Christmas Time Makes Them Crazy, Fa, La, La, La, La, La, La, La, La!

December 13, 2011 

Parenting is hard.  Parenting around Christmas time is nearly impossible.  The kids simply go nuts.  A lot of people have tricks up their sleeves, like "The Elf on the Shelf."  I could tell you in my house that might last about five minutes, before one child, maybe one specific child, would touch him and the magic would be gone. 

Yesterday it was time to decorate our beautiful, $30, Costco Christmas tree.  (Sidenote: If you're still looking for Christmas trees, then this is definitely the way to go!  Best Christmas tree ever!)  Son#1 was super excited.  Literally, bouncing off the walls, as he is prone to do at least five times a week!  Son#2 maintained his uber calm state, in direct contrast to his older brother.  Darling Daughter was strapped into her chair where she couldn't do any damage, or eat any of the packing popcorn that had been thrown precariously from the boxes by the boys. 

Decorating the Christmas Tree would not have been bad, if some Cybor-Galactic Borg from Planet Crazy had not abducted Son#1 and replaced him with this kid:

Yeah, the look on his face is exactly how he was acting.  Notice the calm happiness of Son#2.  Notice Dad playing defense with Darling Daughter, holding her, so she doesn't pluck the, "so carefully placed," ornaments directly off the tree. 

Who knew what was going on with Son#1 that day?  He was literally bouncing around the room, throwing ornaments at the tree, without even trying to securely attach them.  We had several ornament fatalities, such as the head from the mouse ornament and the wheel on one of the cars.  May they rest in pieces.  Who knows why Santa spends so much care picking these ornaments out for these special children when this is how they get treated?

After the ill-fated Christmas tree decorating and a few threats of bedtime, it was time for the boys to go into the bath.  I poured the bubbles in, and I sat by the side of the tub watching them.  At this point, I realized that I am not equipped to handle questions about Jesus and Christmas. 

The conversation went something like this:

"Mommy, how many days until Christmas and presents," Son#2 asked.

"Um, 13 days.  But, you know the real reason we celebrate Christmas is because of baby Jesus."

"Was baby Jesus five when he was born?" Son#1 asked.

"No.  He was a baby.  He is the Son of God."

"Why was he born?" Son#1 asked, always the inquisitive one.

"To take away the sins of man."

Confused look.  "How old is Jesus, Mommy?" Son#1, again.

"Well, he died a long time ago."

"How did he die?" again, the Inquisitive One.

"Well Pontius Pilate.he was crucified."

"What does that mean?" Son#1.

"They put him on a cross."

"What is a cross?" Son#1 asked.

Then, I'm sitting by the tub making my fingers into a cross.  Son#1 nods his head like he understands.

"You mean they drew a cross, and put him on it?" Son#1.

Big sigh from me.  This conversation is going nowhere pretty.  "No, he was crucified."

"What does that mean?"

"It means the bad people nailed him to the cross, and he died."

"How did he die?"

"From being nailed to the cross.Ok, who needs to be washed?"

Sometimes the best way out of a conversation with a curious seven year old is just to change the subject.