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It might not have been the role I wanted in the Christmas pageant, but one I'll never forget.
Behind us in line was the afternoon class and I could see my cousin if I turned around and stood on tippie toes. I thought about being a rebel and walking in, instead of crawling on all fours as we had practiced. At the end of the play, I crawled out while the other lambs opted to ditch their character and walk.
It should come to no surprise to anyone that when it comes to Christmas, there are certain (ahem) secrets that we parents keep.
Growing up, my parents were so determined on making us have a wonderful and magical holiday season, they even dabbled in a little time travel. Once everything had been opened, my parents would announce that it was time for a little nap and that we kids should go back into bed for a little while. You’ve made your list and checked it twice but is what you (or Santa) planning to give the child really as safe as you think it is? Twenty-four seemingly (and not-so-seemingly) innocuous toys have had the dubious honor of being listed in the U.S. Toys on the list include a variety of playthings that appeal to kids of all ages including including an Elmo cell phone, a Hot Wheels stunt car, a Tinkerbell watch, a Hello Kitty keychain, a toy-sized Honda motorcycle, and a Whirly Wheel. For me, seeing a toy that we own on the list (the Fisher-Price Elmo cell phone) was a good reality check.
Consumer Product Safety Commission, PIRG, The Federation of State PIRGs, toy safety, toy safety survey, trouble in toyland, U.S. Maybe it’s a phrase that makes you sound like a cranky pants instead of the progressive parent with a degree in positive reinforcement that you are. Hay is for horses (handed straight down from my mom to my daughter, who thinks this saying is the cat’s meow). I haven’t had to use them all yet, but you just never know when these words of wisdom might come in handy. I can assure you (although sometimes I don’t believe it myself), that my children were not raised in a barn.
If the best way to teach children is by setting an example, I’d like to know exactly who it is that sneaking into my house every day and eating in the most unmannerly way possible in front of my kids. What worries me is not what happens so much when they are home, but when they go to other houses and I’m not there to keep them in line. Look, I know they are kids, but at seven and 10 years old, I don’t think we are asking too much of them. Should my daughter ever become engaged to a prince someday, I think we’ll all be in trouble.
Perhaps Her Majesty will be distracted by the fencing match between the fork and knife in my son’s hands.
On second thought, maybe instead of junior year abroad, I should send my kids to finishing school for remedial table manners. Not too long ago, I read an article about a weekend course for children that focused on the etiquette of meeting and greeting, answering the phone, and of course, table manners. Right now we’re working on encouraging him to shore up his social etiquette skills, especially when it comes to meeting and greeting people.
If my toddler had his way today, I would have been spending a lot of my time in the naughty chair. I thought the playground would cheer him up and it did for a little while (although he wanted to go to one park and I took him to another). But not only would my younger self been sitting by my her lonesome at a table, she probably would have been pretty annoyed too.
And from a practical standpoint, I think a kids’ table is actually more stressful for parents, especially if younger children are part of the dining entourage.
In any case, for our family, this year there is no need to even question the need for a kids’ table.


When I was a kid, with nine cousins over a fifteen-year age span, the kids’ table at holiday dinners was the hot spot.
It was the stuff memories are made of — clams oreganato eating contests, smack talk about the Monopoly game underway, and brainstorms for yet another original theatrical performance which we would always make the adults endure before coffee was served.
Mainly it was out of necessity that my husband and I started sitting at the Thanksgiving kids’ table when our son was a toddler.
For reasons that include peace of mind, I hope the tradition of the kids’ table lives on until my children pass the final exam at the etiquette school I keep threatening to send them to.
Australian Company Offers Return to Work Bonus After Maternity LeaveUsually when we talk about maternity leave, it's about what's lacking about it. Thirty-two years later, and I remember my line from the Christmas pageant in kindergarten like it was yesterday. It was my first year of Catholic school and the teachers were assembling us outside the gymatorium. They looked so cool in their drummer boy costumes, with construction paper hats they had made themselves. Aside from the big guy in red, there are presents to hide, special Santa wrapping paper to buy and other assorted tips and tricks we employ in order to ensure that our children have the happiest of Christmases and memories to look back on. Memaw and Bepaw would head home to freshen up and we’d wake a short time (heh) later, nice and refreshed for the rest of our Christmas Day. After we finish our magic elf work, we turn off the house lights and leave on the tree ones.
Is there a part of your childhood Christmas memories that aren’t what you thought they were? PIRG shopped a host of toy stores, malls and dollar stores in September and October 2011 nationwide, looking potentially dangerous toys.
The full report is an eye-opener, and will certainly give you pause the next time you go toy shopping.
I looked at the list never expecting to see something that is in our own toy box, but there it was, listed as a noise hazard. No matter how much begging and pleading and whining and screaming we do, they still eat as if they’ve been handed a plate of lime jello and a trowel.
I’m not giving them seven forks and asking for their proper usage, I just want them to remember to bring their plate to the sink when they are finished.
The Queen of England surely won’t approve of her habit of stirring her drink with a parmesan cheese covered fork. And then once he falls off his chair because he only bothered to pull it out at a 45 degree angle, the contents of the chalice carelessly left in front of his plate will spill on the 16th century antique dining table and the whole palace will be in a tizzy. Because as much as my husband and I try our best to model good table manners and etiquette, we sometimes worry (possibly prematurely) that our children will be destined for a life of social missteps. All I could picture was kids walking 40 yards with a stack of books balanced on their heads and then sitting down for tea. The warm welcomes he gets from his former day care teachers when we drop his sister off are all too often met with blank stares in the other direction.
I read it for a good laugh — especially the parts about men needing a collapsible high hat should they happen to be seated in the orchestra versus the boxes at the opera and tips on how to space place settings with a string in lieu of a less-than-accurate eye. Not surprising when you consider we have a two-and-a-half-year-old living here, but downright shocking if you know my take on potty training. With nearly nine years separating kid number one from kid number three it isn’t surprising that we do things differently (and a are a bit more relaxed). Until today when my toddler decided that having me as a mom wasn’t as peachy as it usually is. He complained the whole trip until we hit the registers, when another mom asked if she could have our cart when I was done.
I could have brought Elmo to our house for a party and he would have yelled that he wanted Cookie Monster. Every year we celebrated at my maternal grandparent’s house (Memaw and Bepaw) and I was the only grandchild on that side of the family at that time (my sister is nine years younger than me, my brother 11).


My Memaw and Bepaw made a big fuss over Thanksgiving, always including me in the preparation process.
If after spending all that wonderful time with my grandparents I had been relegated to sit away from all the grown-ups, I think I might have been a little hurt. Now obviously our situation was different as there was only at most on any given year, three children at our Thanksgiving table, but still, I liked being with the grownups. For me, Thanksgiving is about family and three-fifths of my immediate one all happen to be under five feet tall (although my 10-year-old is closer and closer to negating that  by the second) and are too young to know what a VCR is.
We have a lot going on later on in this holiday season so in the interest of maximizing our family time,  T.
Since this is a holiday from work, I would much rather be debating our favorite episodes of Yo Gabba Gabba (and whether Lance Rock was wearing the orange sneakers or the white) than haranguing about mid-term elections. It will still be decorated with linens and china, but we skip the wine glasses and keep the bowl of cranberry sauce snuggly planted at the other end of the table. Someone had to take the place of honor at the far end and it might as well have been us, since we needed to hop up and down on a moment’s notice. My parents would send us to bed and then wake us up once everything was set and Santa had come to visit. We pour two glasses of wine and simply sit quietly, side-by-side on our couch, reflecting on the year and our kids. And when you hear other parents using the same lines as you (like my husband and I often do), it makes you wonder if somewhere along the way there really was a parenting handbook that had to be memorized. For me it was like taking care of a pint-sized Sybil, for him it was like having Joan Crawford for a mother. After dropping his sister off at religion, when I told him not to take off his sneakers in the car, he told me I was being naughty and I needed to sit in the naughty chair.
Why, on what is arguably the most special meal of the year, would I separate myself from the people I love the most?
This arrangement also allows the kids a quick escape when they’ve had their fill on the first course and we excuse them until the turkey comes out later in the afternoon. It could have been the rows of smiles in the audience or the Holy Spirit getting a hold of me, but I was Scrooge no longer. The next morning will be filled with laughter and pandemonium, but in those moments I get to really focus on how lucky we are and how much love is all around us.
Have you ever bought a toy, only to discover that it isn’t as safe as you would have assumed? Part of it is the shyness gene he inherited from me — but knowing how that held me back, I want him to work through it now and realize how his response in these settings is a reflection on him (and us as parents). Tonight when I put his (usually beloved) fire truck pajamas on him he screamed because they have buttons and he wanted to pull up the zipper.
The next few hours would go by in a blur — a riot of noise, wrapping paper, food and  of course, gifts. And when I found out the truth, boy was I traumatized (to this day, my sister still rants about it).
When it’s time to wake them up in the morning I turn on the lights and sing joyful tunes. And while I didn’t like being on the receiving end of his tirades, I certainly found some of his frustrations to be adorable.
I’d help snap string beans and set the table while we waited for the other guests to arrive. My son, who had just been whining for the past half hour about having to stay confined while we shopped suddenly wanted back in.
If we were in public when it was time for him to nurse I’d whisk him away to a private place where we would be left alone.



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Comments

  1. OGNI_BAKU, 10.02.2016
    Interested in toilet training as early as 18 months whilst other people need differently and hence the.
  2. Beckham, 10.02.2016
    And deVries 1977 Boucke 2002), the conventional run.