Day Seventy-Four: Donor List

Bone Marrow Cells:

Potential Medical Miracle

I spent a wonderful weekend perusing the shopping outlets and shopping malls of Massachusetts without the noise and confusion of small male children. It was a welcome break and a much needed rest after a few weeks of plague-like illness sweeping through my house. As I was happily (and a bit guiltily) contemplating whether I should buy a fourth pair of shoes (as the latest pair was fabulous and completely unnecessary, hence the burning need for them) I was distracted by a tall, young attractive woman in a bright blue wig and white lab coat. I noticed out of the corner of my eye that she was standing in front of a large poster that appeared to be advertising a children's medical charity. My curiosity got the best of me, so I stopped. She was there to draw attention to a bone marrow donation drive. I didn't even hesitate. I signed up.

It was no small thing to sign up for a possible medical procedure in the middle of a busy mall at the height of the holiday season. I had to fill out a long form, provide medical insurance information and give four cheek swabs for processing. It felt more than a little weird doing all this in front of Ann Taylor. Still, I can't think of a busier place to seek out the willing. What a powerful, driving combination- holiday cheer and consumer guilt. Someone had their Madison Avenue thinking cap on the day they came up with this idea.

When I relayed the information that I had signed up to be a bone marrow donor to those I was with, I didn't get the reaction I expected. There was more than a bit dismayed concern. "That is soooo painful." "Why would you want to do that?!" The answer is simple. If my child were sick I would hope to God that someone out there was willing to help. I firmly and absolutely believe that you get back what you put out there, so I'm putting a deposit in the cosmic karma safety deposit box and hope for the best. If there is anything I have learned from 74 days of writing about random acts of kindness it is that once you start, you don't want to stop. It gets easier to find things to do that put out this positive flow of energy. Today I happened to find it because of a shiny, loud, bright blue wig, but there will be other ways to find it tomorrow. Maybe these things that need doing will not be made so obvious. I only need to be open to the possibilities. Sure, some things may take some time, some effort and even cause some pain. Tell me if you know of anything that is worthwhile doing that doesn't?

In the meantime, I have no idea if I will ever be called upon to follow through with my impulsive decision. Being added to the donor list doesn't guarantee that I will be a bone marrow match for someone in need. It only assures me and my God that I truly care about the health, pain and quality of life of my fellow human beings. Not a bad day at the mall. Who says that shopping doesn't save lives? This shopping trip might just do that someday. I'll take a bit of satisfaction in that. That and the three pair of shoes that I purchased. No, not a bad day at the mall at all.

Day Seventy-Three: Bah Humbug

I don't know what is the matter with me lately, but I have a bad case of the Bah Humbugs. I'm not sure what the exact problem is, but I know it is linked to this incredibly creepy warm weather. I am a Northern New Englander to the core. I cannot get into the Christmas spirit in weather reminiscent of a Florida vacation in April. Call me crazy, but it looks like this global warming thing is real and its not just the polar bears that are suffering.

I love to write. Since I started writing this blog I feel that a tap has been opened and I am pouring out a great deal of myself onto the screen. Writing to me is like exercise is for workout junkies; I get a rush when I am writing and the endorphin high lasts a few hours after I am done. Because I have been shut in a house with small children for the better part of six years, this intellectual and emotional release is likely the only thing between me and a stay in a ward with funny white coats and lots of forced medication. However, since the Bah Humbugs hit, I have had no desire to write. When one is more than a bit pissy, the urge to share interesting and witty thoughts more than hides, it evaporates entirely.

The irony is that the more I write, the better I feel. The longer I go without writing, the worse I feel. The last two weeks have been sparsely populated with my blogging, so you can only imagine what I've been like around here. It started with feeling sick and has morphed into this long running bad mood. Maybe it is a side effect of the latest plague; one you get over the virus you need to double the dose of antidepressants to get over the hump. I can't image what it is like to rely on writing to make a living or, at the very least, meet a deadline. If the thoughts won't come, then what? I would imagine that the blank screen is a very scary thing to many a writer.

Tomorrow I am off for shopping trip with various girlfriends to whom I am related- sister, sister-in-laws, mother, etc. I am hoping that this will snap me out of this Bah Humbug slump in which I am currently wallowing. If it isn't the company, than I am sure it will be the wine, the shopping and the extra chocolate that I plan to consume. I am grateful that this trip is timed perfectly with family. Friends might not be so forgiving if my mood doesn't improve. My family, for the most part, has already been exposed to it and have lived to tell the tale. In the meantime, please pray for reasonably seasonal weather. The polar bear and I will thank you for it.

Day Seventy-Two: Don't Be A Jerk, It's Christmas

I can't say that I ever thought I find words of wisdom emanating from the television set while SpongeBob Square Pants was airing, but it happened. My boys were cracking up while SpongeBob sang the eternally festive words, "Don't Be A Jerk, It's Christmas." I was cracking up too. I really think that sums it up for a certain type of person. It's Christmas time, so stop being a jerk. At least until January first. Then you can go back to being a jerk. Until then, stop being a jerk by:

Cutting me off at the merge, you know that I have the right of way. You aren't fooling anyone and you only get there 2 seconds faster.

Grumbling at the long lines while you are waiting to pay for your unbelievably sale priced super high definition large screen television at the Black Friday, week after Black Friday, Saturday before Christmas sale. There is no such thing as a free ride.

Rolling your eyes and/or frowing in disgust at my children while they are misbehaving in public. You weren't a prize at that age either.

Leaving a crappy tip. If you didn't want someone to wait on you, go through the McDonalds drive through or stay at home. Otherwise, cough up the 15%.

Pretending you didn't see the Salvation Army Kettle. You don't have to donate, but you can be pleasant. The people ringing the bell are working hard for charity. Smile, say "Hello" or "Merry Christmas" or Santa will put coal in your stocking.

Sending your sick kid to school and/or Day Care. I don't want my kids to get it, I sure as hell don't want it and the staff doesn't consider the latest plague-like virus a Christmas gift.

Re-gifting cheap, crappy gifts. Do you really think we don't know when we get one? Come On. If its the thought that counts, the re-gift counts as a negative ten on your karmic score card.

Playing your car stereo at decibels that can be heard from the moon. I know you don't want to hear my feminist manifesto mix pulsating from my minivan and you know I don't want to hear your profanity filled, misogynistic, cop-hatin' rap from the fourth car behind you waiting at the red light.

Telling me how much you hate my political point of view. I think yours sucks too, but I keep it to myself (well most of the time.) People have fought and died so you can spout your hate mongering. Appreciate that fact in silence then preach to the choir and life will be much more pleasant for a month or so. W.W.J.D.*? Ring a bell?!

Wearing your clothes so tight/skin bearing I can read your gender, tell how many surgeries you have had and where all your tattoos are before I even enter the same room with you. It ain't pretty, sexy or inviting. It is disgusting. Look in a mirror. Please.

Acting like you are better than everyone else. You could have been born in a Calcutta slum, an African village ravaged by AIDs or a Chicago ghetto. You weren't. You won the cosmic lottery. Be grateful, be compassionate and be humble. Otherwise, I assure you that you will get yours in the next life.

Talking trash about your family, friends and neighbors. We don't want to hear it and you don't want to get caught, so just knock it off.

Remember, mean people suck. Especially at Christmas.

*For all you non-Jesus following folks (mostly you, Dad) W.W.J.D. means What Would Jesus Do?.

Day Seventy-One: Santas

Dining Room:

Wooden Santas

I have been collecting Santas since I started living on my own, which is now over twenty years. (Yikes!) I think it started with a gift from my fabulous friend, Julie, but I'm not exactly sure. I do know that since it has become known that I collect Santas, she has scoured the after-Christmas sales for my next year's Christmas gift. It is a tradition that I look forward to every year.

I'm not sure why I started collecting Santas. I suppose I could have collected angels, snowmen, snowflakes, stockings or any other type of holiday decor. It is only the Santa that speaks to me on an emotional level. I love the magic these holiday figures represent. The wonder and anticipation of a childhood Christmas is such a beautiful thing to behold. Santa is all things to children: he is love, giving, magic, surprises, winter and fun all rolled up into one large, warm, red bundle. For me, Santa represents all that is worthwhile during the Christmas season. He gives tirelessly of himself just to see others happy. Not that he is a martyr. He derives a great deal of pleasure from making other's wishes come true. I think it is a beautiful sentiment and one to which the season itself aspires. I am sure that is why I love collecting and displaying Santas every Christmas season.

This displaying of the Santas has become a time honored holiday tradition in my house. The second day after Thanksgiving is the day that the Santas come out. (Black Friday rears its ugly head again. Maybe I should make the day after Thanksgiving Santa day, so I can kick the Black Friday habit once and for all.) This is a long process that takes a great deal of the day. I have to clear off spaces around the house, clean these spaces (and usually the entire room too), pack all the things away, take out the numerous boxes, string lights, unwrap all the Santas and carefully place them around the house. Now that the boys are older, I let them help me. Joshua and Joseph love picking out the perfect spots for the Santas they chose. Jacob joined in this year. He did pretty well, all considering. Only two down and out. Only one on purpose.

This day of all days is when I really feel the Christmas spirit. I am so happy when all the lights are up and the Santas are out. They do a little Christmas magic just by being out and around. When the sun goes down, I love to sit with only the white lights lit on the mantle illuminating all the ceramic and glass Santas. There is a sparkling glow that lights up the whole fireplace. To me, it is even better then when there is a cozy fire lit. It is so nice to find a holiday tradition that is aesthetically pleasing, relaxing and next to no cost. That is a rare commodity these days in this house.

There are many other things that we do as a family to celebrate the season; cutting of a Christmas tree, wrapping gifts, watching Christmas movies, making Christmas cookies, just to name a few. Somehow, this particular task has become my favorite. Find your favorite and share it with those that you love. After all, that is the whole point of this holiday season, don't you think?

Day Seventy: Black Friday

I said I wouldn't do it and I did it anyway. I got up at 6:00 a.m. and went shopping on Black Friday. Granted, I only went to one store, but I totally went back on my word. I went out into the madness. Still, it was quieter than making the kids breakfast.

I went to Toys R Us in the hope of purchasing the toys the boys had on their list for a bit less than I would if I didn't get up at that unGodly hour. Fool's errand! It turns out that the store opened at midnight on Thanksgiving. I have no idea how long they stayed open but they also reopened at 5 a.m. By the time I got there, around 6:30 a.m., there was nothing left on the shelves worth buying. The place looked like a small bomb went off inside. The aisles were in complete shambles. Discarded toys, overflowing carts, random debris/trash and weary shoppers littered the place. Let me repeat, this was 6:30 a.m. The line to check out snaked halfway through the store. The line to get into the electronics section snaked throughout the other half. I was home by 7:30 a.m. I didn't find a thing.

As I was leaving the parking lot, I took stock of the area. The Best Buy lot was overflowing and there were plenty of people leaving with full carts. I noted Best Buy, because on Thanksgiving, I took the boys to the movies. On the way out I saw people in tents camping out at 6:30 in the evening. I tell you, people are NUTS! But it wasn't just that store, all the lots were full. Every store that was open was packed. I have no idea if there were good bargains out there because I wasn't paying attention. I was only focused on the toys on my list. I did stick to my resolve and have not deviated from my carefully prepared Christmas giving list. However, had I been out in the mad frenzy of shoppers, I am sure I would have bought just about everything in sight. I think it is something akin to the lemming theory- whatever the others lemmings are doing....

I have never attempted to take advantage of Black Friday specials for specific items. My past experience has been going to the largest mall I could find and head straight to the shoe department of the largest department store as soon as the doors unlocked. Merry Christmas to ME! I was not really shopping for anything in particular, that is why I spent a small fortune in department store credit. The whole wait in line at Target, Walmart, Toys R Us for the advertised items is quite beyond me. I suppose I am fortunate in that I don't have to wait in these lines because of financial concerns. If it ain't on the shelf and I can't order it online, it ain't gonna get bought. I don't have the time or patience for the sport known as Black Friday shopping. Although if the Coach, Cole Haan or even the Nine West store was to have a Black Friday sale, I would probably be up for waiting in that line...

Moral of this story is, this whole Black Friday thing is a pain in the ass. It may be the time of the year that big retailers are looking to move into the black on their balance sheets, but it nothing more than a huge time waster for the general public. There are better ways to spend the day after Thanksgiving; eating leftovers, going to the movies, playing football in the yard, taking a nap, or just hanging out with the family would all be much better use of our collective time. I simply don't buy the hype that holiday shopping makes or breaks our national economy. I would hope that those in power are a bit more on the ball than that. Next year I am going to stick to my plan and skip Black Friday all together. Do you want to come over for a turkey sandwich and left over pie?

Day Sixty-Nine: Thankful Stream of Conciousness

THANKFUL:

A STREAM OF CONSCIOUSNESS

I am thankful (in no particular order or preference) that:

My overdraft account is active therefore I don't have to ask my parents for money at the age of 41;

That my husband hasn't yet divorced me because of the existence of said overdraft account;

Sitting on the floor of my closet gazing at all the pairs of my designer shoes still makes me happy even though I can't wear most of them without debilitating pain;

Some of my closest friends moved to California giving me a perfect excuse to go on a solo vacation for several days every few years;

There is one morning every week I can take a nap because all of my kids are out of the house;

My sister-in-law is having a baby right now and not me (not now, not ever again!);

Wine is medicinal;

Only one more diaper clad butt to go;

Hair dye is cheap;

David Sedaris, Erma Bombeck, Denis Leary and Vicky Iovine are published authors because it gives me hope;

My family is only one hour away and that my family is one hour away;

My kids still go to bed by 8:30, which means I get 15 seconds alone with my husband every night before crashing like timber;

Pizza can arrive at my house in 30 minutes or less, the slices can be eaten on napkins and the box it came in is recyclable;

I can afford good chocolate and a good therapist;

My best friend's numbers are on my cell's speed dial after leaving the therapist's office/shopping mall/bakery;

Someone invented Spanx, the Wonderbra and long wearing makeup;

My husband still thinks I'm hot after a bad night's sleep, morning breath and a week's worth of leg shaving neglect so I don't really need to buy all the above mentioned crap;

My neighbors are far enough away so they don't hear me yelling at the kids, or at least they are far enough away that the actual words are unintelligible;

I'm finally old enough not to give a damn who sees me cry during the latest chick flick/sitcom/baby commercial;

My mother-in-law is nothing like my mother's mother-in-law;

I married into a huge Irish, Catholic family and everyone is still nice to me even though I can't remember all the names after 12 years;

Meryl Streep is still making movies while Pamela Anderson is not.

Sarcasm is mistaken for wit and intelligence instead of recognized as the purest form of obnoxiousness that it is;

My eyesight is still good enough to see every chin hair that needs to be plucked (God forbid the day comes when I can't...a definite Glamour Don't)

Weight Watchers makes ice cream bars (although I don't think the idea is that I should eat more than 2 or 3 at a time...)

Diet Coke is legal;

There are people out there that knew when I wore both braces and prairie skirts and, despite that, that they still talk to me;

School is mandatory for children ages 6 to 16 years of age and I don't believe in home schooling;

I am simultaneously agnostic, Christian and Jewish at this time of the year;

Chocolate chip cookie dough is an effective antidote to stress;

My sister still likes me even after the lunch money incident of 1984;

The Nanny is in reruns on Nick-at-Nite (God bless that Jewish Goddess of hair, nails & designer shoes!);

iPods are portable so I can sing my lungs out whenever the mood strikes me while rendering me deaf to my own voice by the use of the very fancy Bose earbuds I use with it;

That I still want to go to Paris with my husband alone, to the exclusion of all others (sorry, Will Smith, Michael Jordan and the 80s version of Mel Gibson);

I'm not too old to go to rock concerts and (sorry, boys) I don't think I ever will be; and that

I am only marginally insane after 41 years, two degrees, no job, 4 kids, 1 dog and a minivan.

May you be thankful for all the special people, places and things in your life.

Happy Thanksgiving.

Day Sixty-Eight: The PJ Project

Jacob: PJ Ninja!

Joshua: Ham in Jammies

Joey & Jack: Fighting PJ's or Cuddly PJ's-

You Decide

I read Glamour magazine every month and have since I was old enough to buy it myself. Think what you will, but I think it is a really good magazine. Where else can a self professed feminist and shoe-a-holic read about inspirational Women of the Year and the equally inspirational latest Jimmy Choo high-heeled, python, open toe, bootie in the same magazine? Exactly. This month, there was an interesting article entitled "31 Days of Giving." This focus on this article was giving without spending much or nothing at all. It featured a December calender with an idea for giving imprinted on each day. The first day was about donating money to a web site dedicated to buying sleepwear for children who are staying in shelters. Hmmmm...

At the time, I was just in the attic looking for cold weather pajamas for the boys. I had a bin full of various sizes and there were some that no longer fit anyone. I thought it would be a great idea to get together what we could not use and donate them to our local battered women's shelter. I really didn't have more than 2 pair, so I solicited the help of my neighbors and friends. Instead of a monetary donation, this would be an easy, cost free way to give to those in need.

I immediately thought of the shelter, A Safe Place, because the most fulfilling job I had utilizing my law degree was running a Domestic Violence Prosecution Unit. Very often, when I tell people this, I get some strange reactions. Most people cannot fathom why anyone would want to do that type of work. I found it to be directly responsive to my needs to be in a court room, do feminist related work and serve the public interest. For me, putting batters in jail was a great way to earn a living.

When a woman brings her children to a shelter, very often it is because of a full blown crisis. These people leave with, literally, the clothes on their back. Finding their way to a shelter means that they often need to sleep in their clothes until further assistance can be found. I can't imagine the terror, the embarrassment and the desperation that drives women to seek help at a shelter, but I do know it is very easy to help. If my PJ Project helps one child feel a little more comfortable in a very scary and uncomfortable situation, then I have done something worthwhile. It didn't even cost me anything, just the time to pull it together and the will to care about people who need a bit of extra caring.

If you think you can help me with this project, it would be very much appreciated. Simply email me (see my Facebook Badge to the right of this posting) and I'll be happy to handle the logistics. If you are so inclined, find a local shelter in your area. Call them up and see what they need. You would be surprised how easy it is to find and recycle items around your neighborhood that could be put to good use. It's a great way to save the environment, save money in your wallet and get into the true holiday spirit. Remember the words of Mother Theresa, "We can do no great things; only small things with great love." Cheers to the PJ Project and any other great, small ideas you may have.