A Thank You for My Wife

Christmas is much more to me than presents, but I wanted to use this post to thank my wife. Being unemployed limits most non-essential purchases on my part. So Christmas is also the one time of year (other than my birthday) where I might receive some of the things I wasn't able to purchase throughout the year.

My wife did an awesome job this year. I know it's hard for her. She hates getting a list from me. She'd rather come up with original, surprise treasures.

I've always been a collector. Some would correct that statement and say I'm a hoarder.

When I was eight years old, He-man toys hit the scene, followed shortly thereafter by the cartoon series. Both were firmly cemented into my childhood. Nothing makes me as effectively nostalgic as Masters of the Universe.

A few years back, Mattel announced an adult collector's line that is only available online for one day a month offering only one or two items per month. Little did they know, the one day time frame would shrink to around one hour due to demand. Most of these action figures sell out in about 45 minutes, and getting on Mattel's website during that time is a nightmare. Add in my before mentioned unemployment, and any hopes I had of collecting this new line quickly vanished.

Heidi stepped up and bought me two of the lynch pin characters for Christmas this year with He-man and Skeletor.

I also received the Wolfman remake on Blu-ray. As a fan of the original Universal films, I was skeptical when I heard they were remaking this one. I was surprised to find it was appropriately updated with effects, small story adjustments that made total sense, and the acting was spot on. The film stars Benicio Del Toro and Anthony Hopkins.

I finally have a Joe Hill novel in my possession. Hill is a pen name. He didn't want his famous father's name to drive his career. I'm not so sure you can escape a name like Stephen King however, especially in the horror novel business.

I also have Stuff Christians Like, a funny look at stereotypical Christian behaviors.

Our parents and siblings went a bit overboard this year too. The best part about the special day was getting to spend time with everyone. No one had to work. We didn't rush from house to house. There was warmth and familiarity.

Toy Memories

Heidi and I spent some time this past Sunday sorting through our childrens' play room. Since Christmas, it's been a bit overrun and disorganized.

There were some things that were easy to part with. Most of those things made noise for no useful reason. We threw a lot of things away and sent a large number of things to various grandparents' homes. It was only fair. They had purchased most of the toys.

I didn't realize how hard it was going to be to go through some of it though. A lot of things actually had memories attached. It's hard to send away a cartoon character molded in plastic when it reminds you of one of the first times you ever made your youngest giggle. A silly happy meal stuffed rabbit was once a silly game of 'can Papa balance this on his head?'.

It was a rare moment of strength that allowed me to throw away a more recent plastic alligator chomper that Owen had very sweetly asked for during a summer zoo trip. It was broken, and I couldn't think of a way to repair it. It still stung as I dropped it into the trash can. It cost less than five dollars, but I'll always remember his considerate, non-assuming way of asking whether or not he might get such a thing for Christmas that year.

The room looks better. It's highly functional now, and we even made it harder for them to leave messy.

The boys, of course, revolted at first. They didn't like that the often unused, overstuffed toy box was now upstairs, and their organizer, once upstairs, now actually organizes downstairs. There was only one tantrum though, and it quickly gave way to a new appreciation for the functionality we had created. There were also a few questions about this or that specific toy, but in each case, those toys hadn't ever been played with. They had just sat around long enough to be familiar but without any real attachment.

All of this reminded me that, this stage is fleeting. It'll be gone all too soon. The sound of wood blocks clicking together, hotwheels and matchbox cars crashing on the floor, heroes and monsters molded in plastic… I'm going to miss it.