I finally mailed out the last of my Christmas presents today, a mere twenty-eight days late. This is fine, though, because they're destined for my family and we're not too strict with deadlines. I receive almost daily updates from my brother telling me how close he is to mailing out my gifts, which still hasn't happened yet, so at least I'm better than he is.
What gets me, though, is how pathetic my purchased gifts are. They're mostly minor trinkets or joke gifts, perfectly acceptable and appreciated on Christmas day when you're surrounded by presents, but when you receive a package at the end of January and discover it's socks and a bobble-head you can't help but feel a bit slighted. Again, though, my family has pretty low expectations when it comes to gift-giving so I shouldn't worry too much.
On the bright side, The Boy is getting a trickle of presents from slacker relatives and loving it. Dumping a pile of toys on a toddler all at once is a bit cruel, in my opinion, so I'm happy to see him receive one or two at a time and actually play with them for a bit. Christmas day was a madhouse of unwrapping and having pieces of flashing plastic thrust into his hands only to have them wrenched away, replaced with something new. I'm pretty sure by the end of it he had a mild case of shell shock.
I, on the other hand, fully appreciated his distraction and commandeered some of his toys for my own enjoyment. So, Merry Belated Christmas.
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I used to put some of the Christmas gifts away rather than to give them to the wee ones all on one day. This requires planning (and peeking)so that great Aunt Millie isn't calling to see if little Gregory loved (or got) his fuzzy dog. Select a few winners for under the tree. Open the clothing and put it away (ask any kid how much he loved his new socks!), write those thank yous for everything, and bring out a new toy when your wee one (or you) gets bored. This works until he/she learns to talk and rats you out.
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