twas the night before christmas

Nov 20

Posted by: Rachel in: blog, current events, family, just another day in paradise, me myself and i, parenting, ramblings, you might be a mom

I had no idea so many versions of this classic Christmas poem existed! Here are a couple good ones I found…

Tis the Month Before Christmas
Tis the month before Christmas, we’re all going nuts;
With so much to do, there’s no ifs, ands or buts.
Buy presents, hang tree lights, pop cards in the mail,
Send gift packs, thread popcorn, find turkeys on sale.

Decorations need stringing up all through the house.
And you haven’t a clue what to buy for your spouse.
School concerts, receptions, open houses with friends,
Long lineups, short tempers, tying up the loose ends.

With all our mad dashing, we’re reeling from shock;
Let’s stop for a minute and really take stock.
It’s crassly commercial, the cynical say;
If that’s true, that our fault-it’s us and not they.

Take time for yourself-though hard as that seems—
Enjoy your kids’ laughter, excitement and dreams.
Take a moment out now, don’t get overly riled,
Instead make an angel in snow with your child.

The shortbread can wait, and so can the tree;
What’s important to feel is a child’s sense of glee.
The holidays aren’t about push, rush and shove;
They’re for friendship and sharing and family love.

Hear the bells, feel the warmth, light up with the glow
Of a message first sent to us so long ago:
Peace, love and goodwill, and hope burning bright.
Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night!


Twas the Night Before Christmas (Parent Style)
Twas the night before Christmas
when all through the house
I searched for the tools
to hand to my spouse.

Instructions were studied
and we were inspired,
in hopes we could manage
“Some Assembly Required.”

The children were quiet (not asleep) in their beds,
while Dad and I faced the evening with dread:
a kitchen, two bikes, Barbie’s townhouse to boot!
And now, thanks to Grandpa, a train with a toot!

We opened the boxes,
my heart skipped a beat—
let no parts be missing
or parts incomplete!

Too late for last-minute returns or replacement;
if we can’t get it right, it goes straight to the basement!
When what to my worrying eyes should appear
but 50 sheets of directions, concise, but not clear,

With each part numbered and every slot named,
so if we failed, only we could be blamed.
More rapid than eagles the parts then fell out,
all over the carpet they were scattered about.

“Now bolt it! Now twist it! Attach it right there!
Slide on the seats, and staple the stair!
Hammer the shelves, and nail to the stand.”
“Honey,” said hubby, “you just glued my hand.”

And then in a twinkling, I knew for a fact
that all the toy dealers had indeed made a pact
to keep parents busy all Christmas Eve night
with “assembly required” till morning’s first light.

We spoke not a word, but kept bent at our work,
till our eyes, they went blurry; our fingers all hurt.
The coffee went cold and the night, it wore thin
before we attached the last rod and last pin.

Then laying the tools away in the chest,
we fell into bed for a well-deserved rest.
But I said to my husband just before I passed out,
“This will be the best Christmas, without any doubt.

Tomorrow we’ll cheer, let the holiday ring,
and not run to the store for one single thing!
We did it! We did it! The toys are all set
for the perfect, most magical, Christmas, I bet!”

Then off to dreamland and sweet repose
I gratefully went, though I suppose
there’s something to say for those self-deluded—
I’d forgotten that BATTERIES are never included!

Twas the Night Before Christmas (Mom Style)
Twas the night before Christmas, when all thru the abode
Only one creature was stirring, & she was cleaning the commode.
The children were finally sleeping, all snug in their beds,
while visions of N-64 & Barbie, flipped through their heads.

The dad was snoring in front of the TV,
with a half-constructed bicycle propped on his knee.
So only the mom heard the reindeer hooves clatter,
which made her sigh, “Now what is the matter?”

With toilet bowl brush still clutched in her hand,
She descended the stairs, & saw the old man.
He was covered with ashes & soot, which fell with a shrug,
“Oh great,” muttered the mom, “Now I have to clean the rug.”

“Ho Ho Ho!” cried Santa, “I’m glad you’re awake.”
“Your gift was especially difficult to make.”
“Thanks, Santa, but all I want is time alone.”
“Exactly!” he chuckled, “So, I’ve made you a clone.”

“A clone?” she muttered, “What good is that?”
“Run along, Santa, I’ve no time for chit chat.”
Then out walked the clone – The mother’s twin,
Same hair, same eyes, same double chin.

“She’ll cook, she’ll dust, she’ll mop every mess.
You’ll relax, take it easy, watch The Young & The Restless.”
“Fantastic!” the mom cheered. “My dream has come true!”
“I’ll shop, I’ll read, I’ll sleep a night through!”

From the room above, the youngest did fret.
“Mommy?! Come quickly, I’m scared & I’m wet.”
The clone replied, “I’m coming, sweetheart.”
“Hey,” the mom smiled, “She sure knows her part.”

The clone changed the small one & hummed her tune,
as she bundled the child in a blanket cocoon.
“You’re the best mommy ever. I really love you.”
The clone smiled & sighed, “And I love you, too.”

The mom frowned & said, “Sorry, Santa, no deal.”
That’s my child’s LOVE she is trying to steal.”
Smiling wisely Santa said, “To me it is clear,
Only one loving mother is needed here.”

The mom kissed her child & tucked her in bed.
“Thank You, Santa, for clearing my head.
I sometimes forget, it won’t be very long,
when they’ll be too old for my cradle & song.”

The clock on the mantle began to chime.
Santa whispered to the clone, “It works every time.”
With the clone by his side Santa said “Goodnight.
Merry Christmas, dear Mom, You will be all right.”

Twas the Day After Christmas
Twas the day after Christmas, and all through the house,
Every creature was hurting–even the mouse.
The toys were all broken, their batteries dead;
Santa passed out, with some ice on his head.

Wrapping and ribbons just covered the floor,
While upstairs the family continued to snore.
And I in my T-shirt, new Reeboks and jeans,
Went into the kitchen and started to clean.

When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the sink to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the curtains, and threw up the sash.

When what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a little white truck, with an oversized mirror.
The driver was smiling, so lively and grand;
The patch on his jacket said “U.S. POSTMAN.”

With a handful of bills, he grinned like a fox
Then quickly he stuffed them into our mailbox.
Bill after bill, after bill, they still came.
Whistling and shouting he called them by name:

“Now Dillard’s, now Broadway’s, now Penny’s and Sears
Here’s Levitz’s and Target’s and Mervyn’s–all here!!
To the tip of your limit, every store, every mall,
Now chargeaway-chargeaway-chargeaway all!”

He whooped and he whistled as he finished his work.
He filled up the box, and then turned with a jerk.
He sprang to his truck and he drove down the road,
Driving much faster with just half a load.

Then I heard him exclaim with great holiday cheer,
“ENJOY WHAT YOU GOT…YOU’LL BE PAYING ALL YEAR!”

Twas the Month After Christmas
Twas the month after Christmas, and all through the house
Nothing would fit me, not even a blouse.
The cookies I’d nibbled, the eggnog I’d taste
At the holiday parties had gone to my waist.

When I got on the scales there arose such a number!
When I walked to the store (less a walk than a lumber).
I’d remember the marvelous meals I’d prepared;
The gravies and sauces and beef nicely rared,

The wine and the rum balls, the bread and the cheese
And the way I’d never said, “No thank you, please.”
As I dressed myself in my husband’s old shirt
And prepared once again to do battle with dirt—

I said to myself, as I only can
“You can’t spend a winter disguised as a man!”
So—away with the last of the sour cream dip,
Get rid of the fruit cake, every cracker and chip

Every last bit of food that I like must be banished
“Till all the additional ounces have vanished.
I won’t have a cookie—not even a lick.
I’ll want only to chew on a long celery stick.

I won’t have hot biscuits, or corn bread, or pie,
I’ll munch on a carrot and quietly cry.
I’m hungry, I’m lonesome, and life is a bore—
But isn’t that what January is for?

Unable to giggle, no longer a riot.
Happy New Year to all and to all a good diet!

Comments

2 Responses to “twas the night before christmas”

    Amber Snipes
    November 20th, 2007 4:49 pm

    I like the “train with a toot” part! Those are great :)

    Lauren
    November 20th, 2007 11:36 pm

    love love LOVE it!

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