Category Archives: Hanukkah

Circus (And A Giveaway!)

Perhaps you’ve heard the term Thanksgivukkah?  Or Christmukkah?  How about Thanksgivukkahbirthmas?  Yeah, this time of year, we have Hanukkah, Thanksgiving, Dylan’s birthday, and Christmas.

When I was pregnant with Dylan, my actual due date was December 24th.  When he came early on December 6th, I thought, Phew, I dodged the Christmas baby bullet!  I was an idiot.  When you have a family that celebrates Hanukkah and Christmas, any birthday between Thanksgiving and the New Year is a holiday baby.

We hosted a successful Thanksgiving dinner at our house (cooked with a lot of love and just as much butter), and we’ve lit the menorah seven lovely nights so far.  We also bought our first real Christmas tree, and it smells amazing!   So far so good for this most busy stressful anxious wonderful time of the year, right?

Next up is Dylan’s 7th birthday party bonanza at the ice skating rink this weekend and a blizzard themed bingo night at Dylan’s school next week for which I am the event co-chair.  There are way too many items on my to do list for these events, but it will all get done, right?  After the birthday and bingo bashes, we’ll plow ahead to Christmas and the New Year, but smack in the middle of it all, there’s the itty-bitty dilemma of the basal cell carnimona on my face.  Carcinoma is another word for cancer.  On my face.

Remember the bandage?

bandage

Well, the biopsy came back malignant.  It’s basal cell carcinoma, and according to my dermatologist, it’s “infiltrated” (i.e. deep).  It’s not melanoma.  In other words, it’s not going to kill me.  But it’s still cancer.  Deep.  On my face.

Cancer on my face for Christmas. (You shouldn’t have.)

Cancer looks for me, I swear.  It seeks me out, which is why I go to a team of doctors regularly and why I have thyroid ultrasounds that reveal concerning nodules and colonoscopies that reveal precancerous polyps and annual skin checks that uncover “infiltrated” basal cell carnimoma.  I’m sensitive, yes, but I’m also the girl who once got pregnant and ended up with cancer in her uterus instead.

This too shall pass, but in the meantime, it feels like a kidney stone.

December is a wonderful time of the year, especially when I see the joy on my boys’ faces when the Christmas tree is lit up and when they light the Hanukkah menorah candles all by themselves.  But December is also busy and dark and expensive and endless.

The holiday cards need to go out and teacher gifts need to be purchased and the birthday cake (for the ice rink party) needs to be picked up and the cookie cake (for the school party) needs to be ordered and the cake plates and napkins and forks need to be bought and the inflatable hockey stick party favors must be inflated and the blizzard bingo decorations need to be delivered and the winter music needs to be downloaded and the menorahs eventually need to be put away and the Christmas presents need to be bought and wrapped and hid and the house needs to be cleaned up and out because Terminix finally gave us a date in January to finally tent the house to finally get rid of the termites scheming to swarm again in the spring.

And Harry.  My Bo Berry is still gone and I still listen for him when my keys jingle at the front door and I still think of him when I stumble upon a leftover hamburger in the refrigerator and I still get sympathy cards (and bills) from the doctors who treated him and his remains are ready to be picked up and I have no idea what to do with them or where to put them or how or if to tell the kids about them because how do you explain remains to children?

And the cancer on my face.  I have basal cell carcinoma and it’s deep and I need to have Mohs surgery and a plastic surgeon needs to close the wound and there will be a scar and the thing is that I’m still having a hard time with Everything.

I feel buckets and buckets of gratitude under all of It.  Underneath Everything.  I promise, I do.  Like when Dylan winks at me (thanks to Kevin McCallister from Home Alone) and when Riley gets so mad but laughs hysterically when I accuse him of having a monkey in his belly (he does!).  There’s a truth, too.  Cancer doesn’t look for me.  I know this.  I’m not that special.  And, of course, the lesson.  Go to the doctor, Mamas!  Take care of yourselves!  But right now life feels like a freakin’ circus.

Speaking of which…awkward segue in 3-2-1…the circus is coming to town.  Seriously.  Ringling Bros. and Barnum & Bailey’s Built To Amaze! show rolls into Miami in January, and I’m giving one lucky winner four tickets to the show on Saturday, January 11, 2014 at 3pm at the American Airlines Arena in Miami, FL.

Color Hi-res Logo

Ringling Ringmaster

See, I told you it would be an awkward segue.  Nonetheless, I’m excited about this giveaway because free stuff is fun, I’ve never taken my kids to the circus, and I think it will be hilarious to take the kiddos to the big top when there’s circus tent covering my entire house.

All you have to do to enter to win the tickets is leave a comment here on the blog telling me why you like the circus and/or if you’re afraid of clowns like I am (damn Poltergeist!).  You can also comment on the circus that is currently my life, but please clarify if you also want to enter to win the circus tickets.

Do not enter if you cannot arrange your own transportation and/or lodging.  Winner will receive circus tickets ONLY.   

The deadline to enter is midnight on Friday, December 13th.  After that, I will pick a winner at random. 

Good luck!  Ha!  Get it?  Unlucky Friday the 13th?  Ha! 

(Seriously.  Good luck.) 

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Filed under anxiety, boys, cancer, Christmas, circus, colonoscopy, gratitude, Hanukkah, holidays, Thanksgiving, thyroid

The Believer, The Skeptic, and The Jew

Perpetuating the myth of Santa Claus in my house is complicated.

Dylan is The Believer.  The boy who was once afraid of everything is totally cool with Santa.  He’s also wise enough not to question a process that ends with new toys.  On Christmas morning, Dylan was positively giddy about the presents that magically appeared under the Christmas tree.  He said things like, “Did Santa talk to all the moms in all the states?” and “How did Santa know the drums were in the garage?”  (Daddy bought an electric drum set for Daddy, err, I mean, Dylan and Riley for Christmas.)

Riley, on the other hand, is The Skeptic.  He hammered me with demands and questions.  “I want to see Santa’s sleigh.”  Sorry, buddy, that’s not gonna happen.   “Can we go to Santa’s house?”  Um, he’s not home right now.  “When is Santa coming here?”  After you go to (bleeping!) sleep.  “How is he going to get in the house if we don’t have a chimney?”  Cabana door, perhaps?  “Is he going to come in my room?”  Dear God.  I hope not. 

Seriously, how does Santa not frighten children? Riley single-handedly caused me to wonder how a stranger – albeit and jolly one – could enter the house in the middle of the night and not cause harm or make off with our iPads.  Actually, on Christmas morning our garage looked a lot more like we’d been robbed than graced by Santa’s presence.

garage

The most complicated part of the Santa equation in my house is…me.    The Jew.  I understand the concept of instilling joy, wonder, and a sense of belief in innocent children, but the Santa magic doesn’t come naturally for me. You see, Santa didn’t come to my house, and Hanukkah Harry didn’t give me Hanukkah presents.  My parents did.  Doesn’t everyone know that?

When Dylan and Riley were younger, I would wrap and put presents under the Christmas tree as I bought them.  It seemed like a logical and organized way to manage the holiday until one day Mike tactfully explained to me that presents had to be hidden until the kids went to sleep on Christmas Eve so they would think Santa delivered them.  And so began my “Christmas for Dummies” journey to embrace the enchantment of Santa Claus.

I’m trying. I really am.  A few days before Christmas, Dylan asked me. “Where’s Daddy?”  I said, “At Best Buy buying Christmas presents.”  Oops. His response was, “Why is Daddy shopping? Doesn’t Santa bring our presents?”  Crap.  “Santa sent Daddy a text message that he needed some help.  Santa’s very busy, you know.”  Not bad.  At bedtime on Christmas Eve, during Riley’s CSI-style interrogation, he asked, “How will Santa do it?” Maybe he’ll break a window or pick a lock.  I had no clue.  In fact, it occurred to me that we should set the alarm.  In the end, I went with, “Pixie dust.”

Even Dylan saw his Jewish Mama struggling.  On Christmas morning, Riley asked, “Did Santa bring me a big train?”  Then, “Did Santa bring me an airplane?”  “Santa” bought neither, but before I could respond, The Believer said, “Santa brings you what you want.”  Indeed.

Thankfully, after all the presents were opened, the Santa talk subsided, except for The Skeptic.  “Where is Santa now?”  St. Barts?   “What is he doing?”  Having a stiff drink.  “Can we go to his house?”  Sigh.

Two days after Christmas, I took the boys to see “Rise of the Guardians.”  It was a great movie full of wonder, fantasy, and faith, and it definitely helped me, The Jew, rethink my Santa cynicism.  (Thank you, DreamWorks.)  When the movie was over, The Believer said, “That was the best movie ever!” and The Skeptic asked, “Mommy, why did Santa have weapons?”  Oy.  It’s true that Santa wielded two very long and sharp swords throughout most of the movie.  He was also huge and sported a lot of ink.  All I could do was laugh.

Luckily, there’s one mythical character I can really wrap my arms around…the Tooth Fairy.  This is great news because GUESS WHAT?!  Dylan has a loose tooth!  His first one!  I honestly don’t know who’s more excited.  Dylan’s wiggling his tooth non-stop, and I’m shopping online for Batman tooth pillows.  I can’t wait for the night when The Believer puts his first tooth under his pillow and falls asleep with a flashlight by his side just in case he wakes up to catch a glimpse of the magic.

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Filed under Christmas, Hanukkah, movie