The New Year

Through the many that we've known each other, my husband and I have celebrated in myriad ways.

There were the those years, closer to the dark ages, when we attended some sort of fancy dinner and dance and rang in the New Year with a swig of champagne and a smoldering kiss.  Please don't dwell on the dress. I borrowed it from a friend and, at the time, thought it looked swell.  Not really sure how it stayed up.

Other years, we've celebrated with friends.  On this particular occasion, we got together with friends from our church.  You know we were a rockin' crowd.  I think board games were involved.  (Still friends with all of them.  Must've been good board games!)

But the last two years, we've celebrated with my mother, father, and still-eligible younger brother.  Because, you know, nothing says New Year's Eve like hanging out with the family.  And playing homemade Pictionary.

Yep, ladies, he's still available.  If you are looking for a fine young man who works a lot, golfs a lot, and is willing to play Pictionary with his nephews on NYE, he could be yours!

They got it!! 

Even though it wasn't a crazy night out on the town, things did get a little crazy on my parents deck.  I think the neighbors especially appreciated the banging of the pan lids.  It's a lovely family tradition that I'm sure we'll carry on through the ages.  My grandchildren, no doubt, will think it's a thing all normal families do on New Year's Eve.  God bless 'em.

Happy 2009.  Here's to nights on the town, nights with family and friends, and boys who haven't yet ditched us for their friends on this night.

Happy New Year to Me OR Teach Your Kids To Do The Laundry

  

Washing Machine

1. Choose load size: small, medium, large or extra large.
2. Turn temperature to warm/cold.
3. Options: off/off
4. Choose agitate/spin Fabric Select:
• For loads with towels or jeans: high/high
• For loads with t-shirts, socks, shirts or boxers: high/low
5. Push round knob in. Turn to Normal (6 for smaller loads, 10 for bigger or dirtier loads). Pull knob out and water will start.
6. Add detergent to water. Low line for small loads, higher line for bigger loads.
7. Add clothes to water.
8. Close lid.


Dryer

1. Choose temperature.
• Loads with t-shirts, shirts, boxers, and socks: Medium
• Loads with towels or jeans: High
2. Wrinkle Shield: Off
3. End of Cycle: On (makes it buzz when it’s done)
4. Turn round knob to:
• Accudry Very Dry for loads with towels and jeans.
• Accudry Energy Preferred: for loads with t-shirts, boxers, regular shirts or socks.
5. Press On button (far right).


Why, oh why, you may wonder, am I typing up something I've already known for a bazillion years. And in such simplified terms. With so few options. Why, indeed?!

Because, my friends, it is a new year, and with a new year comes the wind of change. In this year, my 12-year old will make his own lunch, at least a few times a week, finally learn to hang his coat on the hook, and chip in by starting a load of laundry every now and then. With these few helpful hints, neatly  laminated and hanging in the laundry room, he'll no longer "forget how" to do it. It will be oh so clear.  So very kind of me, don't you think?

Now that's what I call a Happy New Year.

Universal Wireless for All

When I was in college, I had what you might call a Diet Pepsi & Mountain Dew habit. But then I spent a sememster in Austria, where Diet Pepsi was made with saccharin, which made me nauseous. After enduring the knife-splitting headaches of withdrawal, I swore off addiction once and for all.

And then came blogging. No, I'm not stocking up on Advil again, but I haven't had much access to Mayberry or mamabird or the rest of you, and it's making me a teensy bit antsy. Okay, maybe "antsy" isn't how the others would describe it, but seriously, it's making me nuts.

I'd like to do a real post here, something about New Year's and goals or resolutions or lofty aspirations. But since I'm totally stealing my dad's laptop and sneaking in a few forbidden moments to myself, I don't have time right now. Instead, I simply want to wish all of you a happy and healthy 2009. And dream of universal access to wireless for everyone!

Have I...?

forgotten that I have a blog and bloggy friends? No.

driven through an ice storm that turned a 10 hour trip into 12? Yes.

been up to my eyeballs in extended family fun? Oh yes!

had access to wireless? Not even close.

wondered how people survive without wireless? Several times an hour.

ever posted from my iPhone before? Nope. A first time for everything.

And, hopefully, the last. Perhaps we'll get them wireless for Mother's Day!

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.