A Very Band Christmas

My background is in classical piano, and I'm not sure what insane thing has happened in my family. My husband and I gave our three oldest children musical instruments for Christmas. Our 11-year-old got an electric guitar, our 9-year-old a drum (which will grow into a drum set someday, I'm told) and our 8-year-old a trumpet.

Below is a video of the boys playing with my husband. The lighting isn't great, but the sound is. Really the sound is great. That's what it sounds like. I'm wondering if this is from teaching beginning band classes while pregnant with my oldest. Perhaps it affected his ears more than I realized.

(Note the plumber walking past out front window - he did finally show up and no plumber wand was ever needed! I thought he might lower his rate out of compassion for me, after listening to the "band" play all day, but instead he just tried to leave really fast.)

Good Food, Great Entertainment and a Bit of Mystery: Christmas Dinner at the Old Folks Home

For Christmas, our family went to visit my parents. My parents live in an extremely nice retirement community that consists of a section of villas (where they live), a clubhouse, and an additional building that's both independent living and a nursing home. The community boarders on a large state park.

All those factors combined make visiting Grandma and Grandpa a true adventure to my children, and this time it was even more so.

On Christmas eve, we were invited to a Christmas Brunch at the Independent Living Center. Since it was a potluck buffet brunch, my youngest son (who must have a hollow leg he eats so much) was especially excited. The more variety the better, in his opinion.

Our older son, however, is a different story.

First, of all, he's 11. That, in itself, says a lot. I've figured out that having an 11-year-old boy is probably the number one source of gray hair in our nation. Monday morning proved it.

The brunch was held in a beautiful dining room in the center. After navigating our youngest daughter through the sea of elderly people -- remember, she's driving her own wheelchair -- we arrived at our table. Tables had been reserved according to the number of guests people were bringing. Since there were 11 of us, there were two tables reserved for our group. We placed the three big kids at one table, and the rest of us sat at the other (yes, that was intentional on our part).

When it was time to start, the lady leading the brunch announced that the tables would be called by number. My three big kids looked for the number at their table.

Total terror filled their eyes (especially my youngest son). There was no number on the table. Certainly no number meant no brunch! Of course, they were going to the buffet when our table number was called, but that wasn't apparent to them.

There was no need for son #2 to fear, though, because the 11-year-old instantly slipped into his alter ego: Lawyer/social advocate.

"Hey! We don't have a number!," His voice rising above the din, "That's not fair! What are we supposed to do?!!!"

That fire was quickly put out by my husband. However, the family lawyer soon found another reason to raise the alarm. He has a severe food allergy to tree nuts and shell fish, and nothing on the table had ingredients listed.

"I can't eat any of this food because I don't know the ingredients!"

"I think you can safely assume there's no shellfish in any of it, " I replied, noting our current geographical location (a good thousand miles from the sea).

"Yes, but I don't know about nuts." He replied.

"Well, I know alot about nuts." I responded, but it went over his head.

After that, things went pretty swimmingly. Until the first nose bleed.

"Where's the bathroom?" the 11-year-old asked. So, Dad and he went off to find a bathroom. About 10 minutes later, when Dad's food had pretty much hit room temperature, they returned.

"We don't have any Vaseline for my nose" the 11-year-old told me (mom hint: Vaseline works great to prevent a nosebleed from returning).

"So," my husband said, " We'll be headed out again, I'm sure."

"Hey! What's this?" Asked the 11-year-old as he picked up a packet of papers left by his plate.

"We're going to have a carol sing." I replied, with a smile that I hoped would induce some enthusiasm.

His eyes widened as he flipped through the packet.

"Mom, there are 30 songs in here!"

"I'm sure we won't sing them all." I responded.

Just at that moment, the song leader got up.

"We'll start with number 1 and then work out way thru. We won't sing all the verses of all the songs, just verse 1 and 2. And, kids, when we get to "Up on the House Top" I expect you all to come up and lead the audience in the motions."

Nosebleed number two.

As they headed out, I heard the 11-year-old whisper to his dad.

"Can we leave before #12?"

"What's #12?"

"Up on the House Top."

This trip took a while because they also looked for the nurse's station to see if she had any Vaseline. They returned with a tube of lip therapy which my son claimed he couldn't use because he didn't have a Q-tip. The excitement just doesn't end.

Well, we managed to hide the 11-year old during Up on the Housetop, and our younger son and oldest daughter did enjoy leading the audience in the motions -- which was pretty good considering that they didn't know the motions. Our oldest daughter also played "The First Noel"on the piano for the crowd, making me a pretty proud mom.

The excitement came to a head, though, when we got back to my parents place. A body had been found in a field near their home! A 91-year-old man, after presumably arguing with his fiancee, took a walk in the state park. Taking a short cut home he must have fallen or something and passed away in the field. The mystery has yet to be completely solved, but the events certainly support the idea that weddings sure can be stressful.


Several weeks ago my husband came home from work and told us about a patron of his that shared his secret for a great Christmas dinner.

"I have Christmas dinner at the hospital -- it's great food at a great price!"

And, I have to say, we did have a great Christmas brunch at the old folks home. I enjoyed the shellfish-free food, learned that there are some kind of nationally known motions to "Up on the Housetop", learned the 2nd and 3rd verses to "Up on the Housetop" (although I wonder how Little Nell can have a good Christmas when her brother, Will, is getting a ball and whip), and we probably provided entertainment for a large number of people.

And, once again, a trip to Grandma and Grandpa's House appears to be an adventure!

Merry Christmas!

Happy Honda Days

There is a trend that I am currently finding very amusing, and that trend is the idea of giving your spouse a new car for Christmas.

It all started with Lexus. Several years ago, the Lexus geniuses decided that convincing people to buy a Lexus as a Christmas present would boost sales. They even made a big red bow -- which I have been told costs an extra $500 to purchase.

I guess that they really are marketing geniuses because they are making a lot of money, and the idea has now spread. On the car front, I've seen both a I've seen a Honda (which I would much rather own than a Lexus anyway) commercial and a Cadillac commercial.

The real idiots are the guys who are falling for the marketing. Although, I have a suspicion that, deep down, most men know that buying a new car falls in the category of "gifts I really want but by for someone else." I, personally, don't know too many women who want a new car for Christmas, but maybe I don't travel in all the right circles. While I don't know for any certainty about any other women out there, I do know what my reaction to a new car as a Christmas gift would be:

"YOU BOUGHT ME WHAT????!!! How much did this set us back? Our other car worked fine! How much is the insurance on that thing? What kind of gas mileage does it get? I don't want a monthly car payment! "

And, those questions would not be asked in a friendly voice...

Of course, as one store says, "This Christmas, don't just give a gift... grant a wish."

So, since I would never wish for a Lexus, here is my Christmas wish list, perhaps it could all be granted:

1) Naturally Brown Hair
2) Free Plumbers
3) A grocery store that delivers for free
4) My three year old to have a softer voice
5) My three year old to stop freaking out over "buggies"
6) Self washing laundry
7) Self cooking dinners
8) For Cincinnati to get real snow rather than the rain/sleet/snow/ice/mud we get
9) For a humidity-free August
10) My House to grow level and stair free

Google is Not God, Even Though It Appears Omnipotent

It was an innocent and thoughtful idea. We had been home all day, taking a Christmas break from school work, and not looking forward to a long evening since my husband was working late.

"Let's go someplace!" I told the children. "Some place fun."

The young ones bought into the idea.

"Yea! That would be great!"

My oldest was a bit concerned....

"This isn't going to be a field trip, is it?"

Really, my oldest is a nice child (being a paperboy and all), and his concern is legitimate and based on life experiences.

Last Christmas, we ended a three year Christmas tradition. The tradition is for me to purchase tickets to see whatever seasonal show is being produced by the Children's Theater downtown, and then never see it because I can't find a place to park.

The last year of the tradition, we left the house exactly 2 hours before the show was to start. The kids were dressed nicely (already annoying the oldest three -- my two boys and my tomboy daughter), and we happily went out the door. It takes only 15-20 minutes to drive downtown, so I was sure this would work.

Fast forward to 1 1/2 hours later.

I was sitting amid a sea of yellow school buses, completely stuck in traffic two blocks away from the theater, dangerously close to teaching my children an entirely new vocabulary that I really don't want them to know. I can't go anywhere because traffic isn't moving (the buses are dropping children off at the theater), and I can't drop anybody off because I'm the only licensed driver and everybody with me is under 10.

After nearly having a stroke, I pulled into the only garage with parking available. It was $15 to park for an hour, but it didn't matter any way, because after driving through the entire garage, I learned that there were no spots available. The lot guy forgot to put out the "full" sign. At that point, the show (which is only about 1/2 hour in length) was set to start in 5 minutes.

"Guys, I think we need to go home."

"Yea!! This field trip is boring."

"Mom," the oldest said, "Could we maybe just not take field trips anymore? Or at least not ones like this?"

And, so it was agreed. While I am good at teaching them some things, I am not good at field trips. In fact, when I taught school I hated field trips. Who, in their right mind, likes to go places with large groups of children?

Anyway, it was with this history in mind that we decided, after looking at an Enquirer article I found on line, to go to see the "Holiday in Lights" display at Sharon Woods. The article said that a van could get in for $7. So, I googled the location, grabbed some money and we headed out the door.

Fast forward 25 minutes. The vein in my forehead was starting to pop out. I got off the highway, like my directions said, but I didn't know which way to turn. The directions implied that I would only be able to go one way. So, I went right for a few miles, and couldn't find the road to "turn slightly left" on. Being a home school mom, I knew exactly where to go for help: the library (it doesn't hurt that my husband was working there).

"I'm calling because Google is not God, even though it thinks it's omnipotent."

"What?"

"I'm lost and I need help."

He quickly found where we were on the Google maps/satellite. And, after three phone calls, two incorrect entrances, and about 1 hour after we left home, we got to Sharon Woods.

I pulled up to the guy taking money.

"That will be $12."

"$12??? The paper said $7!"

I scraped together $12 dollars and handed it to him.

"This better be one good light show for $12!"

"Uh... Merry Christmas and enjoy the show...."

Well, that's just the problem. As I pulled into the park, I realized that I wasn't going to enjoy the show! I mean, they're Christmas lights! Exactly how exciting can that be? The back of the van was a different story. There were "ohhs and ahhs" and squeals of excitement all around. At one point we drove down a hill into a light tunnel. Not exactly "The Beast" as far as I was concerned, but everyone behind me thought it was a thrill of a lifetime.

This isn't the first time that I've had this feeling. There have been many times where I remember something fun from my childhood and then do it with my kids only to find that it isn't fun at all. In fact, it's rather stupid. Take, for instance, The Mystery Mansion that Defied Gravity, Ripley's Believe it or Not Museum, Tourist Caves, or Putt-Putt Mountain in Gatlinburg:

"I paid twice as much to putt putt here as the other place so that I could do it on an artificial mountain? But it doesn't even feel like a mountain!"

It was then that I realized that these cheap thrills from my childhood where thrills for simply one reason: I wasn't the one paying for them!

After several minutes of the Holiday light "spectacular" it finally occurred to me that my $12 of enjoyment wasn't going to come from the light show, because a light show is nothing more than a bunch of Christmas lights. However, listening to them enjoy the light show and be awed by something so, well, not impressive, was where the fun was.

We got home later that evening. As I was complaining to my husband, he did a quick Google search. Apparently I had gotten directions to the Sharon Woods Golf Course. I still think that was google's fault and not mine.

However, the kicker was the info on the price. I had pulled up an Enquirer Article from the year 2000! Now, why that would be the top of the list for google's search engine, I don't know. But I guess it does go to show you should really look at the entire page when you get your information from the web!