OK, so I've been a little lax in publishing posts lately. The holidays were busy, and there were many adventures to be had, so I definitely slacked in the blog department. Herewith I offer my first humble post of the year, which, ironically, is actually a recap of Christmas from last year.
This Christmas was one of the best yet. I'm not sure why; there was nothing extraordinary about it, no surprise guests or big, outlandish gifts. It included all the regulars; my family, our close friends (hello, Fera-Schanes' and Roppés!), and even an old high school friend I reconnected with over lunch.
This Christmas was one of the best yet. I'm not sure why; there was nothing extraordinary about it, no surprise guests or big, outlandish gifts. It included all the regulars; my family, our close friends (hello, Fera-Schanes' and Roppés!), and even an old high school friend I reconnected with over lunch.
What made it special, though, was that exact cast of people--all of my favorites, in one place, at one time. It's why Christmas is my favorite time of year, because I get to spend it with such amazing people. You could hear the laughter from three houses away, and you could definitely feel the love and affection we all have for one another, if you just dipped in a little past all the sarcasm.
I know it drove my mom nuts having all of us home at the same time (as the old family joke says, we brought everybody but the chickens!). But she loved it, too. When I told my niece Hannah how glad my parents were to see her, she wisely noted that "Grandma loves to see us come, but she also loves to see us go." All I could do was laugh, because no greater truth has been spoken. My parents do love to have us all home, but there are 16 of us (and two dogs!) in the immediate family, and not a quiet one in the bunch. So I know what Hannah's talking about, and I reassured her Grandma feels the same about the rest of us.
I love just sitting around with my family--my brothers, sisters-in-law and parents--laughing and re-telling the same childhood stories again and again. Usually, the kids (my kid and my nieces and nephews) are outside roaming the neighborhood, or in the hot tub, cramming in as many bodies as possible and splashing the living room window. But this year, they wanted to join us. They crept in slowly, quietly, the older kids at first, and then the middle kids, pulling up chairs and claiming their places at the table. They listened to us tease each other, and then jumped in with their own jokes. They're older now, and they get it; they share our twisted Dinsdale sense of humor, that sarcasm, and the ability to tease you in just the right way, so that it's biting but not hurtful.
They've spent their lives watching us adults interact, and now, they're mini versions of us, teasing whoever's in the spotlight, and masterfully deflecting when the attention turns on them. I've always loved these kids, but this year, I really grew to appreciate them--they are everything you'd want in kids, funny, smart, and just genuinely nice people. I think they are what made the difference this this year. I really appreciated their humor, their wit, their personalities, and I enjoyed spending so much time with them all over the holidays.
But enough with the love. I'm a Dinsdale, after all, so enough with the all the mushy love. Let's move on to the funny. And to the pictures...
I managed to corral Mark and most of his cousins on Christmas Eve. These kids are the masters of facial expressions and in every shot, at least one kid is squinting, popping out their eyes, frowning, blinking, sticking out a tongue, throwing gang signs, or doing all of the above. It takes roughly 60 shots to get one semi-decent portrait. I will confess that my brother Smed was feeding me rum drinks all afternoon, and so I only had the attention span to shoot 30 shots.
I know it drove my mom nuts having all of us home at the same time (as the old family joke says, we brought everybody but the chickens!). But she loved it, too. When I told my niece Hannah how glad my parents were to see her, she wisely noted that "Grandma loves to see us come, but she also loves to see us go." All I could do was laugh, because no greater truth has been spoken. My parents do love to have us all home, but there are 16 of us (and two dogs!) in the immediate family, and not a quiet one in the bunch. So I know what Hannah's talking about, and I reassured her Grandma feels the same about the rest of us.
I love just sitting around with my family--my brothers, sisters-in-law and parents--laughing and re-telling the same childhood stories again and again. Usually, the kids (my kid and my nieces and nephews) are outside roaming the neighborhood, or in the hot tub, cramming in as many bodies as possible and splashing the living room window. But this year, they wanted to join us. They crept in slowly, quietly, the older kids at first, and then the middle kids, pulling up chairs and claiming their places at the table. They listened to us tease each other, and then jumped in with their own jokes. They're older now, and they get it; they share our twisted Dinsdale sense of humor, that sarcasm, and the ability to tease you in just the right way, so that it's biting but not hurtful.
They've spent their lives watching us adults interact, and now, they're mini versions of us, teasing whoever's in the spotlight, and masterfully deflecting when the attention turns on them. I've always loved these kids, but this year, I really grew to appreciate them--they are everything you'd want in kids, funny, smart, and just genuinely nice people. I think they are what made the difference this this year. I really appreciated their humor, their wit, their personalities, and I enjoyed spending so much time with them all over the holidays.
But enough with the love. I'm a Dinsdale, after all, so enough with the all the mushy love. Let's move on to the funny. And to the pictures...
I managed to corral Mark and most of his cousins on Christmas Eve. These kids are the masters of facial expressions and in every shot, at least one kid is squinting, popping out their eyes, frowning, blinking, sticking out a tongue, throwing gang signs, or doing all of the above. It takes roughly 60 shots to get one semi-decent portrait. I will confess that my brother Smed was feeding me rum drinks all afternoon, and so I only had the attention span to shoot 30 shots.
Here's the most decent result:
The adults are not much better. They don't squint or blink as much, but they do spend most of the time bossing each other around, and telling each other where to stand and what to do. I found this motley crew in the kitchen where Smed was handing out a high-alcohol content lager he called "Christmas in a glass." It was both potent and delicious.
Christmas for me, at least, started out beyond early. The house was full, which meant people slept pretty much anywhere there was an open space. The kids usually take over the living room (we call it "the dorm"), but because of Santa's imminent arrival, they got booted. Which meant we had to make room somewhere for the three 11-year-olds. I offered them the floor in my room, and boy was that dumb! I forgot how exciting Christmas morning is when you're 11. Now multiply that excitement by three, and you'll see my mistake. I realized my error when I awakened to an excited voice shouting, "Wake up, Nick, it's 4:30!"
I heard Nicholas jump up. Without opening my eyes, I barked, "Go back to sleep! No getting up until 6:30!"
I heard a round of groans, but they complied. Kind of. I heard a scratching at the door, and Nick let his dog, Sunshine, in. The kids then proceeded to play with Sunny over the next two hours until I finally gave in and let them run off to the living room.
"Look, but don't touch!" I yelled after them.
The kids laid out their stockings on Christmas Eve, but in all the excitement, they forgot to leave Santa any cookies. My mom substituted Mexican bread, or at least the pieces that were left after Sunshine's binge on it the night before.
The kids patiently opened their stockings, but were itching to get on to the good stuff--the sea of presents which overtook the room.
My mom insists we take turns opening stuff in an orderly fashion, but that usually only lasts a few minutes. Mayhem quickly ensues when there are six kids involved.
My brother Tim loves shaved-ice, and has a favorite shop on Maui. My parents bought him this spiffy apron from the store, which is called Local Boys. But as Tim put the apron on, one of the kids read the words out loud.
Smed answered, "Yeah, we always suspected," and with that, Tim immediately pulled the apron off and refused to don it ever again. His wife Kim modeled it for us instead.
Gabi, who earlier informed us that her college of choice will be a "party school," also got some great gifts. Check out my favorite little fencer, and her new uniform:
And yes, most of us did get stabbed with that foil.
The big hit of the day were the remote controlled helicopters I got for Nick and Mark (and which, Gabi angrily reminded me, I did NOT get for her). They spent the day buzzing our heads, or dropping them suddenly on our feet. Somehow, miraculously, they managed NOT to break any ornaments on the tree.
My nephew Johnny arrived mid-morning, and I tried to get another group shot of all the kids. They wouldn't stand still long enough for me to get my flash working properly, so this is as good as it gets:
Later that night, I was walking down the hall, and heard a whole lotta commotion going on in the living room. This is what I saw when I turned the corner--somebody got a new game, and the kids were really digging it.
It reminded me of my college days, and how we used to stick playing cards to our foreheads, and guess what we had. I have a feeling Gabi will do really well in party school.
The day after Christmas is Hannah's birthday, and we spend it the same
way every year--at Sea World. These two jokers were lollygagging around
the shark encounter:
I tried to take another group shot, but as I focused, Tim told all the kids to start walking toward me. It threw off my autofocus and made me laugh, all at the same time, so I never did get a good pic.
My parents stayed home to enjoy the silence, but we returned that evening to ruin it for them. HWe sang to Hannah, and then, because her cake was so small, we removed the 4, so it looked like a baby's first birthday cake. Hannah didn't much appreciate that, but she got over it pretty quickly.
Other family pics from the dinner:
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| Mom and Dad |
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| Scott and Mari |
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| Tim and Kim |
So, all in all, it was another fantastic holiday. I really did feel ultra-lucky this year--everyone was healthy, happy, and together. I just felt grateful to have them all around me, to be safe and snugly tucked away in all the laughter and love of my friends and family.
I can't think of any Christmas gift better than all that.
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