Tales from the Steppes

2004-12-30

11:01 a.m.
You had one eye in the mirror as you watched yourself gavotte

One of the fun things about being a parent is that you get to inflict yourself on them in a way that you cannot do with another adult. No one else would put up with that crap but your own children have little choice in the matter.

For example, the mongols were subjected to 17 hours of my music on the way to Boston and back. And this time I did not compromise. The EM was smart and brought her own CD player and headphones, as I was not listening to either Hillary Duff or Lindsay Lohan on the car stereo. Parental love only gets you a little stereo time. I did not mind buying her the cds for Christmas but that does not mean I actually want to hear them.

Instead, I made the younger mongols listen to Great Big Sea, which they both love, Arlo Guthrie, they are developing an appreciation for Alice, and hours of the Grateful Dead, which they did not complain about. Anytime they began to argue or whine too much, I just turned the music up louder. Besides, it is part of my job as a parent to insure that the mongols are exposed to different music. When I was a kid, my parents listened to Steeleye Span and that was definitely life shaping.

We left for Boston on Christmas Day, after opening presents, after I took a well-deserved nap. My BIL (was married to the SU's dead sister) was hosting a major Christmas extravaganza and we decided to attend on fairly short notice. The SU flew up and back and the kids and I drove. This actually worked out really well because he had to be back a bit earlier on Tuesday than us, as he had a cystoscopy scheduled, and there was the added bonus of him not getting grumpy at the mongols when they were annoying and me not going to jail for leaving them all by the side of the road when this would happen. A win-win situation for us all.

The BIL's complete extended family were all meeting at his house. I think I counted 10 adults and 15 kids in that house, which doesn't sound like a bad ratio. But the reality was that it was one family with 8 kids, two with 3 kids, and my niece. Unaldulterated bedlam!

And very, very different than the way my (birth) family celebrates Christmas. Christmas at our house was always so civilized. Presents were handed out one at a time and opened in order, with everyone watching, so that thank-you notes could be written later. There was no yelling in the house. If my parents had anything to drink, it would be one glass of bourbon, maybe some wine with dinner. Dinner was always extraordinary (unless we went out for Chinese) and served on china, eaten slowly with good conversation.

In contrast, the Czerniaks are a loud Buffalo-based Polish family that do nothing decorously. I sat and watched them suck down the 18 year old, $100 bottle of single malt that I brought. Poker was played, cigars smoked, and huge huge quantities of alcohol drank. Dinner was served on paper plates and was obviously a group effort. Total chaos ruled.

Which is not to say that this is any worse than what I grew up with - just different. I have strived for a sort of middle road with my own family - something a little more lifelike than mine but not quite as out-of-control as the Czerniaks. The kids had a fabulous time with their (not)cousins and got to ice skate on the pond and play in the snow. While I was not comfortable with the amount of drinking that went on and cigars are right out in any quantity, generally it was a good time.