Christmas 2006 in Linz
Since it is only just noon in Albuquerque now, it is too early to call and talk to everyone there, so it seemed like a good time to write a blog post about Christmas in Linz.
In many ways it feels as though we have been quite self-centered and more or less oblivious to everyone else around us this year. Until last week it really felt as though Christmas just wasn't going to happen at our house this year. We didn't even manage to send the one, single Christmas card that we try to send every year (to Jean and Will), although I did manage to get a few little packages together for Peter to mail to Albuquerque from San Francisco, and last week Christopher and I attempted to mail a small parcel to Kemble. However, since I found myself at the post office with only email addresses and telephone numbers in my palm, which Christopher used to call Jack at least three times without being able to exactly remember the post code in the end, that parcel may or may not eventually find its way to Kemble. I have yet to encounter a single person from London (and I have met quite a number of people from London this year), who could even begin to imagine approximately where my brother lives from my description, and since a parcel that Sara sent to us one year, which was clearly and correctly addressed, arrived at our house from Cirencester via Sydney, I don't really have very much hope that the parcel will actually reach its intended destination.
Nevertheless, a few days ago we started collectively thinking about Christmas, and it started to be fun. The boys did a fantastic job of picking out presents, and I was reminded again that I am fortunate enough to be married to the most generous man in the world. Yesterday evening we went to Peter's parents' house for our Austrian Christmas celebration with Peter's parents and his sister and her family, which was quite nice. Before we left, Christopher said he wasn't feeling well, but I thought he was joking about wanting to stay home and work on his music rather than go to a family celebration. Unfortunately, he wasn't joking. When he curled up on a little sofa on the corner, I thought he seemed too warm and started getting nervous. When he jumped up and ran to throw up, we all started getting nervous. After we got him home and into bed, and the slightly less than usually disorganized elves managed to get the rest of the presents under the tree (remembering just at the last minute to fetch Patrick's newly refurbished chair from the cellar) and the stockings filled (hint: mousepads are not ideal stocking presents, especially not in combination with a warm scarf), Peter and I enjoyed a glass of whiskey together and went to bed feeling some relief that we would probably not be woken up in only a few hours by our excited children telling us that Santa had come. They were very sweet when they were that little, but I'm glad it doesn't last forever. Instead, we were woken up at 2 am by Christopher running to throw up again. At that point we were very worried and very wide awake. I definitely prefer being woken up at 3 am by a 4-year-old helpfully trying to make coffee.
Last year I was constantly prepared with a Plan B in the back of my mind for every occasion. I remember shopping for Christmas presents while mentally rehearsing what plans we had made with Peter's family and with friends and how we could rearrange all those plans if we had to take Christopher to the hospital. Until two o'clock this morning, I wasn't even consciously aware of having fallen out of the habit of always having a "Plan B" ready in the back of my mind, but I suddenly realized I didn't have one. Christopher quickly went into a deep sleep on the couch, and Peter and I agreed that if he wasn't up to opening presents in the morning, we would simply wait until he was, however long that might take, and that we would all be able to cope with whatever came next.
In fact, Christopher did feel better in the morning – he even made coffee for us at 8.30, so we all got up then. He still isn't feeling very well, but he says it is only his stomach that bothers him, not his head, and his temperature has generally stayed at just a low fever all day, so we are hoping that he has really just picked up some kind of a stomach bug.
Although it feels a bit odd and selfish to have concentrated mainly on presents for one another only among the four of us, sitting there with my three men this morning, I just kept thinking what wonderful people they all are. The actual contents of the presents would not have been so meaningful without the accompanying stories of the choosing of them, and it was good to enjoy this time together. I think Peter and I are very lucky to have two such wonderful sons.
In many ways it feels as though we have been quite self-centered and more or less oblivious to everyone else around us this year. Until last week it really felt as though Christmas just wasn't going to happen at our house this year. We didn't even manage to send the one, single Christmas card that we try to send every year (to Jean and Will), although I did manage to get a few little packages together for Peter to mail to Albuquerque from San Francisco, and last week Christopher and I attempted to mail a small parcel to Kemble. However, since I found myself at the post office with only email addresses and telephone numbers in my palm, which Christopher used to call Jack at least three times without being able to exactly remember the post code in the end, that parcel may or may not eventually find its way to Kemble. I have yet to encounter a single person from London (and I have met quite a number of people from London this year), who could even begin to imagine approximately where my brother lives from my description, and since a parcel that Sara sent to us one year, which was clearly and correctly addressed, arrived at our house from Cirencester via Sydney, I don't really have very much hope that the parcel will actually reach its intended destination.
Nevertheless, a few days ago we started collectively thinking about Christmas, and it started to be fun. The boys did a fantastic job of picking out presents, and I was reminded again that I am fortunate enough to be married to the most generous man in the world. Yesterday evening we went to Peter's parents' house for our Austrian Christmas celebration with Peter's parents and his sister and her family, which was quite nice. Before we left, Christopher said he wasn't feeling well, but I thought he was joking about wanting to stay home and work on his music rather than go to a family celebration. Unfortunately, he wasn't joking. When he curled up on a little sofa on the corner, I thought he seemed too warm and started getting nervous. When he jumped up and ran to throw up, we all started getting nervous. After we got him home and into bed, and the slightly less than usually disorganized elves managed to get the rest of the presents under the tree (remembering just at the last minute to fetch Patrick's newly refurbished chair from the cellar) and the stockings filled (hint: mousepads are not ideal stocking presents, especially not in combination with a warm scarf), Peter and I enjoyed a glass of whiskey together and went to bed feeling some relief that we would probably not be woken up in only a few hours by our excited children telling us that Santa had come. They were very sweet when they were that little, but I'm glad it doesn't last forever. Instead, we were woken up at 2 am by Christopher running to throw up again. At that point we were very worried and very wide awake. I definitely prefer being woken up at 3 am by a 4-year-old helpfully trying to make coffee.
Last year I was constantly prepared with a Plan B in the back of my mind for every occasion. I remember shopping for Christmas presents while mentally rehearsing what plans we had made with Peter's family and with friends and how we could rearrange all those plans if we had to take Christopher to the hospital. Until two o'clock this morning, I wasn't even consciously aware of having fallen out of the habit of always having a "Plan B" ready in the back of my mind, but I suddenly realized I didn't have one. Christopher quickly went into a deep sleep on the couch, and Peter and I agreed that if he wasn't up to opening presents in the morning, we would simply wait until he was, however long that might take, and that we would all be able to cope with whatever came next.
In fact, Christopher did feel better in the morning – he even made coffee for us at 8.30, so we all got up then. He still isn't feeling very well, but he says it is only his stomach that bothers him, not his head, and his temperature has generally stayed at just a low fever all day, so we are hoping that he has really just picked up some kind of a stomach bug.
Although it feels a bit odd and selfish to have concentrated mainly on presents for one another only among the four of us, sitting there with my three men this morning, I just kept thinking what wonderful people they all are. The actual contents of the presents would not have been so meaningful without the accompanying stories of the choosing of them, and it was good to enjoy this time together. I think Peter and I are very lucky to have two such wonderful sons.
posted by Aileen at Monday, December 25, 2006
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