holiday magic | Good Times with Jess

It’s that time of year when I drag the 3-foot metal Hanukkah sign out of our attic, along with many other Hanukkah bins.

I actually did it two weeks ago. I’m leaving tomorrow for Austria and I’m back in Boston on the 14th right when everyone will be lighting candles for the first night of Hanukkah.

And while my children seem unconcerned about me missing lighting candles, the concern for presents is real.

They are wrapped and ready in our library/office/gym/recycling catch-all room. They are covered in a large sheet. BB knows they’re there, but I didn’t tell RB because she’s RB.

RB wandered into that room to pick out a book for bedtime. She has plenty of books in her room, but it’s a brilliant excuse to go back downstairs.

She wound her way around the odd covered heap and said,

“Is that the wooden car all covered up?”

“I don’t know.” I really don’t know. What the heck is she talking about? Wooden car?

RB struggled to get access to the bookshelf she wanted. She groaned,

“GRRR! This wooden car is in the way! Can we uncover it?”

“No!”

She settled on a book and marched out. As she passed Captain she complained,

“That wooden car is in there all covered up and it’s in the way!”

I swear to you I have ZERO idea what she’s talking about, but obviously she has no idea those are the Hanukkah presents. May they still be unwrapped when I get home.

I have said I have enough Hanukkah tchotchkes, but that feeling only lasts until the next amazing Hanukkah sighting at Home Goods.

Two weeks ago I dropped the girls at Hebrew School, ran some errands and low and behold I found myself in the parking lot, with many other women, waiting for the doors of Home Goods to open at 9:30am.

It was before Thanksgiving, so I wasn’t sure if there would be a Hanukkah display yet, but always worth checking when I’m in the neighborhood.

There was! I went straight for the little, lone, blue table in a sea of red Christmas. And pink Christmas. And turquoise Christmas. Really any color Christmas.

There were two little pink Hanukkah houses. Ah I thought to myself, these are perfect for my traditional Hanukkah village that didn’t exist until last year.

Most of this repurposed Christmas stuff for Hanukkah didn’t exist at all ten years ago. I’m not oblivious to the fact that they’re just taking things and putting menorahs on them instead of Santa, but I’m here for it. Or in Home Goods for it.

As I perused the several pink Hanukkah houses, I felt someone beside me, another mom from Hebrew School!

I was so excited to see her! I have never had competition at the Hanukkah table before.

She sighed and said,

“I don’t decorate for any holidays. I don’t like tchotchkes.”

“You don’t like tchotchkes?” This store is a giant tchotchke.

“No, but my kids are begging for me to decorate.”

“You would die if you saw my house.”

I regard my shopping cart filled with more Hanukkah tchotchkes. Looks perfect.

You’ll be impressed to know that I popped into Home Goods again this week, saw a giant, pink, adorable, stuffed dreidel with legs so short and thin AND I DIDN’T BUY IT.

Also there are now TWO small Hanukkah tables in Home Goods. We’ll see if there’s anything worthwhile left when I get home.

Say a prayer for Tutu, Snowflurry and Menschie. Those are our elves on the shelves and our Mensch on the bench.

I’m not sure who believes what anymore and I have my doubts that they’re going to move when I’m away.

I mentioned this to BB, that they might not move and she looked horrified.

“Why wouldn’t they move?!”

“Oh I don’t know, they might be so busy they forget?”

She shakes her head.

The other day RB told me,

“I believe in reindeer, but I don’t believe in reindeer who fly.”

“I feel the same way.”

We also all still agree that everyone lives in the Land of Make Believe. So either everyone is suspending disbelief to believe in that guy from Israel and two gals from the North Pole, or I have no idea what’s going on.

BB and RB are running around making homes for them, writing them notes and feeding them. As BB reached for a bag of gummies to offer them, I joked,

“You should probably make sure those are kosher if you’re leaving them out for Menschie.”

“Kosher?”

“Does Menschie keep kosher? I don’t even know.”

BB started examining the bag, eyebrows knit in concern. Does she really think he’s real? It’s only last year he arrived after she asked me for him.

So will our magical cast of characters still be alive and well when I return or will they be hungry and stuck in the same corner all week? Only time will tell.

This morning they’re very happy in the Hanukkah village of yesteryear or actually of this week. It’s very new.

A friend from book club has expressed a desire to see my Hanukkah tchotchkes. I’ll be home Dec 14th and anyone is welcome to stop by. Hanukkah shoes optional, but I’ll be wearing mine.

It’s that time of year again when I marvel at the enormous amount of Hanukkah decor I’ve accumulated and I don’t add anything else. NOT ONE THING.

JUST KIDDING. Home Goods had a giant, metal, light up sign, as tall as my children, with arrows showing you what direction Hanukkah is. It’s HERE!

If I jumped the shark four years ago when I purchased traditional Hanukkah gnomes. I don’t know what I’ve done now, considering this decoration doesn’t even fit in our storage bins

Tutu, our elf on the shelf is back, she had a baby. Which surprised all of us.

I bought a tiny American Girl doll elf, intending to give it as a gift Christmas Day/Hanukkah night. The tiny elf is so CUTE. I couldn’t resist it coming out sooner.

What I didn’t anticipate was that this would send RB down the rabbit hole of how babies are made and more specifically, how elf babies are made.

Things in the Land of Make Believe have deteriorated. I’m not sure who believes what at this point and I’m about ready to wave the white flag or one of my 37 Hanukkah dish towels.

I would like to tell you I did not buy another one this year, but that would be a lie.

RB (my 5-year old) has come down every morning and interrogated me.

A few weeks ago, before our elf appeared, she stared deep into my soul and asked,

“Is the Easter Bunny real or are you the Easter Bunny?”

“What do you think?”

“I think it’s you.”

“Ah.”

She does not like this non answer. She presses her nose against mine and yells

“TELL ME THE TRUTH!”

I cannot hold up to these interrogation techniques. I whimper,

“It’s me.”

“I KNEW IT!”

At which point BB (8-years old) joined us and I thought RB would tell all. RB didn’t say a word.

Then Tutu our elf appeared. BB reminded RB not to touch her or else that would ruin her magic. BB ran around writing notes to Tutu, making her jewelry and when I wasn’t home, putting out a charcuterie board with cheese for her.

Why Captain thought that was a good idea I DO NOT KNOW.

The next morning RB pressed her face against mine and yelled,

“Is Tutu magic or DID YOU BUY HER AT THE STORE?”

“What do you think?”

“I think she’s real and pretend.”

“Sounds about right.”

No one should have to deal with the 7am pre-breakfast wrath of RB. (Who may be hard of hearing, so we’ll give her a small benefit of doubt with the yelling.) She locks eyes with me, staring deep beyond my soul again and shouts,

“DID YOU BUY TUTU AT THE STORE?!! TELL ME THE TRUTH!”

“Yes, I did.”

“I knew it.”

Again BB joined us and I was sure RB would tell her the new information. RB didn’t say a word. Not only did RB not say a word, but she continued to join BB in talking to Tutu and relaying messages for Santa.

Then two nights ago RB lost her first tooth! She accepted her money and hasn’t asked a single question about the toothfairy.

This morning, in what has continued to be my 7am torture session, RB asked,

“Does Santa really bring presents or is it you and Dad?”

Months ago I told both kids,

“This year, because the first night of Hanukkah is the same day as Christmas, we’re not going to do any Christmas presents. We’ll just do Hanukkah presents.”

BB said,

“That’s ok, because Santa will still bring us something.”

And so Santa set aside one gift for Christmas, because as you may have guessed, I have a strong affinity for Hanukkah.

This morning, RB wouldn’t even give me her usual good morning hug, kiss and snuggle. She demanded answers about Santa. I asked,

“What do you think?”

“I think it’s you and dad.”

“Yeah.”

“IS IT?!? TELL ME THE TRUTH!!!”

“Yes, it’s Dad and me.”

BB told me recently that a friend had told her and RB that the Easter Bunny wasn’t real. I asked BB,

“What do you think?”

“She made those muddy footprints in our living room one year!”

“That’s true. I think the Easter Bunny is like a unicorn. You can believe in them if you want.”

“Unicorns aren’t real.”

“Right.”

“The Easter Bunny is.”

So I think we’re in the land of BB wanting to believe. And I’m not sure what land RB is in. She believes and doesn’t believe and hasn’t said a word to BB about any of it.

To put this all over the absolute top. BB came home from Hebrew school this week and asked,

“Why don’t we have a Mensch on the Bench?”

“I don’t know. We have two elves. Isn’t that enough?”

“But the Mensch on the Bench is for Hanukkah.”

“Is the Mensch on the Bench magic?”

This is a huge question of mine. The whole elf on the shelf thing goes along with Santa and all that make believe. BB ponders the Mensch magic dilemma and replies,

“Maybe?”

Our Mensch on the Bench is facing a shipping delay from whichever magical place with tariffs he’s coming from, but he should be here December 20th.

I asked my fellow Jewish yoga buddy,

“I don’t know what I’m doing with the Mensch, is he magic? Where does he go every night? Not back to the North Pole.”

“Jerusalem!”

Of course he does. Please give a warm welcome to our future Mensch and the last bit of Hanukkah decor I will buy. Until next week.