From Christmas lights to Christmas trees, from Santa and his reindeer to that (damn) Elf on the Shelf, December is synonymous with one holiday – Christmas. And, as much as I love to get into the Christmas spirit with my kids, I find that I know nothing about the other holidays that are happening around us without much less fanfare: Hanukkah and Kwanzaa.

If I know zero about Hanukkah or Kwanzaa, my kids will know even less. That changes this holiday season! This year I plan to add some inclusiveness, diversity, and sensitivity to our traditional red and green holiday cheer. 

How might I explain the basics of Hanukkah and Kwanzaa to my children? With a parody of a Christmas classic, of course –

Shine Your Light

‘Twas the weeks before Christmas,

And all over town,

Kids made wish lists,

Red and green lights and decor all around.

My friend, Ashley, she’s Jewish,

She does different stuff,

She tells me her menorahs are cool,

A “Festival of Lights,” to me, is interesting enough. 

Hanukkah lasts for eight days,

Is the Hebrew word for rededication,

Lit candles from the December 18^th through 26^th,

Makes quite a marvelous window decoration. 

During Hanukkah, Ashley spins a dreidel,

To me, it looks like a top,

Saying “nun,” “gimmel,” “hei,” or “shin”,

She gets a gift when her’s finally stops. 

Christmas and Hanukkah are both coming soon?

I’m excited to add more celebrations to December,

I’ll wish Ashley “Happy Hanukkah,”

The week before Christmas if I remember.

“There is another holiday,”

Said my friend, Jenna, “this time of year,”

“It’s called Kwanzaa,

Right after Santa leaves with his flying reindeer.”

“Kwanzaa starts on the 26^th,

It’s a celebration of community,

Bedded in seven guiding principles,

That, until last year, were all new to me.”

Umoja is “Unity,”

Kujichagulia is “Self-Determination,”

Ujima is “Responsibility,”

These principles are better than a new game on PlayStation!

Ujamaa is “Collective Economics,”

Nia means “Purpose,”

Kuumba is “Creativity,”

Imani is “Faith” and that’s all seven, Jenna’s certain. 

On day six of Kwanzaa Jenna even says,

It’s time to feast,

And after celebrating Hanukkah, Christmas, and this,

I may be the size of Disney’s Beast!

I thank Jenna and Ashley,

They have me here thinking,

There is more to December,

Than gift wrapping and Christmas carol singing.

So many of us celebrate differently,

In our own kind of way,

Whether Hanukkah, Kwanzaa, Christmas, or all,

The feeling of joy and gratitude is the same.

So, to my friends in December,

As I wave them goodbye,

Happy Hanukkah, Merry Christmas,

Blessed Kwanzaa.

Good night.

Whether on a tree or a menorah,

Do our community a favor,

My friends,

And shine your light. 

+ + +

Maybe, after all, learning the basics of these other December holidays will allow my kids to better understand what the Christmas season is all about – collective good, family, and celebrating all the differences that make each of us, ourselves.  And, let’s be honest, aren’t those better lessons for our kids to understand than how the Elf on the Shelf made snow angels in the sugar?

Photo: © Ana / Adobe Stock.

I’m older now. I sense finality more. Last ballgames, the last time they need your help on the sledding hill or on their bikes or getting dressed or tying shoes.

+ + +

Do you know Shel Silverstein? It doesn’t matter much, a poet – any artist, really – is only showing you what you already know. Does this line sound familiar? “Once there was a tree … and she loved a boy.” Yes, The Giving Tree.

I have a weird and long history with his work. I first encountered him in my youth in the 1970s in Playboy magazine, which, at the time I was reading for the articles and interviews. Later, in college, in an acting seminar I was taking, I helped develop – and later toured to elementary schools – a short work based on his poems. At that time, I would have never guessed I’d be folded up on a tiny chair, reading some of the same poems to my twin sons’ first-grade class some 25 years later.

Silverstein is sometimes called a children’s writer, but there is a lot of his work that would prove the contrary. Even in the books and poems he wrote for children, there are nods and winks to the parents and caregivers. I remember reading The Giving Tree once and choking back a sob at the deep joy and sadness in so few and simple words, perhaps you have as well.

I was reminded recently of his poem “Happy Ending” from his last book Every Thing On It, published posthumously:

There are no happy endings.
Endings are the saddest part.
So just give me a happy middle
And a very happy start.

I never thought about beginnings and endings much as a younger man and hardly at all as a boy. I suppose that may be because they often seemed simultaneous. Eighth grade ends, high school begins; friends go, others move in to fill the spot; this job gone, a new one comes along – nothing was ever final.

I’m older now. I sense finality more. Endings are often poignant and bittersweet. If you’re a parent you’ll recognize them – last ballgames, last sippy cups, the final swim in the baby pool, the last time they need your help on the sledding hill or on their bikes or getting dressed or tying shoes … you know. I think that’s what Shel Silverstein means by no happy endings — a story may end positively enough but that means the story is over and stories, when finished, are sad. They fall into memory and retire — quietly, softly — to our hearts when they’d much rather live on.

As a parent, though, I was always thrilled about those starts. God, memories just swamped me, as happens — the rolling over, the cruising, the toddling; all the new and different foods; beach trips and diapers and more diapers and sand and sunburns; the first teams, the first games, the first wins, the first losses; the first strum on guitar strings, the first carefree dancing … why am I crying?

Endings averted … for now

Our twin sons are nearly 14 and heading for high school next year. End, start. Start, end. It’s tough to watch, this cycle. Although it is heartbreaking at times, it also is where we witness great joy.

We were in the basement playing ping-pong recently and as the boys hit back and forth, I noticed our old Nerf basketball hoop was drooping, the duct tape failing against the wooden shelf. I went to pull it down and hesitated – an ending. For a brief while – brief for me, longer for them — many months, let’s say, the boys played some version of a basketball game. They called it “Get-the-ball-and-shoot.” You gotta like a game that’s rules are in its name. They did it for hours. There was pushing and arguing. The rules were refined, penalties assessed. They were 6, maybe 7 years old then. It was cute to listen to though a little hard to watch because there was an inherent, well, wildness to it.

Anyway, as I stood, hand reaching up only a little, Zack said: “Don’t take it down, Dad … yet.”

“Yeah, just leave it up for a while longer, it brings back good memories. Three serves seven.” Nick said and served.

Even they know endings are hard.

Do you measure your kids each year or half year as we do? So did Shel Silverstein. Do you mind if I share another? This is called “Wall Marks.”

Those scratchy marks there on the wall,
They show how short I used to be.
They rise until they get this tall,
And Mama keeps reminding me
The way my dad would take his pen
And as I stood there, stiff and straight,
He’s put a ruler on my head
And mark the spot and write the date.
She says that it’s my history,
But I don’t understand at all
Just why she cries each time she sees
Those scratchy marks there on the wall.

Boy, he knew, didn’t he?

Excuse me, I’m going to go downstairs and make sure a Nerf basketball hoop and net stay up for, well … forever.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Bill Peebles left a 30-year career in the restaurant business to become a stay-at-home dad to twin boys. He writes a blog, I Hope I Win a Toaster, that makes little sense. He coaches sometimes, volunteers at the schools, plays guitar, and is a damn good homemaker. He believes in hope, dreams, and love … but not computers.

Wall marks and growth chart endings photo: Bill Peebles

We can’t think of a better way to celebrate April as National Poetry Month than by encouraging you to read the work of one of our own City Dads Group members.

Ben Berman, a member of our Boston Dads Group, recently had published  his second collection of verse. Figuring in the Figure (Able Muse Press) covers many topics in its 88 pages but the final section of the book covers fatherhood, including birthing and baby care classes, the arrival of his child, and those first precious months of life. His work, including the non-parenting poems, is filled with wry humor and familiar scenes like this one that opens the piece “Nothing Archaic about It”:

“She walks and cries out with an onslaught
of needs, beckons us like the torso
of Apollo: You must change your daughter.”

Figuring in the Figure has garnered great reviews. “Both expansive and structured, the interwoven stanzas allow him to form and reform probing questions of identity without ever forsaking a deep musicality,” raved Beth Ann Fennelly, the poet laureate of Mississippi. “His observations are enriched with various kinds of humor … This book is wise and wonderful.”

Berman, a high school teacher and poetry editor for Solstice Literary Magazine, also writes a monthly “Writing While Parenting” online column about how the two jobs overlap and intersect.

Berman lives in the Boston area with his wife and daughters. His poetry collection, Strange Borderlands, won the 2014 Peace Corps Award for Best Book of Poetry and was a finalist for the Massachusetts Book Awards.

You can purchase Figuring the Figure here.

I am a big fan of both poetry and children and now is the time to celebrate them both — April is National Poetry Month!

The Academy of American Poets first declared National Poetry Month in April 1996. Over the years, it has become the largest literary celebration in the world with schools, publishers, libraries, booksellers, and poets celebrating poetry’s vital place in our culture.

The Academy of American Poets’ website serves as a hub for information about local poetry events during the month, so be sure to check it out for local events you and the family can enjoy. The organization also provides free educational resources to teachers for classroom celebrations and activities, and commissions an annual festival poster with almost 150,000 copies distributed to schools, libraries, and community centers for free. In the past, these collectible posters have been designed by noted graphic designers such as Chip Kidd and Milton Glaser.

To help parents celebrate National Poetry Month with their little ones, I’ve compiled some excellent web resources for children’s poetry (reading and writing) below. Also here’s one of my favorite poems: Eating Poetry by Mark Strand. Strand passed away last year, but this poem of his lives on, and it is a great reminder of the joy of reading (and eating) poetry.

Eating Poetry is one of the first poems I remember reading and completely loving. It makes several leaps of metaphor that just make perfect sense to me, and it has left me hungry for more poetry ever since.

If you’ve got other resources to add, leave them in the comments below.

Poems written mostly by adults:

• Poetry Foundation poems for children
• 62 Poems for Kids
• Poets.org – Poems kids like
• Writers Digest: The Best Poems for Kids

Poems written mostly by kids

• Lori’s Webs: Young Poetsages 5 to 18
• AndreaShavick.com: Young Poets page

How to write poems with kids

• Kenn Nesbitt’s Poetry Writing Lessons for Kids
• Judy Helton’s teaching poetry