Clocking Around the Christmas Tree, J.B. Fitzgerald, jbfitzgeraldbooks.com

Come January first, some people party. Some people recover from a party. Some people kick off a new exercise regimen. Others stare at the spectacle outside their windows, thankful they're not that guy sprawled in an unnatural configuration upon the ground. You know, the one who thought jogging on a frozen road during a hailstorm--while wearing ice skates and swinging seventy-pound kettlebells--was the best idea ever. Innovation has to start somewhere. Trust me when I say it isn't ever with that guy.

We did none of these things, though it felt a little like a party--without the deafening beats, booze, confetti, silly hats, or pesky surplus people. In our home, New Year's Day passed with just us--Dennie, Maisie, and myself--marking the time with a whole new manor in a whole new manner.

First there was the custard of the pumpkin variety, a healthfully adapted dessert meant for Christmas Day that we only got around to making yesterday morning. But having a chance to cook together was one of those rare pleasures we thoroughly enjoyed, and, once the filled-and-baked ramekins were covered and chilled for several hours, we'd have a special New Year's treat awaiting a quiet evening, the humans of our trio, and yet another movie in our record-breaking, near-daily streak of holiday films that began on November the first. (Maisie would also partake in movie time and pumpkin perfection via her own soft and chewy Bocce's biscuits.)

With the custard out of the way, an invigorating walk with Maisie behind us, and a hot lunch in our bellies, we moved on to the only unwrapped present left beneath the tree. Every year, I try to find gifts for Dennie that include things I know will be loved, things that will definitely prove useful (like the new winter coat that is not only warm and stylish, it has many convenient zippered pockets), and at least one or two items that are meant purely for fun. This year, one of the latter was a 3D puzzle that, when fully assembled, resulted in a colorful, working Christmas clock with a dangling Santa pendulum that takes to and fro to such rapid extremes, I fear we'll ultimately discover a little wooden floor full of little wooden regurgitated cookies beneath his feet. Poor Santa. You'd think he'd just let go of the rope, but this jolly old elf appears to be a genuine thrill seeker. Given the opportunity and rum-ball-fueled inspiration, I think it's safe to bet he'd also probably go jogging on a frozen road during a hailstorm while wearing ice skates and swinging 70-pound bags of Christmas toys.

Puzzle board retrieved and placed upon the ottoman, Dennie enlisted my help with the construction, which I was delighted to give. Maisie also offered hers, turning the whole clock-making affair into our own private family fête. While we've triumphed over many a jigsaw puzzle and I've handcrafted my own original clock before, this type of puzzle was a first for these Fitzgeralds. Mortise-and-tenon construction predates us by, oh, 7,000 years or so, but I have to say, it makes for a truly ingenious puzzle design, the way the pieces fit--and hold--together in a three-dimensional structure without the hassle or mess of tools or glue. Some of it slid together almost effortlessly. Other parts required maneuvering hands in tiny, barely accessible spaces, in ways no hand is meant to be maneuvered, all while struggling to find a way to apply the requisite pressure without crumbling the entire assemblage into dust. Through every obstacle, we persevered. A few hours later we had sore necks and backs, eyes aching from the strain, another large holiday decoration that we'll struggle next year to fit in amongst the rest, and a whole afternoon of--believe it or not--marvelously merry memories. Deep within our hearts chimed a jolly sense of well-earned personal satisfaction as well.

The best part wasn't the end result (though it is kind of adorable), but an afternoon cheerily spent puzzling it all out together. This pursuit was the very definition of quality family time for our happy family of three. Maisie stayed from start to finish, contentedly squished between her people throughout the construction, occasionally peering up to inspect our work. Less than halfway into the assembly, upon installation of the clock mechanism and pendulum on the back side, we spun the façade back to us. Maisie lifted her head. Her eyes lit. Though we hadn't yet inserted a battery, the turning of the constructed portion sent Santa swinging wildly back and forth, which, to the canine mind, is apparently hilarious. Our baby not only smiled, she sat straight up and broke into precious puppy laughter. Only dog people will understand how irresistibly contagious that is. Try to keep your little wooden cookies down, but I'd be remiss not to mention that a giggle-garnished cuddle-fest ensued. It just goes to show that, even for a girl who's clocked more than ten years already (and her parents who, combined, have clocked more than a century), Old St. Nick--with a tock and a tick--still knows how to bring the magic.

Happy New Year! Let the good times toll...