To friendship, and Kelly Corrigan, who said it for all of us

My dear friend Sam sent me this link, and reminded me once again why I always miss her so much.  She's funny and she's kind and she's smart, and she likes me back.  What more can you ask?  Alas, miles and miles separate us now, except for those weekends we jet off and meet up to bask in the warmth of South Beach.  Or the rare occasions when we both end up on Nantucket, kids in tow, all of us descending on our friend Debbie's house, because she dared to live in such a wonderland.  Or the times we plan a trip, because we've reached a certain age, and allow our husbands to come along for once.  These times come sporadically now and perhaps because of that I treasure them even more.  But whether it's been three months or twelve, what I know is this:  I can't wait to laugh and share with Sam again.

For those of you who haven't seen it, take a minute for yourself and your girlfriends, or perhaps to better understand your wife and her girlfriends, and listen to Kelly Corrigan's Words on Women and Strength.  (Ms. Corrigan is also the author of The Middle Place.)

Three cheers for friendship.  Let's all tend to ours in 2009.

How to Have A Peaceful Holiday

The thing is, life’s all about expectations.  I’ve found this to be true, regardless of the situation.

Example:  Sibling relationships

• Expect top notch.  Get bottom rung. Disappointed.
• Expect little, other than love.  Receive a smidge more. Connected and content.

What a difference an expectation levels makes!

This idea rings true for the holiday season as well.  As Christmas approaches, I watch the frenzy around me and sometimes wonder why we get so caught up in the rush.  I know, of course, that there is more to do than time allows.  If that weren’t true, the Christmas cards I ordered in October wouldn’t still be sitting on my desk.  I wouldn’t have been making the hard tack candy to give to teachers early in the afternoon on the very day I needed to give it to them.  I would’ve baked those cut-out cookies by now.  Needless to say, I’m not exempt from holiday to-do lists, chock full of things I haven’t gotten to yet.

The difference is that this year I don’t feel a bit of stress about it.  This hasn’t always been the case; high stress has been the hallmark of many previous holidays.  This year, however, something changed.  Instead of expecting perfection, I just expected my best—and the two are far from the same.  Allowing myself that bit of space created a sense of peace I didn’t expect.  Bonus peace!  Sure, I wish my cards were in the mail.  But the point of the cards is to connect with friends, and I’ve realized that will happen regardless of the day they’re stamped by the post office.

Shopping is another thing that was easier this year.  In a complete score, I lucked out and was able to do my black Friday shopping on Thanksgiving night, sitting there in my cozy pajamas with a glass of wine in my hand.  A late night e-mail from Amazon advertised the camera I’d had my eye on—the only big thing on my black Friday list—on sale for $50 less than any of the ads I’d seen.  SOLD.  I slept in, avoided the masses at the stores, and headed for the local tree-lighting ceremony that evening, complete with a visit from Santa and free hot cider.  Stress-free, I tell ya.

The other difference this year is that, somewhere along the line, I became truly thankful.  I always thought I was, but I guess this year my thankfulness grew up.  In appreciating where I am, and not focusing on where else I could be (or what else I could be getting done), I have inadvertently released myself from some of the traditional holiday mayhem.  And why, you ask, am I so darn thankful?

Probably for many of the same reasons you are.  I am grateful to the core of my being for my warm home.  I am elated that my children are healthy.  I love that they’re learning to make good choices.  My children’s teachers show up day after day and nurture them, and teach them, and guide them when I’m not around.  I’m eternally grateful for them.  Hunger is just a word around here.  When my kids complain that they’re hungry, I’m thankful that they have never known how it feels to be truly hungry.  I’m thankful that my world doesn’t involve making a choice between feeding them or buying them winter boots.  I’m thankful for my husband, my friends, my family, my faith.  And I’m here to tell you, there’s nothing stressful about that.

This post was written for Parent Blogger Network's blog blast, which is sponsored this time by FFDA, a non-profit organization that offers support and assistance for folks who are feeling overwhelmed, both at the holidays and all year long.

Butter or Margarine?

All those many years ago when I first met my girlfriend Janet, she was already a bona fide baker.  I was still more of a baker-in-the-making.  These days, I bake a mean apple pie, but back then I was still one of those people who used margarine in my cookies.  Not to worry.   Janet set me straight on the finer points of using butter and, not wanting to produce inferior cookies, I ponied up the cash and starting baking with the real stuff.

Fast forward almost ten years and I read Michael Pollen’s In Defense of Food, which convinced me, thoroughly, of the horrors of margarine.  Although I’m generally not one to hop on anybody’s bandwagon, his arguments rang true to me and I jumped aboard.  While I admit to still buying diet pepsi (I know!), and the occasional goldfish, it’s more because 1) I’m weak and 2) I’m weak.  I still think he’s right.

So yesterday, when I read Julia Moskin’s column in the NY Times, singing the praises of butter in cookies, I expected some sort of nod to Pollen.  But no.  The article is clearly a baking aficionado’s perspective; not even close to a health nut’s reasoning.  It’s all about how your cookies won’t hold their shape if you dare use margarine, or even, heaven forbid, if you use butter that’s been incorrectly melted or creamed.  As if!  Please know that if you ever deign to eat my cookies, I have probably melted the butter incorrectly.  There’s also a really good chance I didn’t cream it long enough, either.  However, you can still consider yourself lucky that you’re only getting fatter because I used butter and not dying because I used margarine.  I mean, that’s a pretty big gift right there.  Please don’t expect the shape of my cookies to be just so or to receive them in a fancy bag with a ribbon on top.  I am busy people.  I could be handing out Oreos (speaking of non-food).

Nonetheless, I laughed out loud at the comment of Robin Olsen, who runs cookie-exchange.com and is quoted at the end of Moskin’s piece.  Olsen’s thoughts:  “I can tell a margarine cookie as soon as I bite into it.  And then I put it right down.”

Well just tell it like it is, Ms. Olsen!  I love that.  But I won’t send you any cookies.  Too risky.

As for the rest of you, I hope you enjoy whatever it is you’re baking this Christmas!

Faithful Ol' Boy

And How About the Ornaments?

The very first Christmas after we were married, I wandered around the old Seattle Bon Marche (RIP) eyeing the beautifully decorated trees with wonder.  The whole "theme" thing was a new concept for me.  All silver!  All red and green!  Or crimson, with gold!  

Growing up, our tree was filled with decorations my mom loved, some made by my brother or me at school, others gathered with love over the years.  I still remember (and she still hangs) that angel I made and painted so very carefully, with its bright yellow hair.  Our only theme was "ornaments;" there was no "pretty" tree in the living room with a separate "kid tree" out back.  And until I saw those marvels at the Bon Marche, I never thought a thing about it.

But then, then I started to wonder.  What kind of tree would we have after kids arrived?  Would we hang their carefully made ornaments on a special tree just for them.  Maybe, I thought.  Just maybe we would.  I sort of liked the idea.

But then, as the years rolled by, I realized that every single ornament we hang holds a special memory for me. 

There's this one, given to us by our friends Harry and Kim, shortly before they were married.  Harry and Greg were 2nd lieutenants in the Army together,  and roommates back in the day.  Every year when I hang this ornament I think of them, and of the many laughs we shared.  Even typing this makes me smile, as the memories come flooding back.

And this one, given to me by my boss at one of my favorite employers, also in the Seattle days.  His wife chose it, I'm sure, but I treasure it nonetheless.  When I hang this ornament it takes me back to that life, that time, and for a few moments I get to revel in days long past.

Then there's this one.  After Seattle we spent some time (sounds like a jail term, doesn't it?), in Wisconsin.  And though I didn't anticipate it, some wonderful things came out of those years.  Two boys in 2 1/2 years, a Packer SuperBowl win, and a friendship that has stood the test of time and trials.  This beautiful ornament was given to us, to our son actually, by our friends Chris and Holly, two of the dearest souls around.  I'm certain it's no coincidence that the four of us moved to WI at the same time.  It was just meant to be.

For as long as I can remember, my grandparents gave me a Hallmark ornament at Christmas.  Somewhere along the way my grandmother decided to give me ornaments that create a little village, and we set these down by the train now - the firehouse and the bake shoppe and all of the fun Victorian homes.  But before those years, I got an array of beauties, and this has long been one of my favorites.  Most of our Christmases were spent in my grandparents small, warm living room, and that scene lives on in my mind, and heart.  I see it every time I hang this bell.

My mother has picked up where my grandmother left off, and gives my children ornaments every year.  So far, I think she's made every one of them.  (No, sadly I did not get that gene.)  This is one of my favorites for many reasons, patriotism not the least of them.  My life, and hers, were shaped by my father's service to our country. This ornament represents so many things:  service, family, love, tradition, sacrifice.  

And, finally, there are the bows.  The boys have taken over most of the ornament hanging, with a few small cluster corrections here and there.  But my job is always to finish with the bows.  My first Christmas after college I was living in San Francisco.  No snow, no family, just me and my Jewish roommate, Sara.  Sara wasn't at all opposed to having a Christmas tree in our apartment, so I hiked down to a corner lot & dragged one up.  My dear aunt came to visit, all the way from the east coast, and couldn't help but notice that my 20 or so ornaments from grandma didn't exactly fill the tree.   She went out and bought some red velvet ribbon, and hand-tied these little bows for my tree.  I saved them that year, and the next, and now my boys can't imagine our tree without them.  And I can't either.

And so, the crimson-and-gold themed tree is relic of the past, an image in my mind to remember from those early days.  Now I see those fancy trees in the stores and they make me a little bit sad, because there's no feeling to them, no family, no love.  And at Christmastime, I think we need a little of all of those.

A Closer Peek at the Tree

The boys have taken over most of the ornament hanging.

With a few minor adjustments here and there.

And when they're all finished...

Ta-da!

The angel was one of two: my grandmother had one; I think her sister had the other.  Somehow I got lucky enough to have one of them and it graces the top of our tree every year.  In all of my years, I've never seen one I like better.  For a sixty-year old, she looks pretty darn good, don't you think?!

The Hunt for the Tree is On...

...and, yes, the dog came along.

Almost Wordless Wednesday!

Pictionary or Charades?

Family gatherings at my parents’ house generally go something like this:

My husband:  Hey, let’s get a movie tonight.

Me:  Yeah, that would be great.  I'll help you pick one.

Mom:  Sounds like a good idea.  Let’s get something funny.  With Meg Ryan.

Dad:  Or we could get that new thriller that was just released.  With Daniel Craig.

Brother:  Yeah, I might go out with my friends.

Tension builds

Me:  Or, we could play a game?

Reluctantly, Everyone:  Sure, we could do that.

The games of choice at my parents’ house are homemade Pictionary and homemade Charades, which are basically the same game except in one of them you get to draw.  These sound harmless, I know, but the competitive gene runs deep.  I didn’t just happen to be a kid who loved to win.  I mean, I got it from somewhere.  Therefore, if my 12-year old doesn’t act out “Mission Impossible” with dexterity and finesse, my dad is likely to, um, well, let’s just say he can get a bit peeved. 

And, as you can imagine, my mother does not appreciate the finer points of his competitive spirit.  “He’s a child!” she’s likely to chide.  To which, always, my dad will pretend that he was only trying to help, he wasn’t frustrated, angry, disgusted, or any such thing.  How could we even think that?!  (The nerve.)

My brother hangs out in the background, participating at a low enough level to also text his friends and keep up with the ball game on TV, which my mom didn’t want on in the first place.  The added intrusion of texting adds a lovely patina of thinly veiled anger to the evening.  Throw in an actual call to his cell and things get very interesting.

All this goes round and round, holiday after holiday, year after year, and in our own strange way we look forward to it, games and all.  We consume calories we shouldn’t, laugh for most of it, endure the tension-filled moments, and try to reconnect with people we truly love.  And it should be this way, right?  Because there’s always the possibility it will be different this time.  Like this year, maybe, just maybe, I’ll win at Charades.  And for that I will be very thankful.

This post was written for Parent Bloggers Network's blog blast.  This week it's sponsored by Electronic Arts, & they're giving away fun, family-focused video games just in time to ease the tension at the upcoming holiday gatherings.

MckMama's Rebel for A Cause Raffle: Chip in!

If there's one thing you know, it's that I love a prize, right?  And what's better than winning a prize AND helping others?

MckMama over at my charming kids is having just such a contest.  And if you (or I) win, beneath the tree this year you'll (or I'll) find a brand-spankin' new Canon Digital Rebel XSi.  Oh yes she is!  Can you believe it?

The contest has already begun and ends at 11:59 Central Standard Time on 12/14/2008.  Still plenty of time to chip in to help raise money for three terrific charities (String of Pearls, Elison Project, and No Hands But Ours) and for a chance to win her fabulous MckRebel Prize Package.

You can even win if you DON'T have a blog or buy raffle tickets for others for Christmas gifts.  How cool is that?  Click on over to MckMama's blog for all the details.

And good luck to you (or me)!

No, No, I Said "Acorn," not "Akon"

So we headed north to our cottage last weekend, basically to make sure it was still standing.  It is.  That's always a plus, when we come around the corner and, whew!, it's right there, just where we left it.

We turned up the heat, hung some new prints, and relaxed for awhile.  Then we headed to the old basement to drag out some tools.  This is the kind of scary crawl space you'll find in our basement:

But you'll find some other, cooler, things, too.  Like this old newspaper from 1923, used to insulate one of the workroom doors.  Interestingly, the lead article is. "Making Your Money Earn More Money."  This is followed by an ad for "Our Greatest Annual Clearance Sale of Winter."  The more things change...right?   

Or you could find this one lonely acorn, sitting all by itself in the middle of the back workroom floor.  And you might wonder how on earth it got there, and where the animal that dropped it is hiding now.  At least that's what I was wondering.  And, yes, I got out of there as quickly as I could.  I have many attributes, friends, but exploring a scary basement with bravery is not one of them, especially when a critter is likely to jump out and attack me at any moment.

Thankfully, the upstairs appeared to be critter-free.  But why our lab kept sniffing up that chimney is a question I refuse to ponder.

Happy December everyone!

(Please note that all photos were taken with my cell phone.  Hopefully my new phone will arrive today, and I will take some pictures and tell you all about it!)

Winter Has Arrived

Pop on over to Midwest Parents today, where I'm the contributing writer, to see how we're welcoming winter.

And how about you?  What are your favorite and least favorite things about this cold season that's upon us?  Any tried and true tips for keeping kids happy (busy) in the snowy tundra?

I'm off to enjoy the rest of our snow day.  Cheers!

What? Thanksgiving is THIS Week?

Here's what I've been doing:

• frantically putting pages into the family scrapbook from last February, so I don't hit the "year behind" mark in a couple of months
  
• shopping for other families for Christmas
• taking my kids to swim lessons
• taking my kids to piano lessons
• sending my kids outside to play in the snow because they are much to crazy to be inside

Here's what I haven't been doing:

• planning the Thanksgiving meal I'll be making beginning tomorrow
• washing the sheets for my visitors' beds (yep, arriving tomorrow)
• cleaning the house
• cleaning the car
• shopping for my own family for Christmas
• blogging

I'm having nervous withdrawal twitches from being mostly offline for a couple of days.  When your kids have an entire week off for Thanksgiving, it can throw you for a loop, let me tell ya.

Still, I know my mom will want clean sheets.  Better get busy.  Hope she'll be thankful.