Christmas is for children

As holidays go, this one was pretty typical. Travel, shop, eat; sleep a little, eat, shop some more; eat, eat, eat; wrap presents, open presents, clean up trash created from opening presents; eat, play with new toys, try not to lose new toys; eat, clean up the endless mess from all the eating, eat a little more; pack bags, give hugs and kisses, travel to another destination and do it all over again.

Don’t get me wrong, I love Christmas. But sometimes the parts we look forward to just get lost in the hubbub. I always start off very optimistic; excited to see all our family, to spend time visiting and catching up. Then reality hits me like a runaway Thomas Train and I remember…we have kids. We all have kids, and kids have to eat, play, dress, poop, drink oceans of juice and be corrected at almost every turn-and as of yet, they can do none of this by themselves. So I’ve had to learn to alter my expectations. After all, Christmas is for children.

We have tried really hard not to over do the gift getting part of the holiday. It’s hard, because we see things we know they’d love, and we want them to have it. But let’s face it, that’s a monster we don’t want to create. While Dollar Store stuff will satisfy them now, they will grow up, and who wants two entitled teenagers who can’t be content on their 16th birthday with a $1500 used truck that they had to help pay for? So this year, we got creative.

Now, when I say “we”, what I really mean is Dad. He may be the brains in the family, but he’s also pretty artistic when the need arises. See, the present that we wanted to give the boys this year was nowhere to be found, at least not in our price range. So “we” decided to make it.

Thanks to a book from their grandmother and a movie from Aunt Debbie, our boys have fallen in love with Peter Pan. And while we’re thankful it isn’t Barney or The Wiggles or Spongebob Squarepants, I’ve had to draw the line at just exactly what they can use to reenact their favorite tale. The day I found them using wire hangers for hooks and part of Brisco’s baby book for their treasure map, I decided maybe they needed a few props. And that’s what got us thinking.

Dad said if I would get the canvas, he would paint the boys a treasure map. I glued some dowel rods on each end, and we rolled it up and put it under the tree. I found a small pair of kids’ binoculars as well, and that is what they woke up to find on Christmas morning.

Now to some, this may not seem like much, but their love of this classic cannot be understated. Every hook-shaped candy cane is a reason to shout, “I’ve got you now, Pan!” Every empty paper towel roll is an excuse to yell, “Peter Pan ahoy!” One day I walked through the living room and heard Cooper saying, “Licky butter nickels” (translation: like barnacles) and calling Brisco “Mr. Smee”. At our house, this Neverland thing is serious business. So when Randy suggested that Santa leave the boys’ gifts under a different tree, I thought it was the greatest idea since Pixie Dust. See, the map that he had created was of Grandmother’s house, complete with cars in the driveway, dog pen, home plate, trees, sidewalks, blue shutters and a little boy looking out the second story window. And an “X” just happened to mark “the spot” under the big, dead elm tree in Grandmother’s back yard.

So on Christmas morning, after all the presents had been opened, Dad put coats and shoes on their still-pajamad-feet, and told them to grab their binoculars and map. We had a Christmas treasure to find.

Cooper was in the lead, and he had this treasure hunt thing down to an art. As he walked around the house, map opened in front of him like a scroll, following the dotted line in front of him to the step, Brisco followed with the binoculars, and together they went looking for “buried treasure”. As they rounded that old elm tree out back, they discovered a shiny, new, red wagon, a huge box full of Lincoln Logs and best of all, a giant “hook” of a candy cane, filled with Christmas candy. And with a smile and a look of accomplishment, they hauled their booty to the house.

So as it turns out, this Christmas was not so typical. I hope the boys will be able to remember their holiday treasure hunt and to retell their story to their own kids some day. I hope that as parents, when we contemplate the many Christmases to come, we will remember the excitement of the moment and the anticipation we felt in giving such simple gifts and watching our boys light up at their discovery.

As a good friend of mine put it, Christmas is for children. “Just to have all those little ones tearing open their gifts surrounded by people who are focusing on them and radiating love for them-that’s quite an experience.” And she’s right.

And that’s All in a day’s work!