Tuesday, January 26, 2010

The most wonderful time of the year - - Disneyland and Christmas

I have a Christmas schedule that I started some years back. It starts the day after Thanksgiving.

1. Go shopping on Black Friday
2. Take out Christmas music after shopping
3. Take the Christmas card picture
4. Decorate the lawn
5. Pull out the Christmas presents bought earlier in the year
6. Take out the Christmas sweaters

December 1 is the official Christmas sweater kick off. A Christmas sweater or one that is green or red, every day until the 25th. First week in December mail out all the Christmas presents and send out Christmas cards. The first weekend in December buy the Christmas tree and decorate. Take family Christmas picture. Celebrate my birthday. Celebrate Jory’s birthday observed. Celebrate Layla’s and Jory’s gotcha days. December 29th or 30th take down the decorations. That sums up our holiday festivities. Or rather I should say this is the dream of how the festivities are supposed to go.

We couldn’t decorate the front yard Thanksgiving because Oma decided the lawn needed counting. That half inch the yard grew since the last cutting would have ruined, simply ruined the decorations, so I had to throw up the blow up decorations quickly to take a picture. Of course, Layla fell asleep right after I dressed her for the picture. A nicer mommy would have let her sleep, but she had a mommy on a mission and her sleeping time could not and would not interfere with that. I’m so glad that I had the presence of mind in Vietnam to buy Ao Dais for this year’s Christmas picture. I’m genius!

I tried to get all three to smile at the same time. That didn’t happen, but I think I got some good, cute pictures anyway. Monday morning, I had our Christmas pictures in hand; it was time to start mailing them out. This year I decided I would send out the cards the same time I sent out the Christmas presents. That was a mistake.

I tried to wake up at 4AM to get a jump start on the presents that I smartly separated by family on Black Friday night, at 4:30AM my human Lojac was up. You don’t get a lot of presents wrapped when you have to hide the scissors, make sure no one is ripping the paper off the presents you’ve already wrapped, trying to keep someone off the wrapping paper, and keeping them out of the tape. I threw on Jem and the Holigrams (brilliant cartoon and one of the best presents I’ve ever received. I love you, Ash!) to distract my Koala Bear because her physical therapist said she was mesmerized by TV. Interesting since there was a TV in the orphanage so TV isn’t a new concept to her. But what I discerned was that Layla is only mesmerized by TV if she doesn’t want to be bothered with you. Sorry therapist, she just wasn’t that into you. Jem had no effect. I even tried to capture her attention by showing one of the greatest Christmas movies of all time, Scrooge (Bill Murray is genius. His Richard Pryor on fire joke one of the best jokes in the movie. Then I sadly realized my kids will have no clue what that joke means without me explaining it to them. I’m getting old.). No go. It took nearly three weeks to get all the presents wrapped. If anyone got their presents or their cards after Christmas, you have Layla to thank for that. Next year, she will not be allowed to slow down the system.

The first Saturday in December, Jory picked out our Christmas Tree at Home Depot and we went home to immediately decorate it. I put on the Christmas cds and pulled out our treasured ornaments. When I heard something drop and crack, I raced into the kitchen to find the ornament I made in Mrs. Doty’s Pre-first class on the floor in two pieces. It’s only an ornament. It’s only an ornament, I chanted to myself. I told Jory, it was okay and for him to not touch any ornament I put on the kitchen table. It’s only an ornament. He had no idea how long we saved that ornament. Or the fact that Mrs. Doty might have passed away. He has no idea.

You know what Christmas tree decorating with a four-year-old and two-year-old taught me…that 98% of the ornaments I have are very dear and precious to me. I like my ornaments of the Grinch, Cindy Lou Who, and Max, the dog, but I never knew how precious it was until Rowan held Cindy Lou in her hand and wanted to haphazardly put her on the tree. Cindy is tiny. She could get lost. You can’t just put her anywhere. I quickly helped Rowan place Cindy Lou somewhere safe and redirected her to the apples. The apples, which she then proceeded to place on the ten nearest branches closest to the floor. Christmas decorating is about letting the kids help and learn so I let it go, even when I thought about how the baby’s favorite fruit is an apple and anything red and eatable she sees is called an apple. I let it go. Sure enough when the baby woke up, she screamed, “Apple!”, but luckily I was able to dissuade her from touching them.

While testing Christmas lights, the song I cried to and prayed to all those years ago when I was childless, Breath of Heaven, came on and instantly I was reminded of how blessed I was to be sharing this season of Jesus’ birth with three gorgeous kids. And when I heard it for a second time, while I was cooking dinner with the kids running around the kitchen, I pondered how much easier life would be on occasion if God would let us see the movie screen and not just the TV screen. Oh what burden would have been lifted off of me that Christmas Day in 2004, if He had showed me just a clip, a teaser of Christmas 2006 or Christmas 2009, where I could see myself surrounded by and loving on the best, the brightest, the most beautiful children in the world.

On the sunny, yet windy day of the 22nd, Layla and I drove to Edmund D. Edelman Children’s Court House. We hung out on the fourth floor for a while as the families with lawyers, or in this case the same lawyer, cases were heard first. Layla wore the beautiful white and red dress she’d worn earlier that year when we finalized Rowan’s adoption, which also happened to be Rowan’s very Christmas dress. I was wearing my court suit: black pants, grey and black jacket, and a purple tank top with black lace around the edges.

Layla walked around, played peek-a-boo, took a few pictures, then we were up. We were before Judge John L. Henning. (What a fun job to preside over adoptions all day.) Judge Henning presided over Jory’s adoption, too. We had come full circle in our adoptions.

The court reporter, the stenographer, Layla and I sat as the judge seemed to read over all our documents, read every single word of the post-placement report. The perks of being the last case before lunch. He jokingly asked if I had written the post-placement report myself. And when the document that would allow Layla to get her very own CA birth certificate was placed before, I picked up the pen to sign right away, but Judge Henning stopped me. He wanted to know if I knew what I was signing. I explained to him what the document was, what it meant, and told him he told me that the first time I was before him. He was impressed with himself for doing such a thorough job of teaching me. I signed. He signed. And it was complete. We took photos with Judge and out the door.

When we finalized Jory’s adoption, three aunts and a very loving social worker were there. After court, we went to Sizzler, and then we took Willow to the doctor. Later that week, we had a finalization party for family and friends. When Rowan finalized, it was just Jory, Oma, and Layla. We stopped at McD’s for a big breakfast, and then we came to work so everyone could meet the amazing trio, whom they had never seen in person. As for Layla, she fell asleep in the car so I stopped at Mc D’s and got myself some food, then we stopped at AT & T to get Oma a new phone. Sometimes it just stinks not being the first.

With the readoption behind us, it was time for my birthday. No mommy hath greater love than this that she spends her birthday at Disneyland. I’m not a fan, but I got in free and the kids had never been so off we went. I put Jory in the
back of the stroller with the blanket on top of him so he could get in free too, but the older gentleman at the gate said he needed a ticket. Dude, I’m a poor mother, why are you doing this? The good me said pay the $62 for Jory to get in, but the bad me heard $62 and 4-year-old and said, well….So we went and found the woman who had helped us when we first entered the park. She informed me children two and under get in free. I knew I was defeated then and we went and paid for Jory’s ticket. Later I thought though that maybe I should be insulted. What were they saying about my baby? That he didn’t look two? Jory could have been a two-year-old with a growth hormone problem. They didn’t know. Thank God, he doesn’t have any issues, but I’m just saying…

I was trying to make it to Toon Town, I was armed with knowledge from experienced moms and Disneyland goers and in my hands was the very detailed and wonderful guide Nyah tailored for me and the kids, and we didn’t make it to Toon Town. I saw a ride I thought we could all ride and we stopped there. When I looked around, I saw other rides for the whole family and decided we were staying wherever we were, Fantasy Land it was later revealed, until we had ridden everything there was to ride.

Layla started off loving the Tea Cups. She threw her hands up in the air like she saw others doing and then she stopped. She wasn’t loving the ride so much. The spinning cups ended and we walked over to Dumbo. The baby started shaking and channeling my mom, I thought is she choking, then I came back to myself and realized she was about to throw up. I leaned her over the very beautiful pontisettia and cleaned her face when she was finished. As Layla was throwing up, other people went around us and took our spot in line. Fresh faced Layla, Rowan, Jory, and I walked around those people and took our original place in line. Obviously they didn’t know who they were dealing with.

The baby can truly act like the baby when she wants to, but she knows when she has to hunker down and fly right; and that sometimes you just have to take one for the team. She took one for the team. Maybe she also sensed after paying for Jory’s ticket and $14 to park that Mommy’s hand could dial Aunt Dee Dee’s number in two seconds and ask if one loving aunt wanted to baby sit for a few hours. After a successful, flying Dumbo ride Layla let it be known what her price was for being a team player- - no more walking. From about 11:30 until we left the park sometime after 5PM, I carried Layla on top of my backpack 99% of the day.

Rowan was afraid of the rides that went into the dark, but she pushed through her pain. Jory loved it. He loved the rides. Rowan had a good time too. And Layla probably had the best time of all- - enjoying the time from the comfort of her mommy’s arms. I was excited the kids were so engrossed in all that was going on around them that they didn’t ask for me to buy any overpriced food. They were content to eat their PB & J as we walked from ride to the next. Happy to take sips of their apple juice from their thermoses. And especially delighted when they saw I had packed not only chips and popcorn and they got to share both.

I’m not anti-Disney, but we haven’t seen any of the Princess’ movies (okay, strike that, Layla might have been awake for Cinderella II when it was the only thing on at 2 in the morning in Hanoi) as we stood in line for some Princess ride, let’s say Sleeping Beauty, I realized three things: 1. we needed to start reading the Princess’ stories or watching their movies ASAP because when Maleficent started speaking and laughing Jory responded with, “Stop that Skeletor!” The only show we watch with a consistent villain is He-Man; 2. he and Rowan had no idea who Sleeping Beauty, Pinocchio (though he has the cutest Pinocchio bib from the land where Pinocchio was born/created/made; and has a Pinocchio pencil I bought for him when I was in Italy), Peter Pan etc…; and 3. I was right Dora, Mickey Mouse Club House, and those other “interactive” pre-school programs are teaching him, wrongly, that if some character is talking you should respond, thus explaining the talking back to Maleficent.

I also learned that when I tell Jory to hold Rowan’s hand, sometimes Rowan doesn’t give him her hand so he grabs her jacket or her arm, which she doesn’t like, which leads to tears. And thusly while getting off the train and walking towards the Haunted Mansion, she fell to her knees so overcome with emotions and distraught because Jory wasn’t holding her hand and in turn her brother kept holding her arm and kept walking dragging her beside him. I looked over and told Jory to let her go. What could I say; Jory was doing what I asked him to do. I didn’t stipulate if your sister falls to the ground, don’t drag her. So I made my stipulation and told Rowan to give her brother her hand and that way he won’t grab her jacket or her arm and once again all was right in the world. Though I wonder how long he would have dragged her if I hadn’t seen it seconds after it happened.

Jory enjoyed both his boat rides and the train ride. They were probably his favorite parts of the park. Rowan appreciated anything that didn’t take us into darkness. It was an interesting day for me, I was surrounded by people, some who dared to have the same birthday as me, and (I so don’t dig that. Me and Susan Lucci are the only two people allowed to have the day.); the kids were engrossed in the newness of it all, the baby was sleep or pretending to be asleep, I couldn’t hear anyone on the cell phone, so there I was surrounded by thousands on the day of my birth, yet all alone.

After leaving the park, we met up with Aunt Dee Dee and family at Islands. We gave Aunt Dee Dee her fabulous Christmas present; at times I scare myself with how great the gifts I give are. We drove home with everyone falling asleep. I opened my presents at home with sleeping kids surrounding me and Oma, then I hit the hay bringing another birthday to an end and revving up for Jory’s birthday observed.

Chuck E. Cheese is now the official home Jory’s birthday. It’s usually very quiet there at noon on Christmas Eve, but this year it wasn’t. Both the understaffed place and I were surprised by this. I never truly saw myself as a competitive person, but it kills me when Jory goes there and refuses to play the games that will get him the most tickets. Doesn’t he get the purpose of this place? It’s for his Mommy to spend $50 dollars on bad pizza (sorry Casey, but you’re insane) and tokens so he can win a five cent toy. My nephews understand that, but my son doesn’t.

He wants to play the arcade games he’s too young to play or to take pictures so he could get fake licenses that made him a race car driver and some other cool professional. I just had to take a deep breath and just be okay with the fact that he was happy. I have to do that every time we walk into that place.

Layla’s first Christmas at home was far from the normal Christmas. I’m not sure what I was busy doing but I didn’t go to bed until after midnight. Around 8 or 9, I became conscious of the fact that somehow the TV was on A & E and that A & E was having a “The First Forty-Eight” marathon because nothing says “Merry Christmas, Jesus” like following around homicide detectives the first forty-eight hours after they receive the call that there’s a body. As I watched through Christmas morning, I couldn’t decide what was more disconcerting: 1. A & E’s programming department thought this was a good way to celebrate Christmas; or 2. that I was hoping they would show my favorite episode. When I saw A & E was ringing in the New Year with the same marathon, they won hands down.

At some point on New Year’s Eve, I became aware of the promos. Why does A & E stand for arts and entertainment? It should be D & D for dark and depressing. Their promos were for: Intervention, Hoarders, Psychic Kids, Dog the Bounty Hunter, and Criminal Minds. I think someone needs to take the development department out into the sunlight and help them understand not everyone is murdered, going to jail, or in need of some true mental help.

While depressing, at least their development department is on the right track, over at TBS, their comedy department needs some help. How do you cancel the Bill Engvall Show? Bill will be fine. He can go back on the Blue Collar Tour, but what about Tim Meadows? What is he going to do? Where is he going to go? There’s already four black guys on Thirty Rock. And Tina is busy making romantic comedies to write him into her movies. He can’t go back to SNL. Why didn’t anyone think of Tim? To add insult to injury, they didn’t pick up My Name is Earl. How do you not pick up one of the funniest shows on television? How do you not want to work with Greg Garcia? Did no one in the development read his sharp and witty response to Ben Silverman axing his show? Hey, maybe Greg can write a new sitcom and Tim could be in it. And if someone could explain Meet the Browns to me, I’d really appreciate it. I’m still not sure how that show is even considered funny. As problematic as TBS comedy development is, there specials department rocks. Whoever decided to air A Christmas Story for twenty-four hours on Christmas Day is a genius and should really be running the network. I didn’t see the movie all the way through once, but I think I saw all of it by it being on all day. Sorry for the digression.

I was up at 3AM and couldn’t go back to sleep. Oma woke up at 5AM and we sat and watched another of the greatest Christmas movies of all time, A Christmas Story. Why doesn’t my mom get this movie? It’s genius. The kids wake up between 7 – 8AM, but by that time I’m dozing. They in turn start taking naps, and then Oma takes a nap. At 11AM, we finally start opening presents. Unfortunately, lunch at my cousin’s was at noon.

Jory was more than willing to help anyone taking longer than two seconds to open their gift. Rowan wondered out loud, “Where’s my gift?” whenever someone else opened a gift. Layla thought Oma’s newly made red table cloth was the greatest thing since McDonald’s French fries and happily played underneath the table. She made appearances to open her presents, then swiftly went back, learning on the way that she’s now too tall to simply walk under the table. The third or fourth gift, my birthday boy opened was a remote control truck and he fell into a boy truck trance. He could barely open other gifts because his whole world was centered on when he could open his truck, when he could play with his truck, when he could take it out of his box and touch his truck. I’ll make sure any cars and trucks he gets are the last thing he opens next year.

We never open presents that late and we never open them without Whitney and Mariah playing in the background. They have two of the greatest Christmas albums ever. Next year, Layla will get the real Herrington Christmas.

Arriving at my cousin’s at 2PM, we ate a hardy meal, even though I never did get any of Aunt Betty’s to die for monkey bread, and then the family sang happy birthday to my beautiful birthday boy.

Layla’s and Rowan’s Gotcha Days were spent recovering from all the Christmas business, but I did make it out the house on the 29th so we could have KFC. Layla had a bite of my chicken like she did a little less than a year ago when we were in Saigon. The only things missing were: Nancy, Rock Star, Lisa, an American Idol winner playing on the radio, an American Idol winner video playing on the TV. The biscuit was a new thing to Layla because they don’t have the biscuits in Vietnam.

The Christmas season was great. I hope Layla enjoyed her first Christmas with her family. And I learned a new lesson….Children’s Place once again rocks for selling matching Christmas pjs for the whole family and I must be there on December 26th so I can buy next year’s Christmas pjs for half price.


















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