Christmas

Poor Spencer was ill Christmas Eve and Christmas day. Some photos of same.

On Christmas Eve I finally asked Michael how he figured out that Santa was not real. He told me that he figured if Santa was 200, or maybe even 500 years old, and he ate cookies all of the time, he would have had really, really high cholesterol.

What About the Other 99%?

Michael had his first piano recital on Sunday. I was excited to hear him play. He was planning to play Alexander's Ragtime Band by Irving Berlin and Singin' in the Rain, by someone else. Although I would have been very nervous if in Michael's place, he did not seem nervous at all. In the morning, prior to the recital, I confirmed that he was ready, knew what he needed to do when we got there, had his piano music, etc. He took this opportunity to admit that he was a little nervous. Although to be expected, I was still caught off guard a bit because I had not observed any outward sign of nervousness. I asked him about it. I was relieved when he told me that he really was not that nervous, probably just 1%. Whew. I am that nervous riding in an elevator. No wonder I had not noticed. At the recital, he was the first of 20 children to play. Spencer was clearly more than 1% nervous on Michael's behalf. He buried his head in my lap as Michael started to play. As usual, Michael was more self-possessed than I think an eight-year-old should be. He played both songs very well. Thankfully. This allowed Spencer to lift his head from my lap. Michael bowed (cutely), sat down, then whispered to me that actually he had been more than 1% nervous, more like 7%. Still. That is pretty good.

Santa Claus is Coming To Town?

Spencer remarked to me this weekend on two separate occasions that Michael does not believe Santa Claus is real. The first time I responded with a question to Spencer about whether Spencer believes Santa Claus is real. However, Spencer was distracted by something else at that point (I think this makes it seem as if Spencer has the attention span of a small woodland creature, but that is not in fact the case). The subject was dropped. Until he brought it back up again the next day. Again I questioned Spencer with whether he believes Santa is real. He replied with a sense of the absurdity of that question. Of course Santa is real. Don't I think so too? I answered yes, that I believe the "spirit of Santa Claus" is real. The spirit of Santa? Even I felt this was a silly answer. Spencer agreed. He said "I'm not talking about the spirit of Santa Claus, I am talking about the actual Santa Claus." However, with his chipmunk-like attention span, again the conversation ended here, somewhat prematurately perhaps, but nevertheless fortuitously for me given that I did not want to be having that particular conversation.



Now a little background on Michael and Santa. Michael has never indicated to me that he doubts in any way the existence of Santa. He wrote a letter to Santa and agreed that going to visit Santa was a good idea. I did not think Michael really believed Santa was fake. My best guess was that Michael suspected that Santa was not real, but he was not ready to commit yet, fearing, perhaps, that gifts may be at risk. I asked Michael to come talk to me. I told him what Spencer had said. Michael was silent. He looked like he thought he was in trouble. I asked him why he would write a letter and visit Santa if he did not think Santa was real. He responded logically, but in a way I had not expected. He told me that he wrote the letter because he knew I would read it too. Wow. Just right to the point. I told him not to spoil it for Spencer.



I spent time with the boys wrapping presents Sunday evening. Really the boys were in the room with me while I wrapped, but doing their own thing. Until the point at which Spencer took an interest in what I was doing. He wanted to wrap presents too. He had no presents to wrap. This was not a problem. He left the room for less than a minute and returned with a picture of a saint and started wrapping it. Now it is true that I have spoken to the boys about the current state of the economy. However, I doubt this is what motivated Spencer in his choice of present. When the gift was wrapped, he wrote "Spencer" on the wrapping. I know that Spencer is not the only person who gets himself a gift at this time of year, but he may be the only one who gifts himself with something he already owns. Wrapped. Anyway, onto the next gift. An oblong tin case, wrapped and labeled "To: Moon, From: Spencer" Moon is a stuffed monkey. Next was my gift. I do not know what it is, but I am genuinely curious. This morning he wrapped Michael's gift. It is a one inch plastic case that at one time held a tiny deck of cards. I asked what I considered was a reasonable question - did he forget to put the cards in the case. Nope. It's just the incredibly tiny plastic case. Also, Spencer requested a last-minute change. He asked me to cross out "Moon" and write "Patrick" instead. So Patrick is getting the oblong tin case. I'm not sure if Moon will get something else or if Spencer has decided that Moon does not get a gift this year. Also, I am curious if any of us will be able to keep these gifts. I suspect not.

Alive With Activity

The boys played with legos while I shoveled the snow. I use the phrase "played with" although I think it does not capture the seriousness and directness of focus present when the boys "do" legos. At any rate, they enjoyed it and were very excited for me to see what they had made. It was a Spongebob restaurant. They showed me all of the "people" in the restaurant eating crabby patties and the sign and the dumpster outside the store. Then Michael pointed me to the roof, commenting, "and the roof is alive with activity too."

Saturday Morning

I woke up early (6:15 a.m.) this morning. I guess that is what happens when you go to bed at 9:30 p.m. At any rate, I thought it would be a good idea to get started with the day given that I was wide awake. I went into the boys' room to discuss my plans for the day. I told them that first I would go outside and shovel. Michael looked at me seriously and advised me that I ought to go back to bed for 10-15 more minutes to get warm and rested before going outside to shovel. Spencer piped in, suggesting 20 minutes instead. They are sweet boys to be concerned about my well-being. I did go back to my room, but instead of resting, I started on Michael's tortoise costume for his upcoming school play. I helped Michael with his lines the other night after dinner. He seems to have them down pat.