Thursday, December 22, 2011

Eight Crazy Nights

I don't think it's a secret that I'm of a religious minority but it's also not something I broadcast, either. Sadly it's because there are a LOT of Anti-Semitic people in the world. I've been told I was going to hell from more Christians than I care to say. I'm not even that religious... it's more cultural. But I identify with being Jewish and hope to raise my son in my (and my husband's) faith. Dude is much more lapsed than I am, so it will be primarily up to me.

So I'm starting small. Chanukah. The festival of lights. The eight crazy nights (thanks Adam Sandler) where we give presents to our children to make them feel less slighted about Santa not dropping presents off on Christmas Eve. Chanukah (or Hanukkah) is a relatively minor holiday and is not very religious. It commemorates a miracle where, after a war, oil in the temple lasted for eight nights when it should not have lasted for even one. At least that's what I remember and I'm too lazy to Google right now to find a better description.

It started on Sunday, with our family celebration (a few days early, but Dude's sister's family was off on vacation this week and we didn't want to travel on Christmas). Little Man, I think, was overwhelmed by all the chaos—his 6 cousins and aunts, uncles, grandparents and tons of presents. But on Tuesday night, he GOT it. PRESENTS!

We lit the menorah, and he started singing "Happy Birthday to you."  Not so clearly as I wrote it, but definitely understandable. And then he asked to "blow can-ell" and I had to say it wasn't a birthday cake. But it does make sense that he'd make that association.  And Dude and I presented him with his BIG present from us.  The Mickey Mouse Clubhouse play set, which is no longer available on Disney's website. He gets so excited. OPEN! OPEN!  So we do and set it up and...

There are several parts missing!!!

What do I do?  It was sold out? But I call Disney and, lo and behold, there are 5 in stock and they are sending a replacement along with a return label (or so I thought) for the broken one—which I cannot pack up now, as my two-year-old is OBSESSED with Mickey.  I am thrilled.  But today I was less so when UPS arrives at my door to retrieve the defective set before I got the replacement (which arrives tomorrow). I'm like: sorry! And I convince the UPS guy to give me the return label to send back on Monday. I hope the new one has all the parts.

Yesterday my oldest friend, who I met when we were in 7th grade, got Little Man a Huffy Mickey tricycle! I was so excited! Little Man didn't get a trike for his birthday, like I'd hoped (and thought, but I should never expect a present and know that). So he wanted that opened too. Thankfully I convinced him to wait (and hid the box in the garage) for daddy.

Here is Little Man "texting while tricycling" in my Family Room. (He's playing the Zoola app on my old iPod Touch, which has become his phone.) I love this boy!

Happy Hanukkah!

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