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Thursday, November 24, 2005

I don’t know why people complain about families getting together at the holidays, because we had a perfectly wonderful Thanksgiving today. Of course, we weeded out the poisonous elements years ago, so we don’t have to worry about anyone deliberately trying to make anyone else unhappy. With us, any slights are incidental and quickly forgotten. After all, there are four small children to distract us from any adult worries and concerns.

I tried, I really did, to get a picture of all four of them. Do you know how hard that is? A six-year-old, a five-year-old, a toddler and a baby. It’s like trying to nail Jell-o to a wall. D.J. is always cooperative and ready to pose, and Dakota knows the drill, so he followed orders to sit and smile quite literally. Kylie has no choice in the matter, although if you try to keep her in one place too long you’re likely to hear about it.

Aiden, on the other hand, doesn’t like to sit still, and doesn’t understand why anyone would seriously ask him to do it. The trouble is that he’s way too cute to get upset with and way too independent to reason with. Worst of all, he’s way too smart to con. What are you gonna do?

24 November 2005

This was the best I could manage.

We started a new tradition this Thanksgiving. Each of the adults in the family drew a name, and we exchanged (cheap) “white elephant” gifts. I got Tammy’s name and gave her a little decorative bubble thing (I have no idea how to describe it); Eric got my name and gave me a NASCAR Christmas ornament. Obviously, he put a lot more thought into his gift than I did, but I really liked the useless little trinket I gave Tammy. (And so did Aiden; he carried it around the living room for quite a while.)

I’m satisfied with my Thanksgiving. The food was good, and traditional, and I have leftovers. The kids were on good behavior, and I got to play with D.J. and Dakota, separately and together. Kylie was mostly content with being passed around the family. And Aiden was— well, Aiden was Aiden. He saw Eric’s big piece of chocolate pie and, in his sweetest voice, said “Uncle Eric? Pie?”

And when I left I got a big, cheery “Peace out, Uncle Mike!” What could be better than that?

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The radio stations seem to have decided that they need to saturate us with Christmas music for the next month. I don’t mind it, but I’m glad to have a little more variety on satellite radio. I was listening to John McEuen’s show, The Acoustic Traveler, on The Village this morning and thoroughly enjoying the ramble through the history of folk music, traditional and modern. You never know what you’re going to hear, and I like that a lot.

For other journal recommendations, check out the links page.

One year ago: Wobbly
"I find myself looking forward to six months from now, when I’ll either have a handle on all this or I’ll be living in a home dribbling soup down my chin."

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