Welcome to your new favorite Christmas Card letter. Where instead of a year’s worth of humblebrags, you get to read about “Mom Gasps” along with some truly absurd battles waged and, mostly, lost.
COLE’S BATTLES:
As the youngest brother, Cole has learned how to work the system pretty well. In his world, “yes,” “maybe,” and even sometimes “no” means “yes.” When that isn’t the case, I’m not sure who’s the most shocked – him or his brothers. That exact scenario played out this past spring when I made Cole follow in his brothers’ (two left feet) footsteps and participate in “Fortnightly,” the ballroom dancing course where 8th graders are required to dress up, work on etiquettes and even (eww) dance with partners. He completed the course, just like his brothers, with no new discernable dance abilities, but he can tie his own tie, so I’ll take that as a win.
As the smallest brother, Cole also has to contend with certain size-based challenges. So, when the Jamaican water sports crew saw him sitting on the outside seat of the 3-person tube and asked me for a phone to record the ride, we all realized that he was doomed. I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone fly that high in the air, end over end, for that long before crashing into the ocean. To be fair, all three boys flew off the tube and ended up sputtering and treading water while the boat crew laughed and recorded. Cole summed it up quite nicely, “That was truly terrifying, mon.”
TYLER’S BATTLES:
Tyler is not the first college kid to come home to a bedroom transformed into a storage room, craft room or extension of a sibling’s room. He may be the only one who came home to his bedroom being all three. This fall, he encountered almost 1500 Beanie Babies in various levels of sorting strewn about between Custom Gravestone worktables, art supplies, a projector and huge fake spiders hanging out of every window. He eventually dug out enough room to sleep and hey, his trophies are still in there… somewhere.
Most of Tyler’s battles are with his own poker face. He has had to swear off the card table (in his own house) because the glee others take in calling his bluff was starting to get expensive. Card games, in general, are his Achilles heel – particularly against more than one opponent. Feel free to ask him about 3-person Gin Rummy, 3-person Uno or Blackjack with more than one player. “It’s not fair! I always need the card I can’t have!” We aren’t recommending a move to Vegas any time soon. Or ever.
JOHN’S BATTLES:
Following in Tyler’s footsteps, John also struggled with competitive card and board games this year. Not since the Great Othello Wars of 1997 has John been this annoyed by games. (OK, he was annoyed in 1997 by me pitching a fit that he kept winning and literally throwing the Othello game out.) John has found his nemesis in Cole, though. Ever since Cole learned how to cheat at Candyland as a toddler, he has been eyeing John’s board game crown. In Jamaica this year, John was officially dethroned after a weeklong Connect Four duel. John attempted the game drunk, sober, buzzed, early morning, late night, try-hard, casual, with audiences and without. He did not win a single game and Cole offered no quarter. “Aim for the King, best not miss.”
John also had a falling-out with his beloved Euchre. He has long bragged that he is unbeatable at Euchre (sometimes using revisionist history to pretend his college streak did not include cheating, but I digress). His new streak of *losing* at Euchre is pretty spectacular. When he called home from a golf trip to complain that no matter the partner, he was the loser, his nemesis immediately piped up with “You’re washed, old man. Give it up.” Honestly, I’m not sure how Cole is still allowed to live here.
LEO’S BATTLES:
Last year, Leo’s Massacre Manor battled the rain non-stop. This year, it was the wind. Not as bad, but when you have a 12-foot swaying skeleton threatening to crush cars like a modern-day King Kong, you’re vigilant. The fog machines made neighbor yards two blocks away spookier than ours. We even lost the “murder shed” tent (a fan favorite) the night before Halloween weekend. Never fear – we have learned to always have a back-up, and Leo can MacGyver with the best of ‘em. The corn maze with the hay bales and stalks, though, was a legendary battle forged on two fronts. The wind and…
THE SQUIRRELS FROM HELL. I mean, not really – that would actually fit the theme, but these buggers managed to multiply, get fatter, faster and smarter by the day. They would divebomb the corn stalks and topple entire hay bales like dominos. They knocked over every non-zip-tied skull we have. They ate pumpkin guts faster than zombies eat a brain. Leo tried running at them, throwing tennis balls, using high-powered water guns and eventually, gel blaster rifles. They began to just puff up on the patio furniture and stare at him defiantly. Leo is now asking for an “official Red Ryder air rifle” for Christmas. We think we’ll waive the “you’ll shoot your eye out” clause so the next round in the never-ending “War of the Squirrels” will have Leo come out victorious.
JEN’S BATTLES:
If you follow me on social media or saw me in person at any point after Halloween, you know about the “incident” because I was more than happy to keep showing everyone the massive, disgusting bruise covering my entire arm. For those who missed it, let me sum up. I graduated from harmlessly pratfalling into some shrubbery during Haunted House takedown 2023 into FALLING DOWN A WINDOW WELL during Haunted House takedown 2024. Coincidentally (not?!), this is all the squirrels’ fault. Those assholes had dragged a bunch of the corn stalks behind the AC units. In my attempts to rake the stalks out, I apparently leaned on the well’s grate more than I thought and WHOOSH – an old-lady Alice in Wonderland without the benefit of anything labeled “drink me.” Luckily, I am also a Weeble-Wobble, so I tend to bounce, but I’m still happy to share the pictures of my bruise, if anyone wants?!
In terms of the other “battles” I’ve lost this year, let’s just say that I’m my own worst enemy. Deadlines set; deadlines missed. To-Do lists created; To-Do lists ignored. Resolutions proclaimed… well, you get the idea. I am a bit of a hot mess. But if I ever get my act together? LOOK OUT!
THE “MOM GASP”
The boys recently started referring to a specific noise I make as the “Mom Gasp.” Apparently, I do it quite often. When one of them startles me. When I’m talking to myself and get caught. When something unexpected happens in traffic (usually when one of them is driving). When a big donation comes in for The Lovey Project. When I’m watching something and it’s scary or exciting or ridiculous or frustrating (so, always the Packers). It happens a lot when I’m watching them play sports. Basically, my life is one big “Mom Gasp.”
Here’s the thing, though. I love that. I love that this life still surprises me, scares me, frustrates me, delights me. This life still has so many stories to write, so many “battles” to wage, so many adventures to be had and so much joy and laughter to squeeze in to every moment. While there are always lows, some silly but many others that are sad, hurtful, even devastating, there is also always friendship, community, family and hope.
So please join the Dean Family in a toast to 2025. Cheers to a world full of shared stories, (mis)adventures, joy, laughter, love and all the “Mom Gasps” to go with it!
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