I think things went pretty well. The boys have been happily playing with all manner of Christmas crap for the past couple days. They're stuffed full of chocolates and other assorted treats. Chris and I have been enjoying our presents as well, and really happy having our time off of work with each other and the boys.
We made sure the boys had a hand in picking out gifts for the family this year. Logan chose a present for Declan, and vice versa. Each boy chose something for me and Chris and Ed and Amy. We did our best to remind them to keep the person they were buying the gift for in mind. I think it worked, though I'm not I want to think too hard about what the boys think of me (more on that later).
I think Logan ended up choosing Declan's favorite present, which is a Batman sword that makes combat sword sounds when it swings through the air. We didn't realize there was a utility belt that came with it, on which a scabbard can be connected to hang the sword. No matter, Declan found the perfect scabbard in his underwear. He was not at all interested in cooperating for a picture of it, so this is the best I got.
Ed helped the boys pick out presents for Chris and I. Word is that he gave them no guidance and let them choose whatever they thought we'd like. So Chris ended up with a basketball from Logan (not bad at all) and from Dex, some super sweet red sunglasses that possibly travelled through time from the 1980s to get here (pretty much like these, except not Ray-Bans). I ended up with a pair of reading glasses (just in case I turn 60 and lose my near-sighted vision soon?) and a beautiful hair bow/pin.
Decorating the tree may have been the most amazing moment of either of the boys' entire lives. Seriously. I love this photo of Logan even though his eyes are closed...or maybe because of that.
Declan, for the better part of the day yesterday, walked around the house with a couple of hangers pulled up over his knees. When I woke up from my nap (thanks, Chris!), he strode up to me, hands on hips and said, "Call me Hooks!" Unfortunately, he refused - REFUSED - to let me take a picture of him all hooky.
Declan thinks it's hilarious to jump out of his room and roar at me in the mornings. He likes to scare me and it's pretty funny to hear his little roar in his scratchy, just-woke-up voice. (Just between you and me, he's never actually scared me. But I'm good at pretending.)
Declan: "What kills dogs?" Logan: "Dinosaurs."
On Saturday, Ed brought the boys over and there was Christmas talk, as usual. The kids know it's coming and of course want it to be tomorrow. Somehow Logan got it in his head that Christmas actually was tomorrow (meaning Sunday morning) and went to bed with that thought on his mind, unbeknownst to us.
Sunday morning, Declan woke up well before Logan, as he is wont to do. After a while, in an attempt to shut their bedroom door quietly after retrieving a book, he didn't know to turn the handle so it could latch gently and ended up sort of banging it closed all the way.
A few seconds later, Logan came bolting out of the bedroom, a look on his face of anticipation and excitement. He stopped short behind Declan and I assumed he was upset that Dex had woken him up and was about to give Dex the old what for. Instead, Logan turned to me, tears forming in his eyes, and said in possibly the saddest voice ever, "Daddy was wrong. Santa didn't come. It's not Christmas."
Heartbreaking, I tell ya. I hugged him tight and assured him that Santa would come when it was the right day.
We have a fireplace in our apartment, complete with ceramic logs and a switch on the wall that turns it on and off. It works like magic, possibly of the black variety, though I'm not entirely sure on that. What I *do* know is that flipping a switch to start a fire is nothing like the uphill-both-ways stuff I had to go through when my family wanted a fire in the fireplace at home growing up. Back in those days, we kept piles of wood stacked on the side of the house no one ventured unless they were getting firewood. Whoever was assigned with the getting of the wood had to truck on back there with our red wagon that had been left out in the rain a few too many times and was rusted and dented with years of use. Retrieving wood during the day was generally no big deal, though it was advised to wear gloves because logs are pokey and sure to be infested with spiders or other assorted creepy-crawlies.
Sometimes we were sent out at night, though. The lights in the backyard only lit up the grass and pool area. That left a whole chunk of yard on the way to the creepy side of the house with no lighting. So you'd go back there with the rusty, creaky wagon and load it full of wood by the light of the moon while trying not to envision spiders crawling up your arms or over your shoes into your pant legs. After the wagon was loaded, it was a race back to the porch because by that time you had had it with the dark and cold and you just wanted to get in front of that damn fire. Also, there was always the potential for mischief-making brothers to be hiding in the dark corners, waiting to jump out and scare the crap out of you just to see how loud you could scream and if they could make you dump the wagon full of wood over on your way back to the house. Pleasant memories, indeed.
Where was I? Oh yeah, the switch which lights the fire in our apartment. So no one has to go adventuring to get wood, and no one has to check and make sure the flue is open before the fire is started. It's simply switching on and off and that's it. Brilliant. However, that also makes it simple for small, mischievous hands to turn fires on and off (probably mostly on).
Chris and I decided early on that we didn't want the kids to know how simple it was and we planned to flip the switch whenever they're not looking or out of the room somehow. Here's where the diabolical comes in. Instead of hoping for a moment when the kids are distracted, we have them come over to us, stand in front of the fireplace, close their eyes, and wish with all their mights for the fire to come on or turn off. This means that they aren't aware of us flipping a switch, nor do they have any idea that a switch can be flipped for fire purposes. Many mornings on the way out of the house, we have them wish the fire off and many chilly nights have included a moment of wishing the fire on. Really, there's something so satisfying in outsmarting the 3-5 year old set.
I haven't posted in for-ev-er because we've been sick, sick, sick around here. All last week, Chris and I were miserable in bed, praying for mercy. The boys came home last weekend and each had their turn throwing up and feeling lethargic. So I blame them. Or Ed. The really tragic part of it is that before they came to our house and felt sick, Ed took them to Cafe Rio where they enjoyed some quesadillas. However, Declan is convinced the quesadilla made him sick, and if you offer to take him to Cafe Rio, he'll tell you he just wants a drink, please. Sad, right? One of the best restaurants in Utah and the boy just wants a drink. I think we'll ease up on mentioning that place for a while and hopefully the memory will fade.
Logan has been trying out a new laugh lately. I don't know why, or where he got it from, or what he's getting out of it, but whatever. He forces all the air out of his lungs and does a breathy, deep-voiced laughing sound. Creepy, honestly.
Both the boys are making huge strides in the reading and writing department. Logan's trying to read a lot, and he loves to write. He made a paper for me that said "I LOV MOMMY" over and over again (awwww). And because Logan does it, Declan is making his own attempts and doing quite well. Dex doesn't try to read as much as he tries to write, but he can actually write words if you spell them out for him. I think because they're so close in age, Declan's going to be standing on Logan's shoulders when it comes to a lot of the stuff they learn. He hears us encouraging and correcting Logan on the reading and writing and wants to get in on the action as well.
