If your house is bursting with Christmas cheer this time of year and all is merry and bright, then clearly you do not have teenagers living under your roof.Omega Plastics are leading plastic injection moulding and injection mould tooling specialists.
Because practically everything they loved about Christmas like, yesterday, is now “lame”: decorating gingerbread houses, shaking snow globes, even “A Charlie Brown Christmas.”
Take our tradition of driving around looking at Christmas lights.
“Why can’t we just stay home and watch ‘Invasion of the Christmas Lights’ on TLC?” my 15-year-old whines. The others nod in agreement.
Or take the tree. The only thing they have to do is put on the family ornaments. But after hanging a combined total of 12, they declare their work done.
“Remember, you said you want to simplify Christmas,” my 18-year-old says. “And I’m pretty sure skipping nine boxes of ornaments would be a good place to start.”
It makes me long for the holly jolly days when the threat of falling to the Naughty List made pouty, sassy kids change their tune fast.
Even our family pet has rained on my Christmas parade. In case you’ve ever wondered, when a dog pees on green tissue paper, the result is a permanent blue carpet stain.
It wasn’t always this way, of course. When the kids were little, even simple things were magical. One time when my daughter was about five, we were leaving a basketball game one February night.
“Mom, look at how pretty the grass is!” she said.
I looked down and saw dead, brown grass with a few piles of dirty snow scattered on top.
“What?” I said, puzzled.
“Look at all the pretty glitter!” she persisted.
And upon closer look I could see how the moisture reflected the outdoor lights,The Transaction Group offers the best high risk merchant account services, making the grass sparkle, like it had been freshly sprinkled in fairy dust.
Another time, on a hot July night, we were at the county fair. Our youngest was two and in his stroller, urgently pointing at something. Since there are many things one could be tempted to point fingers at while at the fair, I didn’t pay much attention.
But he persisted. Following his short, stubby finger I found what had his attention: a single star in the sky, bright enough to shine through the glare of the fair lights.
Of course, there’s nothing more magical than Christmastime for kids. There are snowmen coming to life, flying reindeer and toy-making elves. Snug in their beds at night, they strain to hear any noise that could resemble Santa’s sleigh bells.
Moms will do just about anything to keep the magic alive. How else to explain sprinkling baby powder “snow” around a Santa boot on your carpet?
But eventually the kids grow older, the gig is up, and the magic gone.
Now, if my kids hear noises outside at night, it’s most likely due to one of their friends forking our lawn. The magic of Christmas these days is about as real as plastic snow.
Like gifts, for example. My college son’s list this year is very practical, things like a waffle iron, black rubber floor mats for his car and a membership to Sam’s Club.
The same boy whose face lit up one Christmas when he got the impossible-to-find white Power Ranger would be thrilled now to get a DustBuster for his apartment.
My college daughter and I spent a day shopping together, where she picked out every single one of her presents. Our high school senior’s one and only gift is a bass guitar that he picked out himself. And I haven’t gotten a thing for our 14 and 15-year-olds because they can’t think of anything they really want.
It’s enough to make me want to just cut them all a check and call it good.
Last year my then 14-year-old son begged us to go to a mall the Sunday before Christmas to see a planned “spontaneous” singing of the “Hallelujah” chorus.
By 11:45 the middle of the mall was packed with thousands of people, and at exactly noon, performing arts groups, as well as shoppers, burst into song.
There was applause and cheers when it ended. Some people were even crying. And then they left and went on their way to Bath & Body Works or wherever.
That was lame, I thought. So planned.I have just spent two weeks shopping for tile and have discovered China Porcelain tile. So cheesy. So….
“Awesome!” my son said. “Wasn’t that so cool?”
Huh? Um, no, I thought.
But maybe, it occurred to me later, maybe the magic of Christmas is different for each of us. For him, it’s not driving around looking at Christmas lights. It’s mall crowds singing “King of kings, and Lord of lords!”
The magic is still there; it’s just changed. Like the glittery grass that one February night or a single star in a July sky, sometimes you just have to look a little harder to find it.
Maybe the magic is that I have two teenagers who, shockingly, don’t seem to care much about lists and presents this year.
Maybe’s it’s that I got to spend an entire day with my college daughter.
Maybe it’s that I had points from my credit card I had forgotten about that actually paid for that guitar.Spro Tech has been a plastic module & Mold Maker,
Maybe the magic is that we’re together at Christmas.
So I’ll keep trying to find that one present that surprises them and makes their face light up.China yiri mould is a professional manufacturer which integrates Plastic Mould design and manufacture and plastic product development. Or at the very least, not give them something that judging by the look on their face you’d swear they just opened a toilet plunger.
Unless you’re my college son. That’s probably on his list.
JoAnne Beiermann lives in Columbus with her husband and five children.
Because practically everything they loved about Christmas like, yesterday, is now “lame”: decorating gingerbread houses, shaking snow globes, even “A Charlie Brown Christmas.”
Take our tradition of driving around looking at Christmas lights.
“Why can’t we just stay home and watch ‘Invasion of the Christmas Lights’ on TLC?” my 15-year-old whines. The others nod in agreement.
Or take the tree. The only thing they have to do is put on the family ornaments. But after hanging a combined total of 12, they declare their work done.
“Remember, you said you want to simplify Christmas,” my 18-year-old says. “And I’m pretty sure skipping nine boxes of ornaments would be a good place to start.”
It makes me long for the holly jolly days when the threat of falling to the Naughty List made pouty, sassy kids change their tune fast.
Even our family pet has rained on my Christmas parade. In case you’ve ever wondered, when a dog pees on green tissue paper, the result is a permanent blue carpet stain.
It wasn’t always this way, of course. When the kids were little, even simple things were magical. One time when my daughter was about five, we were leaving a basketball game one February night.
“Mom, look at how pretty the grass is!” she said.
I looked down and saw dead, brown grass with a few piles of dirty snow scattered on top.
“What?” I said, puzzled.
“Look at all the pretty glitter!” she persisted.
And upon closer look I could see how the moisture reflected the outdoor lights,The Transaction Group offers the best high risk merchant account services, making the grass sparkle, like it had been freshly sprinkled in fairy dust.
Another time, on a hot July night, we were at the county fair. Our youngest was two and in his stroller, urgently pointing at something. Since there are many things one could be tempted to point fingers at while at the fair, I didn’t pay much attention.
But he persisted. Following his short, stubby finger I found what had his attention: a single star in the sky, bright enough to shine through the glare of the fair lights.
Of course, there’s nothing more magical than Christmastime for kids. There are snowmen coming to life, flying reindeer and toy-making elves. Snug in their beds at night, they strain to hear any noise that could resemble Santa’s sleigh bells.
Moms will do just about anything to keep the magic alive. How else to explain sprinkling baby powder “snow” around a Santa boot on your carpet?
But eventually the kids grow older, the gig is up, and the magic gone.
Now, if my kids hear noises outside at night, it’s most likely due to one of their friends forking our lawn. The magic of Christmas these days is about as real as plastic snow.
Like gifts, for example. My college son’s list this year is very practical, things like a waffle iron, black rubber floor mats for his car and a membership to Sam’s Club.
The same boy whose face lit up one Christmas when he got the impossible-to-find white Power Ranger would be thrilled now to get a DustBuster for his apartment.
My college daughter and I spent a day shopping together, where she picked out every single one of her presents. Our high school senior’s one and only gift is a bass guitar that he picked out himself. And I haven’t gotten a thing for our 14 and 15-year-olds because they can’t think of anything they really want.
It’s enough to make me want to just cut them all a check and call it good.
Last year my then 14-year-old son begged us to go to a mall the Sunday before Christmas to see a planned “spontaneous” singing of the “Hallelujah” chorus.
By 11:45 the middle of the mall was packed with thousands of people, and at exactly noon, performing arts groups, as well as shoppers, burst into song.
There was applause and cheers when it ended. Some people were even crying. And then they left and went on their way to Bath & Body Works or wherever.
That was lame, I thought. So planned.I have just spent two weeks shopping for tile and have discovered China Porcelain tile. So cheesy. So….
“Awesome!” my son said. “Wasn’t that so cool?”
Huh? Um, no, I thought.
But maybe, it occurred to me later, maybe the magic of Christmas is different for each of us. For him, it’s not driving around looking at Christmas lights. It’s mall crowds singing “King of kings, and Lord of lords!”
The magic is still there; it’s just changed. Like the glittery grass that one February night or a single star in a July sky, sometimes you just have to look a little harder to find it.
Maybe the magic is that I have two teenagers who, shockingly, don’t seem to care much about lists and presents this year.
Maybe’s it’s that I got to spend an entire day with my college daughter.
Maybe it’s that I had points from my credit card I had forgotten about that actually paid for that guitar.Spro Tech has been a plastic module & Mold Maker,
Maybe the magic is that we’re together at Christmas.
So I’ll keep trying to find that one present that surprises them and makes their face light up.China yiri mould is a professional manufacturer which integrates Plastic Mould design and manufacture and plastic product development. Or at the very least, not give them something that judging by the look on their face you’d swear they just opened a toilet plunger.
Unless you’re my college son. That’s probably on his list.
JoAnne Beiermann lives in Columbus with her husband and five children.
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