The christmas cactus

 

The Christmas Cactus

My grandmother had an enormous plant known as a Christmas cactus. They are known to bloom once a year. December is a common time for the flowers to come out, hence the name. Grandma gave a cutting to my mom. The cutting that my mom had thrived. It didn’t know that it was supposed to bloom just annually and would occasionally burst into bloom throughout the year. My older sister inherited Grandma's plant which also seems to have a mind of its own. Regardless of what was going on in the world or her personal life, mom would be joyful every time the plant bloomed. For her it was a signal of hope and positive energy. It was infectious and the entire family would somehow feel a lift. Prior to Covid, and when my parents were still alive, I made sure to go home to Pittsburgh every four months or so; these visits were even more frequent as both my parents got older. Scoff if you like, but more often than not, the plant would flower right before my visits and stay that way for several weeks. When mom died, my sister gave me a cutting of the plant. To say that I have not been very good at keeping plants alive is an understatement. Fortunately, Sandy has taken on the role of the plant tender. Historically he was no better at gardening than me, but after years of killing anything even remotely green, we now have an array of indoor plants that are flourishing under his care. The centerpiece is the offspring of the family plant. It has quadrupled in size since we have had it. I have given cuttings to my daughters. This week it burst into flower. It magically fills me with a sense of optimism. I feel my mom’s presence. Goodness, we all need hope and optimism more than ever after this year. Between the pandemic, the economy, the divisive politics, the climate woes, 2020 will be a year that most of us will be happy to see the last of. We all have pandemic fatigue. Please hang in there. The cactus is blooming. We are almost in a new year. Things will be better.

Santa and Covid

Let me preface this post by saying that I think it is essential to be honest with people in your lives. 

You don’t need to knock them over the head with the truth, but if they ask a direct question and press for an answer, please don’t lie. 

 Over the years several parents have asked me to weigh in on the ‘Santa discussion.’ 

What is the best way to keep the magic alive while not endangering the trust that is so important in any relationship? 

 For this general discussion about Santa, we can put him into the fine company of the Tooth Fairy and the Easter Bunny, but it is safe to say that Santa is usually the member of this trio that has the most emotional connection. 

 The Covid pandemic has added an extra layer to the conversation. This year some kids are worried that Santa will either have issues with social distancing or have trouble taking the time to wash his hands in between the houses that he visits. 

Talk about a potential 'Super Spreader'! 

 In my Jewish family, the girls never gave too much thought to the man in the red hat or the giant bunny, but we did get routine visits from the tooth fairy every time the girls lost a tooth. 

When I wrote this post a few years ago, I checked in with my grown girls to see if they remembered any feeling of betrayal when they realized that it was daddy sneaking the money under the pillow.

 Lauren tried hard to remember. She vaguely recalls that she figured it out reasonably early, but played along for several years. She wanted to make sure that the gravy train didn’t dry up. 

Alana says that she was too busy trying to figure out if monsters were real or not (thanks to having a big sister who teased her by making strange noises in the middle of the night) to worry too much about the Tooth Fairy. 

 For the young kids who ask if the mythical creature is real, if you want to extend the magic for another year, you might deflect the questions fairly easily without telling a falsehood. A simple, “What do you think?” works pretty well. 

Or, “It is fun to believe in magic sometimes and Santa is part of the holiday magic” 

 Keep in mind that once your child gets to kindergarten believing that Santa is actually going to try to fit down your chimney, rather than the ‘spirit of the holiday magic,' they might be in for a shocking disappointment when they learn the truth. 

There are lots of kids at school, even virtually, who are eager to share the cold hard facts with your innocent child. 

It is much better if this discussion comes from you before your kids find out a harder way. 

 I spoke to several people who recounted that they believed in Santa with all of their hearts and were completely devastated when they learned the truth. 

They felt deceived. 

One person told me that finding the truth was the moment they stopped believing in all magic.

 How sad!

 Letting them know the truth gently doesn’t have to be a negative experience. 

 For older kids, I love a good story. 

Many stories start with an element of historical truth: “Once upon a time in a far off country there was a man named Nicholas. He loved to do good things for other people. What was special about him is that when he gave people presents or did nice things, he didn’t do it because he wanted something in return. He simply wanted to do good things. 

Lots of times he did it in secret and no one even knew who did something nice for them. 

Maybe this Nicholas was big and jolly and had a white beard. 

He became known as Santa Claus. Santa is a symbol of love and magic and hope and happiness. 

He teaches children how to believe in something that they can’t see or touch. 

I am on his holiday kindness team and now you can be too. 

Really little children might believe that there is one Santa who manages to be everywhere at once. Big kids like you get to know the secret. 

Team Santa is all the big kids and grown ups who want to help make other people happy. “ 

 Perhaps take the opportunity to help your child be an active member of this awesome team; an initiation of sorts. Is there someone in your life that seems like they need a little kindness? 

What could you do for them? Is there a little gift that might make a difference? 

Plotting a secret kindness is the thing that wonderful lasting holiday memories are made of. 

 PS: Even when Covid is no longer an issue, the photo on Santa's Lap should be voluntary. If your child isn't eager to go sit on a strange guy's lap, please don't force them. 

If the kids are up for it, there are places that are making socially distanced Santa Visits possible this year. https://datebook.sfchronicle.com/entertainment/where-and-how-to-get-your-2020-photos-with-santa-in-the-bay-area

Talking Barbie takes a bath

This week's topic Talking Barbie takes a Bath

This post is not going to educate or problem solve, but it might make you giggle, which is actually what we all need these days. Sandy’s uncle Bernie was a very senior executive at Mattel, and a friend of Ruth Handler, the inventor of Barbie. What this boiled down to was that every December, an enormous box would be shipped to our house filled with the latest toys, and dolls. My girls ended up with an absurd amount of Barbies. And we even had boxes labeled with extra Barbie parts - arms, legs, heads... My kids could entertain themselves endlessly with these. My sister-in-law Barbara was just recounting a memory of watching her nieces play with the dolls. At one point Lauren declared “This is boring. Let’s play Barbie in Russian”. They proceeded to continue the activity that looked to be completely unchanged, but now the various Barbies spoke to each other with Russian accents. Somehow this added just the element of excitement that was lacking, and the play happily continued. One year, a very special Barbie made an appearance. This one talked. When you pushed the button on her back she would come out with a multipart statement such as “ Want to go to the Beach? With Ken? Tomorrow?” When you mixed and matched, it turned out to be a pretty wide range of Barbie appropriate statements (no Russian accent). This was a long time ago. My 4 and 7 year old daughters shared a bedroom and the third bedroom in the house was an office/toy room. One evening the girls were in the tub. They had brought some dolls in there with them. They were past the age of needing eagle eye supervision, but I was in my room keeping an ear out when I heard the new Barbie chatting. I went into the bathroom and said, “this Barbie should probably not be in the tub. I don’t think she should get wet.” No problem; they handed her over and I put her away. A short time later I heard her talking. “ Want to get some pizza/ with Skipper? On Monday?” “Hey girls...I told you Barbie can’t be in the tub” “She isn’t in here!” This is when I heard Sandy pipe up from the office…”uh, she is in here.” So, there she was, right where I had left her, just occasionally coming out with something to say. We figured at some point it would just stop. Bedtime routine continued and the girls were tucked in. Sandy and I were down in the kitchen when some time later the girls appeared; they were laughing and holding the Barbie. “We can’t fall asleep. She is keeping us up.”  Sure enough, Barbie was now ranting and it was LOUD. “Pizza, shopping, beach, Ken, Ken….” Sandy, who was always the bedtime enforcer, took the doll and said, “okay...back up to bed, we will take care of her”. He wrapped her up in a towel and you could still hear her yacking away. So we did the next obvious thing, we opened the oven door (it wasn’t on of course) and put the towel wrapped rambling Barbie in it. You could still hear her. It was a little Twilight zone-ish. We looked at each other at the same time and said “batteries, Duh!” Laughing at ourselves that our ‘obvious’ solution had been to wrap her up and try to muffle her, we retrieved Barbie from the oven and with the help of a small screwdriver, removed the battery. We left her on the kitchen counter. The next morning, I was down in the kitchen making lunches for the kids to take to school (Alana in general refused sandwiches so I always had to be a little more creative.) I was still a little sleepy, so when the Barbie, sitting on the counter suddenly said “Do you want to go shopping?” I confess that I let out a scream and dropped whatever I had been holding. Unbeknownst to me, Sandy had replaced the battery before he left for work Since she was no longer yelling, we let her talk herself out until the battery finally died, at which point she was relegated to the status of just another Barbie. Wishing you all a season filled with plenty of things that make you smile!