Stocking stuffers.  What a brilliant concept.  If I celebrated Christmas, I wouldn’t even bother getting a tree. I would just buy each member of my family a huge, T-Rex-sized stocking.  And fill it with lots of little things.  Trinkets. Gadgets.  Knick knacks.   Honestly, this seems like more fun than the big stuff.  Anybody with me?  Anyone?  (It was worth a shot.)

Why do I mention this?  Because I haven’t been able to focus on writing a real blog post this week.  I’ve been too distracted. Trying to keep an eye on my one-year-old daughter, Emma, who is writing a guest post for next week. (She keeps pounding away on the laptop and mumbling something about New Year’s . . .)  So, in the absence of anything well formulated, I offer this: little snippets of my fumbling existence.  The blog version of stocking stuffers.

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While putting Jacob, my four-year-old, to bed . . .

Jacob: Mommy, I’m bleeding!

Me: What?!?  Where?

Jacob: Mommy, sometimes you say you’re bleeding because you have a boo boo.  And sometimes you say you’re bleeding because you don’t want Mommy to leave after she gives you hugs and kisses.

(This child will never make a living playing poker.)

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Jacob: Mommy, how come Santa brings kids presents they want on Christmas?

Me: What do you mean?

Jacob: How come Santa sneaks into houses and leaves presents that kids WANT on Christmas?

Me: Why wouldn’t he bring them things they want? Didn’t you get presents you wanted on Hanukkah?

Jacob: No.

Me: Oh.  Well, what did you want?

Jacob: A Christmas tree!

In other news, my efforts to instill a Jewish identity in my son are going REALLY well.

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Driving Jacob home from preschool, we had this conversation.

Jacob: Mommy, how come animals don’t have fingers and toes.

Me: Well, most animals have other things, like paws or fins. But some animals, like chimpanzees, have fingers and toes.

Jacob: How come chimpanzees have fingers and toes like us?

At this point I gave a rambling explanation that touched on dinosaurs, evolution and opposable thumbs.  I’m not sure it even made sense to me.

There was a long pause.

Jacob: Mommy.

Me: Yes?

Jacob: Can you please stop talking and just drive?

Done and done.

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Jacob plunked himself into Dan’s lap and tried to convince Dan to roll backward and give him a ride.

Jacob: Daddy, let’s do that thing that hurts your back!

(This child will never make a living in marketing.)

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Jacob’s report on what happened in school . . .

Jacob: We asked questions about skunks because there was a skunk near the playground yesterday.  And the teachers had a book about skunks.

Me: What was your question?

Jacob: How do skunks sleep– curled up or stretched out?

Me: That’s a great question.  What was the answer?

Jacob:  It wasn’t in the book.  Clayton said “curled up” but I don’t think that’s right.

Me: Why not?

Jacob: Because then the teacher said “THAT’S interrupting”.

Cue laughter.  Mostly mine.

Jacob: Mommy, this is SERIOUS.

Okay, entirely mine.

Jacob:  You’re being RUDE.

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Jacob, Emma and I were at the home of a little girl that Jacob often plays with.  Emma picked up one of her baby dolls.  Then both Jacob and the girl decided that they wanted it.

Girl: Emma, do you want to play with me . . . with that doll?

Jacob:  No Emma, play with ME!

Emma stood between Jacob and the girl, bewildered. Clutching the doll.

Girl: She said “yes” when I asked her.  She wants to play with ME.

Jacob:  NO.  She wants to play with me because I’M. HER. BROTHER.

Girl: Yeah, but brothers and sisters FIGHT.  She wants to play with me.

Jacob: She DOES NOT bite.

Girl: I said fight.

Jacob: Oh. She doesn’t fight either.

Emma quickly toddled away.  Talk to the diaper, people. Talk to the diaper.

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If you are celebrating a holiday this week, I hope enjoy it.  If not, be sure to support your local Chinese restaurant. Tribe members– you know what I’m talking about.  (See you at the movies.)