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.

Day Sixty-Seven: The Ballad of "Blue" Jeans

Okay. I admit it. I was suffering from "muffin top." You know, that bulging mound of flesh that pops over the top of pants that just don't fit. This was particularly distressing because the pants in question are the four pairs of jeans I purchased after spending a year of my life on Weight Watchers and getting into a size that I never dreamed possible. Did they shrink? Of course not. I think it had more to do with the fact that I haven't exercised since I tore through the woods looking for a lost 3 year old and my favorite breakfast food has become anything containing chocolate chips. Go figure.

As luck would have it, I caught a nasty case of the flu earlier this week and have dropped a magical 4 pounds.* It took 2 months of Weight Watchers to do that in a past life. It seems that I have not gained a large amount of weight over the course of this past year (9 pounds to be exact), but it has all settled in the spot where I carried four growing fetuses. Apparently, once you carve out a large cavern in your midsection, all things migrate back to fill the now empty expanse. Now I have only 5 pounds to go. Translation: I either need one more bout of the flu or about 10 years on Weight Watchers. I will say, the jeans fit better, but still not good enough to wear with anything but a large over sized tent as a top to cover that dreaded muffin top.

Since I have not been able to do anything except sit, lay or curl in a fetal position, I took this as an opportunity to catch up on my tivo. Of course, that means lots of Oprah. (What am I going to do with my sick time when she goes off the air?!) I watched a particularly good episode entitled "Oprah, Make Over My Man." I almost deleted it. After all, how many rednecks, pot heads and 80s rockers can be made over before it all gets a bit repetitive. I watched it only because my favorite men of fashion were featured; Tim Gunn of Project Runway and Carson Kressley of Queer Eye for the Straight Guy. (I miss that show). They both have impeccable taste; all quality, no fads and clean, simple silhouettes. Classic. Love It! As I was laughing my butt off watching Carson chase down badly dressed men walking the streets of Chicago, I actually learned something. Carson showed us that men have "Dad Jeans" just like women have "Mom Jeans." Bad jeans. Ugh. What I didn't know that the universally flattering jean is 1.) classic cut, 2.)mid-rise & 3.) dark wash. This goes for men as well as women. What?! You mean I shouldn't be trying to squeeze back into my low rise, thong-bearing (if I wore a thong that is), stone washed designer jeans? Epiphany!!!!

The next time I was able to drag my weak, but skinnier butt to the mall, I went on a mission. I would find a pair of flattering jeans! I did. It took 37 pairs of jeans, 2 hours and about a pound of sweat, but I found them. Guess what, Carson was right. I purchased a pair of dark washed, classic boot leg, mid-rise jeans that didn't give me muffin top, a peak at my butt when I bent over and the ability to wear a tee-shirt again without embarrassment. I was so happy, I was willing to spend what ever was on the price tag- well, up to $100. Yes, $100 for a pair of jeans. Actual Cost: $29.99 at Macy's. The best fitting pair of jeans were the Macy's label, Style & Co. Not Donna Karan, Calvin Klein, Ralph Lauren or even Levi's . I didn't find them at Gap, Nordstroms (Not Your Daughter's Jeans for $120.) or Ann Taylor. I tried. I tried to spend too much. But, it turns out, that great fashion advice is timeless and budget friendly. Stick to the 3s when looking for jeans. Don't worry about the size, price, label or fads and try on every pair until you can't stand it one minute more. It works.

I look good in jeans again. Thank you Carson, Oprah and Macys. Now, could you please pass the pumpkin pie...

* As you may recall, my favorite movie line is from The Devil Wears Prada, "I'm just one stomach flu away from my perfect size."

Day Sixty-Six: Sick Days, Again

H1N1 has done its deed at the Harrington house this week. One after the other, we all dropped like flies. It started with the youngest and has progressed through us all, sparing Jack in its wake. As I predicted, once the kids all recovered, I got it and am down for the count. Of course, this virus is sneaky, so it waited until the right moment to rear its ugly head. Once all kids, flu free, were sent off to their cousin's house for the night, I started hacking and sniffling the entire drive home. I wearily looked at my husband in a fever induce delirium and croaked, "But we have to have sex, there are no kids in the house!" I'm sure I was looking hot, and not in a good way.

So far, this pandemic has not lived up to all the media hype. All that I have experienced is 24 to 36 hours of flu symptoms and then all is again right with the world. Of course, I am blessed that none of my children have chronic illnesses or weakened immune systems, so this strain was easy on us. I am also internet savvy enough to know how to look up information when the media started bombarding us with doom and gloom stories about this illness. I was speaking to my sister-in-law, who is a pediatric nurse, and she has spent the better part of a month simply peeling parents off the ceiling when their children come down with a cough. It really is crazy that the fear factor has been the story and not the virus itself. Ratings beget sponsors which beget money which is the root of all evil. This media storm is just one small example of how true that cliche really is.

I'm now going to crawl back into bed, as I have been up for a whole hour and I am now exhausted again. The house is so eerily quiet that I'm not sure that I will be able to sleep. It will be a mere five or six hours and the house will once again be ringing with full throttle chaos. I will happily lie awake in the silence, if need be. For now, it looks as though we are out of the illness woods and facing the craziness of the holiday season. I hope we are able to enjoy it without more bed rest and Motrin. I wish the same luck for you and your family.

UPDATE: Yes, Jack got it as soon as I picked them up today. I can be thankful that he got it over with before Thanksgiving. I will say that this is the first virus that has attacked each and every one of us. A bit unusual, but so far, nothing we can't handle.