Ok, I know that Christmas is behind us, but I love this video so I’m throwing out one more Christmasy post and then I’ll move on.

This beautiful pup with a red collar was found in East Gloucester. Anyone know who might be missing her?

Well, hmmm.  Not sure what I’m supposed to tell you to do on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day….other than treasure your time with friends, family, and loved ones.  Enjoy every moment….and be in the moment.  Have a happy holiday, create memories, share some magic, and savor the minutes together.  Please also take some time to reflect on those who are not enjoying their holiday season…those who are sad, sick, hurting, lonely, cold, or hungry…those whose downward days are only more punctuated on these days that we consider special. 

The weather, while not like last year’s 70 degree Christmas, should be in the 40s so get outside, listen to nature, walk the dogs…..and continue the spirit of giving by leaving small treats outside for the wildlife.  We like to sprinkle bird seed and cover pine cones with peanut butter and seed for the critters. Sometimes we drop fruit and vegetables on our favorite paths in the woods.

As the last part of “Christmas in Rockport”, Santa will be visiting Dock Square at 12:30 in the afternoon we hand out baskets full of treats to the town’s children and to give them the opportunity to say “Thank you” for all of his hard work during the holiday season.  The boys will write “Thank you” letters and deliver them to Santa Christmas morning.  It has always been a nice tradition….rather just writing lists of what they want for Christmas…they also get to thank him as well.

So, I get the whole Ugly Sweater Party phenomenon and, while I can’t say that I’ve ever been to an Ugly Sweater Party, I think the idea is super fun and funny.  Especially during the holidays!

But, I kind of thought that the idea was to find a sweater that was actually being sold as a real sweater….that is kind of over the top and/or ugly….and then wear it proudly….which is why it’s funny.

So, I’ve been surprised to run across “ugly sweaters” being marketed and sold as, in fact, “ugly sweaters”…and for more than a pretty penny.  Doesn’t that defeat the purpose?

I’m also thinking that if I were to be on the hunt for an ugly sweater, I’d be hitting consignment shops (older ones) or the Salvation Army and hunting for a true gem or a diamond in the rough (something straight out of Aunt Milly’s Teacher Holiday Sweater Collection)…not logging onto, say, Dick’s Sporting Goods and buying one all easy peasy.  Isn’t that like cheating?

Hadn’t seen this yet…  pretty funny.

If you are looking for a simple and kind of old school Christmas gift….check this out.  It is one of the Schrafft family’s favorite past times for sure.  Freddy and I first discovered “Shut the Box” while wasting away a rainy afternoon on Nantucket with a few Bloody Mary’s at what used to be the Atlantic Cafe.  We probably played for hours…and looked forward to popping a squat at the bar and playing a few rounds during later trips to the island.  We were both sad to discover a few years later that the Atlantic Cafe (the A.C.) was no longer there…nor was Shut the Box.

Several years later a friend of ours bought me one of our own for Christmas.  I had totally forgotten how much fun it was.  I actually then purchased one for my classroom as it turns out that it’s a great way to learn simple addition math facts.

We introduced the game to Thatch and Finn a while back and they immediately took to it as well.  We’ve clocked some hours playing on the coffee table at home, by the pool at various hotels, and in front of the fire up north.  The boys look forward to it as kind of our thing. I like that it is part luck of the roll…and part strategy. For me it’s a win, win, win with the boys.  They’re practicing their math reasoning, we’re spending some quality time together, and (my personal favorite part) truly anyone can win!

The same friend who bought it for me years ago, sent me a link this fall when a “Four Family Family Shut the Box” became available on Zulily.  So, I obviously bought it for them (us) for Christmas.

They started to play at halftime during yesterday’s Patriots game….so I took a quick video.

Here’s the gist….

1.  One player goes until they can’t go any more.
2. You roll two dice at a time and add up your score
3. You then decide which slots of the box you want to close….to add up to the same number.
4. For example…if you roll a total of 9…you can close just 9, or 8 and 1, or 7 and 2, or 6 and 3, or 5 and 4….or even three slots, like 5 and 3 and 1.
5. You keep rolling and selecting which slots to close….until you roll a number that you can’t make with your remaining numbers.
6. You add up what you have left….and that becomes your score.  For example, if you can’t roll a 7 and you only have slots #8 and #3 left…you can’t go…and your final score is 11.
7. Obviously, the lower your final score the better.

Every once in a while you actually “Shut the Box” and close all the slots…getting a score of zero.

When one person is done, they record their score, and then the next person goes.  We usually play 5-10 rounds and add up our total scores.  The person with the lowest total wins.

At least 6 cars were just involved in an accident heading north on 128 right in front of Sudbay’s.  Just because the temperature has risen,  doesn’t mean the roads are safe.  Be careful.  I missed getting a photo even though my husband is driving….but I worry about the cars heading towards to accident not being able to stop quickly enough!

If I were Santa….this is what I’d be doing on December 26th.

Typically, we save all of the holiday cards that arrive in our mailbox for just one year.  The boys love opening them each night and we keep them on display until it is time to pack up the other holiday decorations and Christmas tree ornaments.  We then pack them away carefully and look forward to seeing the cards again the next year.  After looking through them 12 months later, they are then recycled….even though it hurts a little to do so.

That being the case, I was surprised when my husband brought a large pile of cards down from the attic this year that were actually much older.  This stack of cards was from the year 2000.  16 years ago.

16 years, it turns out, is a long time in Christmas Card years.  For example, during the Christmas season of the year 2000, we were very recently engaged….but were not married and had no children.  We had, in fact, not even sent out Christmas cards that year….but we had received a lot.

Going through that stack of cards ended up being rather bittersweet.  A lot had changed. Some for the better, some for worse.  Addresses…landscapes….faces….family dynamics….hair color….hair lines….furry friends….and more.  Some single friends are now “coupled.” Some couples without children….now have several.  Some married friends are now divorced….and some remarried.  And, the hardest to discover, some (too many) of the cards were sent by friends and family who have since passed away.  Worst of all are the family photos now missing a member….whose void is hard to believe.

Much love to all who are missing someone special this holiday season….and to those who know those voids all too well.

Poor Santa seems to be having a hard time getting started today.

Do you ever wake up in the morning and just know that something feels off….and kind of wait for something to happen…even though you have no idea what you’re waiting for?  That was me, on Thursday.

I woke up immediately all in my own head…making my lists (checking them twice), already running late before even really getting going, remembering the gas light came on the night before, and wishing that I had finished packing lunches/snacks before going to bed.  The puppy woke up the boys…as he does every morning…by nosing his way into their bedroom, jumping on the bottom bunk, stepping all over Thatcher, stealing a stuffed animal, and “climbing” as far up the ladder as possible to whimper to Finn.

Finn, in turn, wakes up the same way every day.  Immediately happy to see Minnow, stumbles into the living room rubbing his right eye with his right fist, and mumbles “Who won?”….because invariably, someone was playing something when he was shuffled off to bed.  This time of year he wants the Bruins update and tries to park it on the couch for game highlights…even though he KNOWS the deal is get dressed first.  Ground Hogs’ Day.  Mad…he stomped back into his room that particular day….and things went from bad to worse when he realized he was supposed to put on…HEAVEN forbid…a sweater.  Gasp. The horror.  His class was heading to the Nutcracker and I refused to send him looking anything other than “Theatre Casual.”  

He was grumpy and, for whatever reason, it made me mad.  The day was already out of whack.

During the somewhat quiet ride to Beverly I started having Mother’s Remorse.  Shouldn’t have gotten angry, should have given him a few choices of what to wear, could have struck a bargain, could have offered a change of clothes for after the field trip, etc.  And then, I started to remember the school bus accident last week that took the lives of several young children….and how horribly horrific, unexpected, and unfair it was.  And how those parents must be feeling.  And I vowed that there’d be no more arguing….especially over something so small. Because, what if?  I can’t even.  Image. 

Thatcher’s day was off too.  He sought me out on campus all teary about some social interactions.  Not the norm for him at all.  I was already feeling kind of spent and emotional and seeing him sad tugged at my heart strings a little more than usual.  Why?  I still, I soon realized, had that nagging feeling that the day was awry. Thatch and I took a walk and sat in the car for a bit….talked….hugged it out….and parted ways to head to class and head to work.  

The rest of the day was uneventful, I guess.  We left school at 4:00, I took the boys home to Freddy, and turned right around to meet a friend at her home just outside of the city…to go to a Bruins game.  With tons of traffic near the malls I started nearing late….but with the traffic soon letting up…I crossed over to a little bit early.  Which, I realized at the last minute, gave me time to make a little pit stop to get the boys a treat.  Back all in my own head again, I was already thinking about how late I’d be getting back to Rockport, about what I was going to use for a blog post the next day, and about the fact that I’d have to finish packing lunches AND get to work extra early on Friday as we had some important things going on in the morning.  After having had a rough start to our day I thought I could put a little smile on their faces the next day by packing a favorite special snack in their snack bags for them from a place that we don’t get to often…and expedite the snack packing process at the same time.  Win…win.  

I pulled into the parking lot at 5:59….they close at 6:00.  Would they be open?

There were two people just inside the door.  Coats on, bags in hand, the man digging through his stuff, clearly looking for something….and looking like they had just wrapped up work, were shutting down shop, and about to leave and lock the door. I used some sad excuse for sign language to ask, “Are you still open?” The girl looked at me confused.  I tried again and her eyes averted to somewhere else in the shop…towards an employee….which I then realized quickly they were not.  I tugged on the door and, in fact, it was still unlocked.  I stepped around the couple and walked to the counter….and was a bit intrigued (for lack of a better word) by the random items on the floor at the man’s feet.  A toothbrush, some ear buds, some wrinkled clothes, am empty soda bottle, etc.  I started to order….they started to fight.  Quiet somewhat censored whispers escalated to full on yelling almost instantly.  The woman at the register seemed unnerved yet made no eye contact with me….seemingly having decided that her strategy was going to be to ignore.  I, at the same moment, realized This was what my brain seemed to know was coming all day long.  Swearing started, crying started, some throwing and slamming started…..and I’m pretty sure I whispered, “oh, shit’ aloud.  

My little wax paper bag with the top folded over perfectly (which I remember thinking this is so absurd…she is taking the time to fold my bag perfectly while these two are erupting 15 feet to the left) was handed to me….and I knew I had run out of time.  They were blocking the door, I had no more business to do in the bakery, and it was time to decide which route to go.  1) Say “excuse me”, walk out the door, and move on with my evening  or 2) Get involved.  

As I turned, she, who had been quietly whimpering as he did most of the yelling, yelled back. “I don’t even need you!”   He, infuriated by that, used some expletives and stormed out of the shop.  Which left us, two strangers, face to face, for the first time.  I asked (ridiculous in retrospect), “Are you ok?” and she burst into tears and said, “no.”  She started telling me that she couldn’t do it any more and that she just wanted to leave. I noticed she had two medium sized yellow trash bags, one in each hand, and that, while her mouth barely opened when she talked, there was something wrong with her gums and teeth.  A weird thing to notice I guess.  Just as I was thinking, “What the hell am I going to do now?” she asked, “Can you please give me a ride?”  Shit.  How do you say “no”?….but, how do you say “yes”?   I have two young kids….can I really get more involved?  My mind was racing….she looked sad….and so tired….and so desperate.  And I really wanted to help.  Shit.  She just needed her check from Burger King….just down the street….could I take her to go get it….and then she’d find a hotel….

The door burst open…it was him again.  He started yelling, “I’m all you have, I gave you a place to stay when even your own family wouldn’t take you, I came to the hotel last night to save you when you called, Where are you going to go?, What are you going to do with out me?”  She just said, “STOP.”  She shoved past him and….before I could really process what was happening….climbed into the back seat of my Jeep.  Incredulous, there I stood….in a tiny parking lot…outside of a now closed bakery…in a nice town…next to a strange man….looking at a scared girl….sitting alone in my car.   Shit.   He started to tell her to get out, yelled a lot more, and looked like he was about to grab her.  She just sobbed, “Stop.”  I told him that he could not put his hands on her….and that he had to leave her alone….and look at her, she’s terrified.  And then I thought, Does he have a gun or a knife or is he about to grab my little SCOUT bag or my car keys from my hands.  Is he going to hurt her? Is he going to hurt me?  She’s sitting in Finn’s seat? What the hell….is she really sitting in Finn’s seat?  Is it safe to drive her somewhere? Then what? Shit.

He turned to me, now seeming more sad and desperate than mad and scary, and started detailing what “went down” the night before.  She called…he went….she was under a blanket shaking…empty bottle of Advil…he saved her…she has no one…trust me…I’d never put a hand on her…..     She just whimpered, “Please take me.”   He said, “Trust me, she needs me.” Shit.

I remember thinking about 900 different things.  Take her, leave her, she’s still in my car, I’m late meeting my friend, I have two young boys…. I KNEW something bad was coming my way today….  And, ridiculously, I remember saying, “Guys, I don’t know what to do, seriously, I was just trying to buy my kids a snack.”  It occurred to me that all three of us were desperate at that point.  She, suddenly seeming to sense that I couldn’t commit to taking her with me, jumped out of the car and ran away across the street, he followed.  My heart broke a little.  I really wanted to help her. But I was also relieved.  Could I really have helped her?  And it seemed he was just trying to help her.  What about him?

And then, thank goodness (I think), a police car came tearing in. The cruiser stopped not far in front of me.  An officer jumped out. The girls in the shop had called the police. I told him, “I really didn’t know what to do” and he told me “Well, they’re both going to jail now.”   And my heart broke a little bit more.  He ran off after them, I got in my car, wondered for a second Did she leave anything in Finn’s seat?, and then started to drive.  As I got to the next intersection and stopped at the light, two more cruisers came flying towards me….and went off to assist.  

I was relieved, but I wasn’t. They’re going to jail, but then what? What could I have done? And then, inevitably, came the cliche, but true, feelings of We’re so lucky, What went wrong for her? How did she end up on the street?  One wrong turn…..  I’ll never be mad at my boys again.  I thought about her all night.  I went to the game.  I had a great time with my friend.  #blessed, right?  Later that night, on my way home to Rockport, I kept thinking she was still in the backseat. I obviously knew she wasn’t.  Once home….I immediately checked on the boys… got ready for bed…and didn’t sleep.  I thought about her, and myself, and my boys, and our life, and everything else….all night long.  

I still feel horrible for not being brave enough….or stupid enough….to help her more.  She was so desperate and it is hard to think that I didn’t let her down.  But, maybe jail saved her? I don’t know. I’d like to tell you that I could wrap up this story with a neat little bow and a nice little moral, but I can’t.  Maybe you can provide me with one.  What would you have done?  

“Decorating the tree each year is like seeing a friend you’ve been missing”….or so says my older son, Thatcher. I couldn’t agree more. I LOVE some of our favorite ornaments….and it’s like, well…it’s like Christmas…unpacking them each year.

The other night was tree decorating night in the Schrafft house and I promised myself I’d be “in the moment” and not worried about lunch packing, laundry folding, email checking, work finishing, or even blog posting.  Not easy for me…sad, but true.

It is amazing to me that, at the fine ages of nine and seven, the boys already cherish these miniscule moments….the who always hangs what and the Oh! I remember buying this whens.  We have all adopted these quirky little practices of how the ornament boxes are placed in a row on the couch, which ones are gently unpacked first and who hangs which ornaments. It has played out organically over the years and without real intention, but each moment is special in the tradition that makes Christmas “ours.”

Even Santa likes a little bit of hockey.  But, while the zamboni is cool and all, I’m guessing he’s probably missing his reindeer.