Sometimes I wonder if I will ever begin to understand the country I live in.

Last week, I blogged about the week between X’mas and New Year. You know, that strange lull when many of us are on vacation and those of us at work find ourselves endlessly watching the clock. Or surfing random websites. Anything to pass the time while waiting for the callbacks that never come since everyone we’re dialing is out of the office.

Kay ribbed me about my bosses reading the post. It turns out that wasn’t the problem. The problem was how I spelled the holiday - X’mas. 

“Did you do that on purpose?” my brother-in-law asks, curious, when we all get together for New Year’s Eve.

“Uhm. What do you mean,” I say.

This is how I discover that apparently some people think that those who spell Christmas X’mas are trying to secularize the holiday, to take the “Christ” out of Christmas, if you will.

This is so far off tangent, so unbelievably unbelievable I am at a loss for words.

I can’t help but think: did I just offend a bunch of Cribsheeters without meaning to?

I’m not particularly religious, having spent part of my youth running away from Christians and Muslims both trying to convert my recalcitrant soul (though not at the same time). These days, I’ll light some joss sticks at the Buddhist temple with my parents on Chinese New Year. Then on Christmas Eve, dress the girls up and take them to church with my mother-in-law. But if there’s one thing I believe in, it’s live and let live.

“I spell it X’mas because it’s shorter!” I splutter.

I ask him where this X’mas theory comes from and he says his mother told him that when he was a boy. Oh.

So naturally, we ask his mother. She says she doesn’t remember. Oh.

So we do what any reasonable family would do whenever something like this comes up. We google “Origins of X’mas.” (more…)

…..we’re at the end of this limbo land, this twilight zone, this week between X’mas and New Year. 

For my family, with the two girls’ birthdays sandwiching X’mas, the end of the year is an especially contemplative time for us.

Maya turned three two Sundays ago. This made me gooey with nostalgia and want another baby. I miss being pregnant. Most of all, I mourn the loss of chubby, squeezable thighs (the babies, the babies, not me). Zoe turned five yesterday. I can’t imagine how she can be more grown-up than she already is, my thoughtful, serene first child. 

For Maya’s big day, we went to “Peef, the Christmas Bear,” at the neighborhood children’s theater in Hopkins. Maya stayed awake through the whole thing, which is more than can be said for her mommy. For Zoe, it was “The Elves and the Shoemaker,” a riotous romp of a show at the Old Log Theater in Excelsior. Very fun, with the kids all dressed up in their holiday finery, holding the hands of doting grandparents. These are times when I’m glad we live in the Twin Cities. 

At work, the situation is surreal - the usually bustling newsroom is quiet. I call sources. They don’t call back. I’m desperate enough to root through the Brazen Careerist’s list of five things to do if you’re working between X’mas and New Year (Sleep at your desk? Eat rotting X’mas cookies? Hit on the cute sales rep on the next floor? Really, Penelope?)

I plot an escape somewhere warm, swooning over Mom101’s recent jaunt to a Caribbean Club Med. One can dream…

Happy new year, Cribsheeters. Peace and happiness to you and your family.

If you’re last-minute types like us, you were probably up wrapping gifts till past midnight last night.

Sorry, I should clarify. My husband planned, bought and hid the kids’ gifts weeks ago. It’s me, the designated gift-wrapper, who finally pulled out the rolls of gift paper and recycled gift bags the day before Christmas Eve. 

I kind of like the deadline pressure. It was fun, almost meditative. Slash, fold, tape. Slash, fold, tape. Repeat for two hours.

And if you’re still wrapping, here are some lovely gestures that don’t cost a lot from the paper’s Home and Garden team….

Happy holidays, Cribsheeters. Merry Chrismas. Happy Hanukkah.

I’m sure a lot of us are going over the river and through the woods to grandmother’s house this week. Watching the weather report right now, it would be a lot better if grandmother’s house happened to be in the metro area. My parents are in Illinois. I have made the trek many a time down 94 through Wisconsin. Storms, white outs whatever. Not a problem when there weren’t kids in the equation. We could deal with it.
But add two kids in car seats and that changes everything. Will there be slow downs? Will we be on the highway for 10 hours instead of 5? Slippery roads? Jacknifed semis? The grandparents and extended family are dying to see them (and us too -but we’re secondary). We’re packing like we’re going - prepared for anything. I’m packing plenty of snacks and distractions. But do we risk dangerous driving? The roads may be fine, we may stay ahead of it. Or not. The good thing about I-94 in Wisconsin is that there are plenty of turn off’s with hotels (and CHEESE!) if need be.

We’ll make a decision in the morning. Their safety comes first.

What are your plans? Have they changed? Travel or stay put?

This photo reminds me to just - stop.
Take a breath.
Notice what’s going on around you.
It’s easy to get caught up in the chaos of the season - but this is the good stuff.
The joy and wonder through a child’s eyes this time of year.
I get it now.
And it’s pure magic.