The Lull

It is that time between Christmas and New Year's which can be deadly for parents of young kids, in particular when the holidays themselves fall on the weekend or close as they do this year. For lack of a better nickname, I'm terming it The Lull.

All the kids are home from school, and it is now a full five days since all the excitement of opening presents has passed.

Yes, it is only the middle of the week, kids are showing signs of restlessness, and what were new toys are probably sitting forlornly in the corner and now considered old news.

I have one bit of advice for you. My kids, three of which are technically adults now, will swear I don't know when to stop taking this advice to heart, myself, but it is every bit as valuable today as it was when I started living it.

Get goofy.

No, seriously. Get goofy. Get up from the couch and dash out of the room without a word, hiding around the corner. As soon as a kid gets curious to see what caused the burst of action, jump out and yell BOOO!

Go outside and start a spontaneous snowball fight, preferably out in front where passersby can leap in and play, too.

Hold a very-intently scored face-making contest, complete with the judges holding a pile of cardboard with numbers scrawled on them ("Oh, the Latvian judge gives only a 7! That's going to hurt her chances to make the finals!!"). Of course, the judges are replaced as each person gets a chance to compete. It is completely legal to offer bribes and issue veiled threats to the judges, and pay-backs are considered appropriate when a former judge comes on stage and that judge happened to grade you poorly.

Scary stories, contests to guess if a tale is true or fiction, board games where the rules are changed as each player takes a turn, impromptu rescripting of TV shows by turning down the sound and assigning each person a character to voice, making up entire histories of unknown presidents (Giggledly S. Chortle [the S is for Snort] was among the worst presidents at getting things done, but people loved his press conferences because he was the funniest guy on the planet), describing the scene at your own birth, writing a new song as each person contributes three words by going around the room with only five seconds each to add on...

That's only a few minutes of letting my inner child deal the cards.

You get the idea, right?

Get goofy. Fight back when The Lull seems about to take over!

Heck, get Bernie. Bernie DeKoven is a master funsmith with hundreds of ideas to help you if you run short on inspiration. He's the go-to guy, no doubt.

A sacred day (My Sacred Life, Sunday, special Friday edition)

I have a pretty substantial family here in Denver, and yet I have managed to come upon this morning, this Christmas morning, with the clear intention of being by myself (apologies to the two four-leggers who will be with me) all day.

30 years ago, I spent a Christmas by myself. I was in my room in the barracks where enlisted folks in my squadron lived at Ramstein Air Base, located in southwestern Germany. Please understand that I had plenty of invitations from my fellows, the Air Force people whose families were with them who offered to share their day with me. For reasons I still cannot articulate with any clarity, that wasn't what felt right.

What felt right that day, and what feels right today, is to be by myself and experience what the holiday offers me when there is no other influence except me and my Spirit.

I remember that day, Christmas of 1979, very well. While I was fine most of the day, I did spend a few minutes in tears as I lamented the lost celebration with my family. In those days, my guitar was central to my sense of well-being, and I played a lot that day. The building was totally vacant, so I could play as loudly as I wanted without concern for bothering anyone.

Today, I may break out Ophelia, my guitar, for the first time in a very long while. Her patience is beyond compare, and I know my touch would be awkward at first. We'll see how it goes.