I have a migraine headache today. Migraines suck. For years, I had myself convinced that it was my sinuses, so on top of the unrelenting pounding on typically one side of my head (today it is the left side), I would force myself to inhale copious amounts of saltwater with the use of various ancient torture contraptions called neti-pots. I effectively water-boarded myself, on a regular basis, to add to the torment that my body was already going through and I never understood why it didn’t work. What can I say, other than admitting that I can be a very obtuse, stubborn, know-it-all? I own that fact. (all of my friends and my family are nodding their heads vigorously, and clucking their tongues right now) Anyway, I worked with a woman who told me that she gets migraines and she described them and it is only then, in my mid-forties, that I realized that I am prone to migraine headaches. If you think you have sinus issues and these issues are not getting resolved, look up migraines. It could be an a-ha moment for you, like it was for me. I have medication now, that is usually very effective in thwarting my migraines, but I waited too long to take it, and I have a hair appointment in an hour or so, that I can’t cancel, because my stylist is headed out of town. My hair is already looking “ombre-ish” (not on purpose) with unsightly greys melding into faded out blondish-brown, that could use a major dose of color and shine. I don’t do wigs, and we have the usual list of holiday get-togethers/command performances, so today’s experience will be reminiscent of my previous self-torture days of a pounding headache, with my head in the sink, for what will feel like a never-ending eternity. Boo-hoo. Boo-hoo.
Enough of the complaining . . . . yesterday, my friend texted our group chat that yesterday was the anniversary of the “Rudolph, The Red-Nosed Reindeer” Christmas special. The first one debuted in 1964. We got all excited thinking that we were the first kids to grow up, believing in Rudolph. We were the first kids to buy into the legend of a flying reindeer, with a glowing red nose. It turns out that the Rudolph song was written in the 1930s, so it was really our grandparents who were the first kids to have the red-nosed reindeer added to their Santa lore, but I don’t begrudge them for that, too much. They were the Greatest Generation and they deserve that distinction, and all the fun that Rudolph adds to the magic of Christmas. (I’m in Generation X. We don’t deserve anything – ha!) The Rudolph reminiscing got me to thinking about my children’s Santa experiences and that inevitable questioning that comes out, when their reasoning skills (and exposure to the outside world) start to become honed. My middle son is a scientist, at his core. He is the only person whom I have ever met who has used “Organic Chemistry” and “fun” in the same sentence. He likes things to be factual and black and white. He doesn’t like subtleties and nuances and philosophy and subjectivity. At all. So, when he started questioning the whole Santa scenario, he came to me, in a very serious tone. I think that he had been doubting the validity of the Santa chronicles for quite some time, but like every little kid that I know, he felt the need to hedge his bets. If, in fact, Santa was the real deal, and my son was a doubter, he couldn’t stomach the idea, of his siblings and friends, lavishing in their piles of shiny, new, exciting toys, while all he got was dirty, in his little pile of coal.
“Mom,” he said, looking me directly in the eye. “Look, to be clear, I still believe in Santa, okay, but, Mom, flying reindeer?!? I mean, come on?! I don’t believe in flying reindeer.”
Now I’m chuckling. Now my head is pounding even more. I hope that today, you get some chuckles from some of your fondest Christmas memories, minus any headaches. Now go do some decorating and jot down some poems to share, for tomorrow’s soul Sunday. Ciao.
