We decorated our home for Christmas two weeks ago. I have not seen most of the holy family since the moment we opened the boxes. The spot created for them in our living room sits empty while they cavort around the house, doing I know not what. I recently discovered two members playing in Barbie’s camper.
Given his rugged life, both in Bethlehem and camping with Barbie, it is understandable that Joseph would suffer injuries and even lose a limb.
Although my kids prefer to play with the nativity set rather than display it, I did discover a bit of Christmas cheer in our dining room. This “Christmas decoration” was provided by the singing Santa that my daughter bought at her school flea market. In order for him to sing, he needed to charge overnight. After we put the kids to bed, here’s where I discovered Santa, the better to do his charging.
How considerate! One would not want Santa to have to stand while he charges.
After Santa had concluded his rest but before I could give my computer the same luxurious treatment, I discovered this opportunist:
Now I imagine that some of you think I simply need to harness my kids’ creativity more fully. Put those imaginative instincts to use, you are thinking. Stop whining, and make those kids work with you! You insist.
Easier said than done, dear readers. I tried to do this while we were decorating. I asked my daughter to decorate a little chalk board I gave her with some bit of Christmas spirit. I put no parameters on her work, but brainstormed that she could write a Christmas saying or make a nice design. I had high hopes for what she might produce, given that her portfolio includes delightful pieces like these.
Yet, all my daughter could muster this time was a hasty scribble. Nary a hand was lifted:
That’s all ya got for me, kid?
Was Monet’s mother so dismissed with second rate effort? Was young Martha Stewart’s mom so neglected in her time of decorating need? It is a heavy burden we bear, we mothers of creatives.