And the experiences: We did manage to have a lot of those, thanks mostly to Tara, who set out to stretch the Christmas holiday across the whole month of December. We saw Irish dancing and a Santa Lucia parade and Christmas light displays. The highlight was a fantastic production of The Nutcracker featuring sets designed by Maurice Sendak. I was amazed at how well my kids knew the story, both from reading the book and seeing the ballet in past years. (During the scene where the nutcracker battles the mouse king, Chloe stood up on her chair and shouted, “Throw your shoe! Throw your shoe!” at the main character, Clara.)
On Christmas Eve, Tara and the girls made goodie bags packed with cookies, fruit, granola bars, and a couple of bucks, and delivered them to homeless people around Seattle. That night, I cooked a big pot of African peanut soup and we feasted with friends, then headed to the beach for a bonfire and hot chocolate and s’mores. (Just like Jesus used to do!) The girls wore themselves out playing tag and tackle-your-sister in the moonlit sand. Rarely, I suspect, have two kids fallen asleep faster on the night before Christmas.
And me? “The Grinch”? “Ecodad”? The guy who asked people to get his kids nothing for Christmas? I can’t remember a holiday season as rich and full as this one. Even the presents were awesome. From Lucia, I got a great handmade picture with the message, “I wold like to bild a tree howse with you for Christmas!!!!” Chloe’s card said, “Let’s go mountain climbing!” Tara gave me a gift certificate for a night at a Russian sauna.
None of these are things — just promises of more good times to come. And that’s what I gave them, too. Lucia and Chloe each got two “daddy days” — days of their choosing in the coming year when they can call everything off (school, work) and go on an adventure with me, or just stay home and read a good book. Lucia got an afternoon at the art museum. Chloe got a trip to the zoo. Tara got 52 personal days — one day a week during the coming year when I’ll take the kids and she can do whatever she wants. It’s my effort to clear space in her life so she can take care of herself rather than us for a change.
Sure, my “nothings” couldn’t compete with Barbie for sheer, visceral, Christmas Day ecstasy. But I bet if I ask them a few years from now what they remember about this holiday season, it’s the experiences that will stick with them, not the stuff.
So thanks, everyone, for all the holiday wishes and gifts — and especially for the nothings. It’s been a great ride. Now if you’ll excuse me, there are mountains to climb and tree houses to build.
