My siblings travel from far flung cities in the US and sometimes Mexico once a year to central Indiana in order to celebrate Christmas together, and with the exception of fifth born everyone was here. Fifth born was sorely missed, but we rallied with Christmas cheer all the same. Sunday I picked up second born and his wife, Pipi, at the airport. Second born and I spent Sunday playing video games. I introduced him to Guitar Hero and Tony Hawk Project 8. It went over well. Sunday night was spent shoveling H's fabulous confections in my maw and knitting with Saraswati while trying to ignore Lost. I've made a loose verbal commitment to catch up on three seasons of the show by the opener on January 31st. I fear I may have overextended myself. I am a television camel. I will avoid television for weeks, but put a series of DVDs in front of me and I'll devour them until my muscles atrophy and I need assistance to rise up from the couch. Regardless, this may just be too much for me.
Monday, third born and his adorable clan arrived from the Rockies. These are healthy people. They eat healthy organic, low-sugar foods, and it's always humorous to watch them adapt to a house that's chock full of junk food with children and good natured but otherwise negligent adults who think it's perfectly fine to "watch" a child by parking it on the couch in front of a television set, a bag of corn chips, and a bowl of guacamole. Come sit with Grampa, we're watching the News Hour. Inexplicably, the kids' focus moves away from the sharp and oh so hunky Jim Lehrer to a bowl full of tasty green mash. Second born bopped back and forth between the kitchen and the family room
attempting to persuade his two-year-old to "break the chip for a single dip". The child dutifully paused and looked up at his father with his face smeared green, and when daddy left he returned to using his tortilla chip as a spoon to ladle guacamole into his mouth. I was sitting in an easy chair watching the whole thing. Honestly, I was aghast that second born was putting the kabash on double dipping. I find people who insist on single dipping to be a bit germ phobic. Unless a person is sick I find it a strange practice. I don't have any cooties. Martha, their mother, doesn't agree with this laissez-fair method of child rearing, and there are times when I believe she gets a little frustrated with our 'village'. But she has mellowed to the point of accepting that this is how the holidays look and resigned herself to smolder in silence.Monday night, second born and I bonded over video games. As is tradition in my parents' house someone was awake at all times leading up to Christmas morning. We are a family of night owls, and Christmas exacerbates the whole situation. We played in shifts until four in the morning. I took this time to finish a hat to match my grey scarf. It's a beanie style hat, and it's left me of the opinion that seaming is not my favorite. I'll be avoiding straight needles for some time I believe. Five am rolled around and the kids who went to bed early were up. I removed myself from the couch and crashed in their room until just before ten. I would have slept longer, but the clock was wrong and I was fooled into thinking it was nearly eleven. I felt out of sorts for the rest of the day.
First born arrived Christmas day around one in the afternoon with her on again off again Mans. Since "family togetherness" is shoved into a few conscious hours everyday, three people were sent to the airport to pick up two. Really, if there was a passenger van available we probably would have stuffed the whole family in it. Seats in the car were sought after, and I'm glad I got a spot. Second born, Pipi, and I went to the airport sporting reindeer antlers purchased on impulse at the only store open at half past eight on Christmas Eve. Naturally, we had antlers for First born and Mans.
Christmas night was spent at Saraswati's parents' house, as is tradition. We rocked out to Guitar Hero, knitted a bunch, played a couple kick ass rounds of Taboo, and tied it up with Soul Calibur 2.
I'll be honest, this blow by blow description of Christmas is getting boring. It went really well, and was the first Christmas I can think of where I didn't find myself wanting to strangle anyone. Everyone seemed to get along really well, and I had a great time. That's really the bottom line for me.
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