When I was four... I remember my mom pulling out the Christmas stuffed animals... They were special, they smelled of cedar and dust, we were only allowed to play with them between Thanksgiving and New Year's Day. We had "Bambi" (I'm pretty sure she was supposed to be a reindeer... but at 4 who can tell the difference between a beloved deer in a movie and a fictional, mystical, flying, antlered, animal?), a Mrs. Claus made out of a mop, and Jingle bear (a teddy puppet with a hat and gloves that were on a string)... I'm sure there were more but those are the ones that stick out in my mind... My heart fluttered with excitement when she would pull them out of the trunk... Seriously?!?! I got to play with them?!? Finally?!?!
I remember setting up dinners for my babies and stuffed animals... and building them a pirate ship out of the couch cushions... Every night I would ring the bell on my favorite ornament... Christmas was magical.
But my four-year-old Christmas stands out in my head for another reason too... It was the first time I really remember getting in trouble.
You see, I
Now... I should interrupt this story and fill in some blanks... I was a bald child... my poor mom waited till I was 4 to even be able to secure a bow in my hair... It just came in patchy and thin... So you can imagine her dismay when I chose to trim my locks... with my pink shark scissors of course.
I cut off about an inch.
I can still remember... My mom had Bing Crosby's Christmas record playing (yep... I am barely that old... we had a cd player too... but most of our music was on records) the air was cold and I was sitting at the dining room table...
"RACHEL SHOEMAKER!!! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!?!"
Quickly, after I had tried to explain my hardest... I was put on time out... at the dining room table.
Now.. honestly I probably wouldn't have remembered the hair event if the next event hadn't happened... this is where I really got in trouble...
I took the butter knife that was sitting on the table (she had pre-set the table for dinner) and I held it in my fist and banged it into the table as many times as I could before she made it over there...
My mom, devastated, that one of her only nice pieces of furniture was now dented (apparently I was a strong... but slightly baldish child)... that's when I got in trouble. I lost all scissor privileges for a LONG time... and I'm pretty sure I remember eating off a small tray on the floor for dinner that night (My table privileges were removed that night so I could learn to respect furniture... you think that's bad? I don't... it worked... didn't damage me... and my parents were excellent at taking things away... like my door as a teenager... my blanket as a six year old... my mattress as a three year old, only for one night of course! (apparently if you dig your fingers into it and pull out the stuffing it's a big deal) but I really did learn my lessons... and the best part... I know that all of it was done in love. My parents never disciplined angrily, and for that I am grateful.
Every couple months (until we got rid of that table a few months ago) when my mom would sit at the right angle and see those dents... she would remind me of the time I made them... and we would have a good laugh... I promised her I'd never do it again... I'm glad she didn't hold a grudge.
Now... With every time I hear a song from that Bing Crosby album... My mind goes to this...
And it makes me excited for Christmas.
Cause even though it's a slightly negative memory... it's a funny one.
So... I'm really excited for Christmas morning...
Partly because I
And also because I can't wait for my family to open the gifts I've made them the past few weeks... I decided with as tight as my finances are going to be, and with all the free time I have, I'd crochet all the presents this year... I've spent 24 dollars... and about 21 hours :) I can't wait to post pictures :)
Now.. Santa... I promise, I've been good. I haven't dented any tables... or cut my hair this year... So please please bring me that sweater dress I know is waiting under the tree ;)