A new day

It's been nearly a week since I last posted so I figured it was time to get back at it. There have been many little things that have happened over the past week that are certainly post-worthy, and I realized that they could all be summed up in the title of this post: A new day. Why?

Well, first of all - it feels like a new day on the weather front for sure. By the morning of Christmas eve, about one and a half weeks into our seemingly never-ending snow/ice event - things were getting pretty frustrating. Really, when people can't go to school or work or finish up Christmas shopping or really go anywhere they want or need to go when they want or need to go there, it can start to get a little maddening. I mean, even the cats were at each other's throats by last Wednesday. Oh wait, that's normal. Never mind. The point is, there was definitely some stress building that may have even caused an episode (or two) of family bickering. Oh, and there was also that one semi-awkward moment of a slight breakdown at the FedEx facility where I trekked on Christmas eve to retrieve some packages that never made it to our house. I think it had something to do with the stress of most every road - including Interstate 5 - being like some combination of driving over a bed of rocks (huge chunks of packed ice and snow) and being on that car ride at Disneyland where you have to stay perfectly on the tracks without veering too much to one side or it would shoot you back to the other side rail.

Road stress aside - by late morning of Christmas eve, the weather conditions were looking up. The additional snow that they had forecast did not materialize and instead the temperature was slowly climbing. I believe it was at that point there was a collective "Yahooooooeeeeyyyyy!" that could be heard across the city. And we in the Burpo house decided that being it was Christmas eve and all, it was time to get over our frustrations and get in the Christmas spirit. So that, we did. Christmas eve we had a very fun evening with our two neighbor families and had a wonderful Christmas day watching Ian experience the joy of Christmas, cooking and eating a delicious turkey dinner, and talking with family members. By Friday morning, the snow was already starting to disappear (helped by lots of rain, of course) and though many roads were still in desperate need of a good plowing - they were starting to improve slowly but surely. With vastly-improved mobility under our belts - we did what any good American would do in this time of economic crisis: we headed straight for the mall. By Saturday, we were driving down the highway on actual pavement just like normal people would do. And today I went for my long-awaited haircut. Tomorrow, Ian will return to school and tomorrow eve we are planning to go to Zoolights at the Oregon Zoo, which we thought we had missed when the Zoo was closed several nights due to weather. So yes, it feels like a new day indeed!

But in addition to a new day in the sense of returning to normalcy after two weeks of things being not-so-normal, it's also very clear that this holiday season marks the beginning of a new phase in our parenting journey. The phase I'm referring to is, of course, the Santa Deception Phase. Because all of a sudden this year Ian clearly gets it. I mean, not only does he suddenly know who Santa is, but he knows where he lives. For example, on Christmas morning we went in to get him up and immediately he wanted to know if Santa had been to our house. We said, "Oh, I think he was definitely here last night and he left you some presents." And he said, "And now he went to the North Portland?" (Which for the non-locals, happens to be one of the "up and coming" areas of the city with a few kinks still to be worked out.) "Um, well close, but I think what you meant was that he's back at his home in the North Pole now," I said. "Oh," he said.

But as with many lies, you find that once you start telling a little white lie like the fact that there is this jolly old fat man who wears a red suit and climbs down chimneys to deliver presents to kids around the world all within one night - there's a whole other set of deceptions that now must follow that you don't initially think about. Which is frankly why it's much easier to tell the truth. For example: wrapping the presents. One day I was wrapping presents and it suddenly occurred to me that I only had one type of kid wrapping paper, when really I should have two types of kid wrapping paper: One for gifts that Santa brought (and of course had wrapped himself) and then one for presents from us. Dammit. Of course normally it may not have been a problem just to run down to Target for a new roll of wrapping paper to keep up with this little Santa charade, but when there happens to be a foot of snow on the ground and you have the very person you are trying to deceive locked to your leg, it becomes slightly more challenging. So then I started making up explanations in my head (as if my two-year-old is going to ask why the wrapping paper is all the same - just like I knew he'd never find the unwrapped gift under the guest bed): Santa clearly didn't have time to wrap all the gifts beforehand, so after he came down the chimney he snuck upstairs to borrow our gift wrap. Perfect. Whew, the path of deception was still intact!

And then of course there are the presents themselves. For example: what Piece de Resistance would the little come down to find from Santa under the tree on Christmas morning? This year, after remembering at the somewhat last minute that we were lacking an actual Piece de Resistance from Santa -we decided on, and procured, a "Grand Walk-In Kitchen" with so many bells and whistles on it that it would make Emeril salivate. Of course Grand Walk-In Kitchens don't just come already assembled. No way, Jose! They come in large boxes in about 50 bajillion (yes, you read that right - bajillion) pieces. And this is where the real fun begins for parents entering into the Santa Deception Phase, right? WRONG. So, enter Tuesday eve. I said to Jeff, "You know, we are going to be at the neighbors tomorrow night and maybe it's not the best idea to wait until Christmas eve to start putting this thing together." He agreed and so after Ian went to bed that night we went down the basement and pulled out a couple of engineering textbooks to get started. We had it halfway put together when trouble struck. Try as we might, we couldn't get the counter on. That, and a couple of other issues, led us to the conclusion that we had a defective product on our hands. Of course what we also had at that point was a half put-together Grand Walk-In Kitchen that was not coming apart. After about 20 minutes of two people with graduate degrees standing there perplexed about what to do next - we decided that one thing that was for sure was that this was not the kitchen that "Santa" would be giving to Ian on Christmas morning. So we had approximately 24 hours to get this one returned, procure a new one and put it together. Oh, and PS - there was supposedly more snow coming in the morning on top of already difficult roads. So again, it wasn't like we could just count on zipping down to Toys R' Us first thing in the morning.

Travel challenges aside, we knew we had to get this one back in the car. So we tore apart the car as much as we could and around 10 p.m. on Tuesday evening embarked on what I can now call a comical process of trying to shove a half put-together kitchen and rather large box containing the rest of the parts into the back of our car. (Remember that bickering I referenced earlier?) Then I went online to find out what time my favorite toy store was actually opening in the morning only to find out that low and behold - they were open until 1am that night. Well, hot damn! With more bad weather on the way and the clock ticking toward Christmas, I figured there was no time like the present to take care of Santa business. So off I went at a maximum speed of about 20 mph the whole way on icy roads trying not to kill myself and my defective Grand Walk-In Kitchen on a mission to retrieve a new Piece de Resistance. And let me just say that standing in the Customer Service line at Toys R' Us with a half put-together kitchen in my car at 10:30ish p.m. two nights before Christmas is most definitely one of the highlights of my parenting adventures to date. Frustrations aside, I have to say though that the process actually went very smoothly and a very nice man helped me remove the old and put in a new one - at which point I (slowly) trekked back home and Jeff and I did a Take 2 on putting together the Grand Walk-In Kitchen - this time very quickly and without incident. Thank God.
And so we have also entered a new day in the realm of holiday celebrations and all the good-natured deception that comes with it. But boy was it all worth it when he came downstairs and first saw that kitchen on Christmas morning. Which kind of sums up the whole interesting phenomenon I've discovered about being a parent: Even though you can feel a whole lot of frustration and sacrifice sometimes, really all they have to do is smile or give you a hug or say, "I love you, Mommy" and it makes it all worth it. And so I have included some pictures here of Ian's first glance at and moments with his kitchen, along with some general Christmas day excitement and festivities.

Until I write again.