1. Denial
You find yourself convincing yourself that those seven packages from various online retailers merely contain stuffed animals. Is it really already 11 p.m.? No way this will take long; we’ll be asleep by midnight, right? Surely, most of these toys come mostly assembled. After all, I was the president of the German club fifteen years ago and breezed through shop class. Everything is fine; I have all the batteries we need, the right sizes too! I definitely know where the drill is, and it’s fully charged. Yes, I recall where the tiny screwdriver is too. All the pre-drilled holes are indeed pre-drilled. This year, we won’t need that 9-inch Santoku knife, pliers, or even a blow torch—promise.
2. Blame
Enter the witty comments from the partner who contributed nothing to the toy shopping and was supposed to start assembling things weeks ago. Then there’s the ‘over Christmas’ parent, who has been on the hunt for the perfect toy since Halloween, ensuring they snagged the hottest item for that child who only wanted one specific thing. “This is your fault; the kids don’t need all this!” Oh, really? No, it’s your fault for procrastinating! “Well, it’s your mother’s fault for spoiling the grandkids and sending all these toys here for us to assemble!” Seriously? It’s your fault for not having any female sperm! Enjoy shoving that lengthy Hot Wheels track somewhere uncomfortable. I’m heading to bed.
3. Nostalgia
Ah, those serene Christmas Eves before the kids—just the two of us, a crackling fire, a dinner devoid of nugget-shaped foods, and no toys to assemble while fighting off sleep. Remember waking up on Christmas morning at 11, sipping coffee, and sharing thoughtful gifts? Our first Christmas as a married couple, eagerly anticipating our first child—how we couldn’t wait for a kid old enough to sit on Santa’s lap without fear. Those adorable letters to Santa, the pure belief in Christmas magic. Ah, memories, like the corners of this coffee table we haven’t seen in years because it’s been baby-proofed. Here’s to waking up at 5 a.m. to admire the new hot water heater we gifted each other. What are your plans for New Year’s Eve? Don’t forget to set the alarm for midnight for a smooch.
4. “We’re Done Having Kids”
This realization usually hits after two or three kids, around 2 a.m., with exhausted voices. When a hungry baby wakes up, the toddler cries from a nightmare. You’re still assembling that perfect workbench for your son. You both start saying it. Her: “Don’t touch me again.” Him: “Let’s have another baby, it’ll be fun!” Her: “I’m done with this!” Him: “How can we even? They ALL sleep WITH us!” Her: “NO MORE KIDS.” Him: “Fine by me.” Of course, you end up having two more anyway.
5. Acceptance
You stop arguing and dive into the task. Like diligent elves, you synchronize your efforts, clinging to any remaining energy. You share a laugh over your earlier quarrel, then step outside into the chilly air to try out that shiny red scooter. You toss around the new football and kick the soccer ball. You label the bike “From Santa,” push the trains along their tracks, and fill up the stockings. Eventually, you fall asleep, even if just for a few minutes, grateful for the joyful chaos awaiting you in the morning. You’ve embraced adulthood and successfully navigated another Christmas Eve as parents. Merry Christmas!
This article was originally published on Dec. 24, 2015. For more insights on home insemination, visit this post or check out this guide for authoritative information. The CDC offers excellent resources related to pregnancy and home insemination.
Summary
The five stages of Christmas Eve toy assembly reflect the rollercoaster journey that parents experience, from initial denial and blame to nostalgic memories, frustration, and finally acceptance. This humorous yet relatable account captures the chaos and joy of preparing for Christmas morning, reminding us of the value of family and the magic of the season.