Brother and sister

Finishing up Christmas

A few days before Christmas, our family won two prizes in the Sledge Hockey Club raffle:  $100 and a family movie night package.  The latter consisted of seven movies, popcorn, candy and fun drinking straws.  At the time I didn't realize what an absolutely wonderful gift we had been given.

Until that point I had stopped noticing how easy it was for each of us to plunk down in front of a different screen:  Dave with the laptop, me with the iPad and the kids with the TV.  We weren't spending too much time with the screens (although that is arguable), but we were never spending time together just relaxing and watching a movie.

The movie package allowed us to do just that.  For four nights we gathered together in the family room and watched one Home Alone per night.  It was wonderful.  We cuddled, we ate, we laughed and we shared some heartwarming evenings together.  Joseph is making a heart sign with his hands, perhaps to annoy Benjamin.

Please ignore that Dave does in fact seem to be on an iPad.  This was the fourth night of our movie marathon; we had hit Home Alone 4; it is a terrible disappointment, and more of a B movie when compared to its A predecessors.  The kids bore with it, but Dave and I were suffering.

Sarah and Isaac set up blankets immediately in front of the television and watched from a prone position.

Sammy looked adoringly at his 'god'.  And the ghastly orange baseball cap?  Every Christmas, Dave's father arrives with a hunting cap for each of the kids.  I think we have ten of them by now.  They are allowed to be worn in the house; but outside, not so much.

We also visited with my aunt and uncle and their children and grandchildren over the Christmas break.

My cousin (in the middle) is called Hannah, her sister's daughter is also Hana (the Japanese version), and then there is our Hannah.  This is the first time we have captured the three Hannahs together.  There are also two Sarahs, but neither were compliant enough to pose for a photo.

Finally, the Christmas pageant.  A small group of mothers worked long and hard to produce this dramatic event on the Sunday following Christmas.  Over 50 children were cast in the pageant.  Jacob  narrated the story, Hannah played Elizabeth (although she refused the pregnant tummy), Benjamin was a chief shepherd, Joseph played a helper to one of the three wise men, and Isaac agreed to the role of a minor shepherd, following behind Benjamin.  You can see Ben on the far right grasping his staff with a plaid scarf on his head.  Jacob is on the far left wearing a striped grey sweater and glasses.  Joe is hidden on the second step toward the left wearing a black scarf on his head, looking rather like a bandit.  Our seminarian-intern played the Angel Gabriel.  I imagine his glowing wings and halo will go down in seminary history.

Here is Hannah on the far left with the teal scarf wrapped around her head.

And Isaac?  He is the dark blond head that you can see at the bottom of the photo.  I am actually behind the Star of Bethlehem where I directed the narrators and angels on the left.  It was nerve-wracking, especially when Jacob announced that Mary gave birth to her firstborn son and wrapped him in swaddling clothes.  All of the mothers realized that we had never practised getting the Baby Jesus to his mother.  I listened to Jacob's words and looked over my shoulder to where Baby Jesus was sitting happily on her father's lap.  In my classically frenetic style, I whispered, "The baby!  Give me the baby!"  Amazingly her father passed Baby Jesus to me and I executed a Deus Ex Machina and handed Baby Jesus to his mother who was waiting patiently, if not a little confused.  It was a wonderful day.

Annual Christmas Round-up

Around three weeks before Christmas, our town has an annual lighting of the Christmas tree in the centre of town.  The event is a fundraiser for our local hospital and draws around 200 people to the old train station for carols, hot chocolate, cookies and wagon rides.  (Note the very grainy evidence above.)  Every year a grade two student is chosen to represent each of the local schools.  That student arrives an hour before the festivities where he and the other "angels"  enjoy lots and lots of sugar and the balloon man, completely unsupervised by parents.  It must be mayhem.  This year Joseph was chosen to represent our little school.  Ben tried to provide evidence as to the wisdom of the school's choice, but his voice went unheard.  He did whisper in my ear during the announcement that each of the angels was chosen because of their caring and giving natures: "Shows how much they know; that's not Joe at all."

I wrangled my good friend Anne-Marie into coming and we found ourselves frozen and perched at the very end of the open-ended wagon on one of the last rides of the evening.  Another good friend, Sheila, took our photo while we balanced her middle child on our laps.  (Thank you, iPhone, for over-documentation of the grainy sort.)  We sort of look like one of those National Geographic photo spreads detailing lives in the coldest towns on earth:  "And here is evidence that the women of this town do enjoy life outside their homes."

Joe, proving worthy of his angelic title; I'll leave you to decided whether my tongue is in my cheek or not.  I did, however, find him the other day in front of the fridge praying a prayer that I have taped to the appliance's front door.  I couldn't resist a picture because of the hockey stick tucked into his right arm.  He tells me that he is going to play in the NHL and make sure not to get married so that, once he retires, he can be a priest.  He neither pays attention at mass nor plays hockey other than in the driveway, so I'm thinking a university degree might be a good idea.  Or perhaps I am in for a pleasant surprise.

I love these photos of the sisters serenely enjoying one another's company.  While they watch TV.  All of the most beautiful photos I have ever taken of the children is when they are mesmerized by the screen.  Thank you, Netflix, for promoting sibling harmony.

Touching.

Slightly out of order, but here is proof that Joe was, in fact, abducted by town officials, drugged with sugar cookies and hot chocolate, and made to don a ridiculous angel costume over his snowsuit.  He looked like a tubby little angel rolling his way to prayer.  Each of the angels was given a wand with which they would "light" the tree.  One of the officials whispered to me that Joe was the first angel to ever lose his wand somewhere on the 20 foot walk from the train station to the tree.

He is fourth from the left, angrily glaring at the tree and ruminating over the ill-fated wand-losing walk.  What, after all, is an angel without a wand, but an oversized animate marshmallow decorated with silver tinsel.

One of the highlights of the pre-Christmas season is the school's annual concert.  An hour of classroom presentations showcasing the de-funding of the arts program in the public school system.  The teachers should be applauded for what they are able to pull together while trying to teach the three Rs.  Hannah was asked to be one of the emcees for the evening.  She was instructed to wear a white top and black bottoms.  Each year the teachers ask my children to wear the standard black and white, or something green or red.  Each year I remember that I have neither.  Thankfully, we were able to reclaim a pair of her pants from her brother's closet and fit her up in one of my sweaters and scarves.  Ben spent a full half hour before the concert removing dog fur from Hannah's pant legs using scotch tape.  Bless his heart.  Hannah spent most of the concert barely tolerating her fellow emcees while arching one of her eyebrows in a look that said, "I'm one step away from taking over this stage."  As my father says, bossiness is clearly hereditary.
I did find something green for Joe to wear, only to discover that every single parent had found something red for their child.  My good friend leaned over and asked, "Did you not get the memo or something?"  Joe decided that he wanted nothing to do with the song anyway and thrust his hands in his pockets while looking around nonchalantly.  Apparently, I was later told, Jacob stage-whispered from the audience, "Joe, sing!  You're disgracing our family name!"

And here is the only other photo that I was able to catch that evening.  This is Isaac's kindergarten class.  Isaac is to be found ninth from the right in the bright red shirt.  At last year's concert, Isaac sat in my lap and cried throughout the entire concert that he wanted to be on the stage.  He finally had his chance this year and found the experience somewhat overwhelming.  He followed his classmates tentatively onto the stage, crossed his arms, searched the audience until he found my face and remained rooted to the spot while fixing his eyes firmly on my own.  His rather spotty school attendance left him both in ignorance of the song and the ability to read.  Thus, the large poster board with its helpful lyrics held directly in front of his face did nothing to aid his ignorance.  Wise child that he is, he remained aloof and passed his illiteracy off as disdain.  Here's to another year.