The Christmas Aftermath

We discovered this Christmas that our daughter isn't a hoarder.

She's a blessed child, with grandparents and aunties and uncles (adopted or real) who adore her and send her generous gifts.

Despite a plethora of awesome gifts, Quinn's attention has been focused on the three things she asked for: The Handy Manny Toolbox, Dora's Fiesta Favorites Kitchen and Just Dance 3. (Save for some Nesting Monkeys and a Disney Princess digital camera that captures double chins, bellies and chair legs.)

And while she really digs the latter two, she is hopelessly devoted to Handy Manny's tools.

"Hey, let's show my tools this," she says, trying out a new dance for Just Dance 3. "I want the tools to eat breakfast with me." "Where are my tools?!"

Yes, she's like an OCD carpenter on speed. Well, except she doesn't fix anything. Instead she mocks us repeatedly with the toolbox and its abbreviated Handy Manny theme song. (By the way, the first row of tools actually move around when the song is played and the tools are in the toolbox. It's actually quite frightening if you're unprepared for the action. I was, at around 3 a.m. on Christmas Eve, when I decided it was a good idea to press the button on the box saying, "Try me!")

It was a successful Christmas, nonetheless, with Quinn loving her presents and expressing a true belief that Santa visited her the night before. ("Santa brought me these tools!") That's worth all the Handy Manny Toolboxes in the world.

The First Kid (We Mean "Blog")

Derek and I have been married for more than a decade. It only took us eight years to have our daughter, Quinn, now 2 years and 10 months.

We are clueless as they come when it comes to being parents. Neither of us had any baby experience, and toddlers are an even bigger mystery. As such, we've relied on grandparent advice (semi-trustworthy, if you ask us, considering grandparents are mere shells of the strict parents they once were - seriously... "Why can't she eat M&Ms for lunch?"), familial tips (also semi-trustworthy, thanks to the growing susceptibility around our family to Quinn's cuteness), and random reference books (Dr. Sears, we have a bone to pick with you about co-sleeping).

We've finally decided to start a blog on our experiences and the many ways we've messed up succeeded.

Fittingly, we're starting with Christmas, the holiday of all holidays. The big one. The one day that can make or break you with kids.

And Quinn, being just a breath away from 3, has become all about getting stuff for Christmas. She's even decided to use Santa Claus, the jolly fat man in a red outfit, to help her get that stuff. Last year she screamed her head off when she was just inches from him. This year she jumped on his lap and told him exactly what she wanted.

Hey, Quinn's pretty smart when it comes to getting what she wants, and, unfortunately, dear Kris Kringle is an effective means to her ends.

Thankfully, Quinn has asked for just three things: Dora the Explorer's Fiesta Favorites Kitchen, Handy Manny's Talkin' Toolbox and Just Dance 3, an addiction she's acquired watching us play Just Dance 2.

It's been an interesting time, explaining to most of our family and friends why we're buying tools. It has nothing to do with a toddler addiction to HGTV. Rather, it involves a cartoon Latino handyman named Manny, as voiced by every mother's dream future son-in-law, Wilmer Valderrama.

This year we're hoping the gifts get a lot of play from our kid. Last year's gifts are buried beneath a mound of stuff or were tortured mercilessly throughout the year.

Also up this Christmas are her stocking stuffers, including Play-Doh (this, we worry, will be the end of us - we can barely keep up with cookie cleanup), a couple of new Berenstain Bears books and some other little odds and ends.

We'll let you know if we're successful with this year's offerings. If we're not, well... Failure is not an option, if Quinn knows what's good for her. After all, we're always just a little bit away from doing the Grinch thing and teaching our little Quinny-Who about the true meaning of Christmas, which has absolutely nothing to do with acquisition.