CHRISTMAS!

This is my 201st post. I can't believe I've been NJ to LA for 200 posts, much less a year and a half. 

It's Christmas Eve. Our dear friends invite us over for dinner, They proffer a lovely Jewish deli dinner -- homemade matzo ball soup, knishes, pickles, pastrami, toothsome rye bread. (Why are we hanging out with our Jewish friends on Christmas Eve? Because we love them. Because they love wrangling and spoiling our small wild children. Because they are full of the best kinds of gossip. Because they want to watch old obscure Christmas shows and are genuinely interested in our kids' reactions.)

Our kids were terrible and didn't eat a bite.

But. 

These friends have a pool. A pool that our ungrateful rug rats have spent enough time in and around that they feel totally comfortable in putting on their swimming togs on mucking around in their pool toys. Even when it's 60 degrees out. 

Oscar made the jump, to the delight of all the adults.

 

He made his way out immediately and our hostess wrapped him in a towel.  She snuggled him into her awesome bosum, and he figured that those few moments of frigid water were worth it.

Arlo thought about it a bit.

The Goose thought about it a bit.

No dice. They put their clothes back on, refused to eat some gorgeous deli, and we took off.

For the second year in a row (Look! we have actual California traditions!) we checked out the ridiculous lights display on Florence Street.

Time to put out the traditional offerings -- cookies, carrots, and a Bud.

Plus a couple heartfelt letters for Santa.

Plus a little wrassling under the tree.

They went to bed and Evan and I went to work.

I had most of my wrapping done; poor Evan got stuck with wrapping all the generous presents from grandparents. 

So I had time to um, acquire the letter from Santa.

Santa asked me to print it out, trim it with an Xacto, and age it a bit with some watercolors. (This is what you get when your parents are art directors. Our Santa is very concerned about proper font usage.)

 

 

Tree. Plus loot.

Attack of the children. Please note my poor husband staggering towards the couch in his PJs after his furtive three hours of sleep.

Arlo, sensing a Les Mis theme to the holiday, built a barricade of presents.

My sweet husband got Jim Lee, artist extraordinaire (and his boss) to sketch and sign one of his books that I designed. It's one of those presents that doesn't cost a thing but takes a lot of cajolling and forethought. I will treasure it.

The Goose wanted some Superhero Barbies. Evan looked online and saw that they were way out of our price range. He mentioned this to a gonzo toy collector friend of ours, a sweet guy who's been underemployed for a couple years. Our friend just boxed up his mint-in-box Barbie as Wonder Woman, Batgirl, Harley Quinn and Supergirl and sent it to us.

Here is a guy that could have put these dolls on Ebay and and netted at least $500 to pay his property taxes or his mortgage or to buy gas. Instead he sent them to us, knowing full well that The Goose was going to rip open those treasured boxes, remove the plastic stitching that keeps their hair "just so" and was going to PLAY WITH THEM. Wonder Woman Barbie is gonna make out with my vintage Disco Ken and they are gonna live happily ever after in our Costco knock-off Barbie Dream House.

Library Bags, with attached keychains for library cards.

Evan pulled a "A Christmas Story" move on the kids this year. We were very frugal in our gifts: stuff for the stockings, a fun shirt, a board game. We left it to the grandparents to be generous this year. The kids opened their presents; they were happy. They played with their stuff and we ate breakfast.

But.

On Christmas Eve, Evan admitted to me that he had sold some of his most beloved comics on Ebay. Comics that he's held on to and treasured for decades.

He used the money to buy the kids what they wanted most of all.

After all the gift giving was over,  he sent Oscar behind the TV to switch something off. And Oscar found three secret presents back there, just like Ralphie's dad had tucked that Red Rider BB Gun behind the desk.

Oscar got a 3DS.

Arlo got a Batman race track.

The Goose got a remote control Barbie car.

I ask you. Could I have found a better human being to spend my life with? I think not.

Later, the dinosaurs attacked the My Little Pony Wedding Castle, and everything went south.

Christmas dinner! Our friends Michael and Sandy came over with their kiddos and the combined kids wrecked the joint, exactly as we had hoped. Our friend Dave came over, bringing tales of blacksmithing classes and excellent small batch beer and small batch root beer for the kids.

I made a gigantic hunk of meat.

While waiting for the roast beast, Oscar and I played my new game of Boobytrap. Well, it's not a new game. It's a vintage 1972 game that I loved in my childhood, and my darling husband paid attention to me and found an original copy on Ebay. He also found a copy of my favorite game from the '70s -- Waterworks.

 

 A couple nights ago, we arranged peppermints on a circular dish to make a candy tray for our traditional Christmas dessert. 

A few minutes in the oven and we had our dish. 

 

I made our favorite chocolate peppermint dessert (based on this recipe) inspired by a truly awful dessert my mom made during my childhood. It was so awful that it became a family joke. I was so proud of myself when I finally was able to reinterpret this sickly sweet family tradition into something that was delicious and made from actual ingredients. 

(Before you think that I'm insulting my mom's cooking, she will be the first one to tell you that the peppermint dessert was disgusting and she only kept making it because my brother and I continued to clamor for it. She knew it was awful, and she made it for us because she loves us.) 

 

And THIS is why you want to have a giant table in the middle of your front room. Lots of room for Batman racetracks. 

 

A couple days after Christmas, my mother-in-law and step-father-in-law came for a visit. We had another Christmas and another hunk of roast beast.

This was my frying pan on New Years Day: I got a double-yolked egg for good luck. Thank you, Sister Fate.

 

Evan's mom gave him a very welcomed and needed present: a day out with his mom, shopping for a suit and other work outfits. His last suit was purchased before we were dating and basically disintegrated by the time we moved to LA. Although I agree with my beloved MIL that every man should own a good suit, Evan never needed a suit in the past couple years, and it wasn't a priority in our budget. So a day out shopping and lunch with his mom was a lovely present indeed. They ended up with a charcoal gray suit, a couple dress shirts and ties, a conservative pair of shoes and a funky pair of shoes, and some of Evan's favorite jeans.

Jim and I took the kids out to a film festival of cartoons.

 

The Alex Theater is one of those gorgeous classic theaters that mostly does live performances, but gives up their stage to films once or twice a year.  The Best Cartoons Ever was chock full of side-splitting, jaw-droppingly gorgeous cartoon shorts, and every so often, a couple genial guys would come out and chat about the people that made the shorts -- long enough that Jim and I would be enthralled, but short enough that the small ones didn't mutiny. 

Back to the house, where we oohed and ahhed over Evan's new togs and built new marble runs, thanks to Grandpa Chuck and Grammy MK.

Off to Bob's Big Boy. As always, the wait is insane, but the onion rings are worth it.

Papa Jim in his regular environment -- taking pictures.

The Goose and Loretta and I made our way for our yearly pedicure. My favorite place is next to It's A Wrap,  which resells all kinds of stuff from the studio's costume bins. I found a couple tee shirts from a Disney movie that my nieces love. I paid four bucks and change for the two tee shirts instead of the $95 bag from the same movie.

Arlo was thrilled that Aunt Linda sent us some apples and pears and treats. We got out the apple peeler and he tucked into "apple spaghetti."

Oh, how we love having our family here.

Grandparents brush hair and read books better than parents.

The Goose has been in a funk. Here she is, resplendent in her new outfit, crabby on Daddy's belly.

Papa Jim and I took her and her brothers to the library. She cheated her sparkly tutu pants off in Chutes and Ladders.

Part of Gretta's Christmas present was a gift card to the most ridiculous candy store ever, Sweet's. We know that she loves to take the kids to Dylan's near their apartment in NYC, so we thought she'd enjoy treating the kids to a bit of candy fancy here in LA.

Papa Jim and Oscar pointing to the Hollywood sign.

Here they are on the red carpet steps up to the Dolby Theater, where the Oscars are held. 

Oh, and the candy store!

Giant lollypops! (in Lollywood, natch.)

Oscar checks out a Bertie's Every Flavor Beans portrait of Harry Potter.

They guard against clowns.

There's a "Yucky" room in the candy store. It's filled with candy zombie eyeballs and other candy based on various bodily fluids.

It also has a line of toilets and urinals that extract colored candy sugar into tubes with appropriate sound effects.

 

Candied bugs. Blargh. 

In the Wonka room. Usually they have an actor playing Willy Wonka there. High end, cunningly-named truffles.

Sweets was just as ridiculous and fun as we expected. Time for New Year's Eve Dinner!

I made a gigantic lasagne and put out some Christmas Crackers that I got on super discount last January.

 

Your humble narrator, makeup-less, exhausted, happy. 

 

Oscar rearranged his traditional crown to look just like Magneto. He is his parents' kid. 

 

We watched some Muppet Show while waiting for New Year's Eve in New York. 

We toasted in the New Year on a NY CNN channel and shuffled the kiddos off to bed, after goodbye cuddles from their beloved grandparents. 

While the grands were here, we moved rooms -- Oscar moved into The Goose's room, and The Goose moved into the bottom bunk of the joint room. Arlo moved into the top bunk in the joint room, and Gretta, bless her, bought new pink sheets for The Goose and a snazzy new bedspread for Oscar's new room.

Happy New Year, my dears.