I’m a night owl. Plain and simple: If the world would start at around 11:30 and let me sleep in until about 10:30, I’d be one happy momma. I’d stay up late and do my thing and life would be good… assuming that The Daughters still go to bed at 8:00, of course, and then sleep for 14 hours. Life would be GRAND!!
I do my best work late at night. This is not just because I’m a momma and it’s the best time for me to get stuff done without wiping snot or refereeing wrestling matches. It’s been the way I’ve always operated. I love the night life. I love to boogie on the disco floooooor, yeah! (Not really. I’m not a good dancer – but that’s a whole different column!)
Since we are 20 days away from Christmas, I have presents to wrap. Normally, I do my Christmas wrapping late at night after The Daughters have long-since dozed off and The Dad is NOT sleeping in the recliner while watching the game. (No. Really. He wasn’t asleep. He was resting his eyes.)
I love to wrap presents. As I wrap each one, I imagine the look of pure joy that the recipient will flash to me as they say, “Oh, Minivan Momma! I couldn’t have selected anything better if I had selected it myself and had a budget of a million dollars! Again, you – alone – have made my holidays utterly perfect and completely memorable!”
Hey! It could happen. Besides, it’s my gift wrapping fantasy; I can imagine whatever I want!
This weekend, however, I temporarily lost my mind. (Yeah, I hear ya, friends. It is TOO a temporary condition!)
I got out the Christmas presents, the wrapping paper, the tape, the scissors, the gift cards and a DVD of fabulous and favorite Christmas movies. I settled The Daughters in front of the TV and set up my gift-wrapping station. At long last, I selected the first gift of the season to be wrapped. I held it high above my head a la that crazy monkey in Lion King and sang, “Joy to the World” (Three Dog Night’s version) and commenced to wrapping.
No sooner had I cut the perfect amount of neon green Santa paper than I lost the tape. It was just here … Oh, Daughter 2 had it and was already taping the paper to the “French Bistro Cookbook and Ambiance Music CD” that I was giving my sister. (This is what’s called a gag gift: My sister cooks grilled chicken and green beans and listens to her husband cry, “Again??!?! Really???!?!!”)
I reach for the tape and whimper, “Please don’t” to Daughter 2 as she now has the gift taped to her night gown. I reach for the scissors and discover that Daughter 1 has them and is helping me by pre-cutting the entire roll of paper into 6 x 6 inch squares. Which would be GREAT if I were going to quilt my wrapping paper. Which I wasn’t until she did that and I had nothing else to wrap with.
I manage to somehow get my sister’s gift wrapped and am in possession of the scissors and tape once again. I set The Daughters in front of the TV wondering why we, like Aunt Bethany, don’t say the pledge of allegiance before our meals. The Dad, despite his stream-engine-like snoring, is NOT sleeping. Let’s be very clear on that point.
I turn to select the next gift of the season and pull out one of The Dad’s gifts. I carefully place it in a box before anyone catches a glimpse of his much-hinted for gift and tape it up tight and tidy. I begin to piece together a large enough patchwork of paper to wrap the box. I finish the entire wrapping and place the gift tag on it when Daughter 1 (the smart one) hollers out, “For Dad? This one’s for Dad? That’s not fair!” (She’s 8; nothing’s fair!)
This yelling wakes up The Dad (despite the fact that he’s not asleep) and the present is tossed from Daughter 1 to The Dad who violently shakes the present. Daughter 2 decides that this is a game of monkey in the middle and her sister is the monkey, at which time the monkey – I mean Daughter 1 - commences to yelling that she is NOT the monkey, and grabs the present from The Dad to prove that she’s not the monkey because she’s now in possession of the package. “And now Dad’s the monkey!”
And thus begins the 20-minute fight to get that one single present back in my glitter-glued hands in one piece. This quest ends when my gift wrapping station (aka a card table with a cute Christmas table cloth spread out nicely over it) goes spilling from its spot in front of my cozy couch into the front hall.
“Ummmmmmmm, I’m tellin’!” The Dad screams out to The Daughters.
Calmly, I take the present back and set it gently under the tree – tattered paper and all. I pick up my gift-wrapping station and put everything back in it’s place. I go to the garage and collect three items: Wal-mart sacks, duct tape, and a Sharpie marker.
This year, my wrapping is going green. I’m reusing the Wal-Mart sacks as my gift wrapping. I’m recycling that old Sharpie that The Dad used to mark which tools were his to use and which were mine to use. (basically, if it has a cord, he thinks I don’t use it. Key word: thinks.) And I’m reducing my stress level by saving my late nights for DVR’ed episodes of Modern Family – without The Daughters.
(Technically, without The Dad, too… but really, he’s not sleeping!)
You can contact Minivan Momma at minivan.momma.2@gmail.com
© 2009 “Minivan Momma”
