavy for them to carry, then we head home.  Once home, each child finds a good spot on the kitchen floor, dumps everything out, and starts sorting.  They each get a small bowl into which they can put the candy they want to keep.  Once the bowl is full, that's it, no more candy.  The rest of the candy goes back into their plastic pumpkin buckets for the Csunya Neni!  (And just so you know, OUR Csunya Neni LOVES peanut butter cups - so the more of those the kids can leave for her the better.)  This is also the perfect time for Mommy to look over the loot with the kids and throw out anything that looks suspicious or dangerous.


Emily Sorting her candy . . . (2010)

The kids absolutely LOVE this tradition!  It's so much fun and they don't even notice that they've been left with only 10 pieces of candy or so.  Halloween night is like Christmas at our house and the kids go screaming down the stairs the next morning to see what Csunya Neni has left for them.

Any left over candy gets sorted through by Mommy who secretly stashes away her favorites (thank you for the peanut butter cups) and gives the rest away to our deployed troops.  (One good non-profit group is A Smile for the Troops)

Just last year, Renton told me he was talking to his friends at school about his "Csunya Neni Gift" and they had no idea what he was talking about.  He asked me why we were the only family with a Csunya Neni.  I answered totally straight faced, "Well, we've just always had one.  I guess we're a lucky family, aren't we?"  =)

So . . . if you're just starting out with the whole trick-or-treating tradition, or looking for a new take.  Feel free to borrow this one.  My family LOVES it!

Happy Halloween and Happy Trick-or-Treating!

Csunya Neni Gifts and Notes (2010)

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