Happy New Year!

Sometimes life is so sweet.

Not computer literate. Oh, and some other stuff.

I am paranoid, so I am constantly inventing more and more elaborate passwords for each and every account. And then I forget them and can't login to anything. 

I have been attempting to attach a counter to my blog, but I just can't figure it out. I have been  constantly going to every blog I read that has a counter and going to the sites that support their counters and trying to figure it out, but the instructions are a big 'ol overwhelming jumble to me and I just cannot do it. So, I guess I give up. Obviously other people know how to make their computers work. I have a hard time importing songs off of CDs. I should just be grateful that I can even turn on a computer. And that no one is pressuring me to buy an i-phone. Because they scare me. Seriously. There's one in our house and it can turn off the computer all by itself. That is just not right. I feel like HAL is going to lock us in and kill us all with the various electronic equipment we own. Death by electric mixer. No thank-you. That's why I use a whisk. I unplug everything that's not in use to save energy, but maybe it will also help if there ever is a battle against the i-phone and its desire for dominance. I sure hope the dog is on our side. I'd like to think she is, but you never really know with dogs, do you? They act like they love you and that they are loyal to the pack, but it could just be because  they don't have opposable thumbs and therefore can't open the pantry and dole out their own food. Maybe they are just waiting for the chance to break out and be the alpha of their own pack and create a world in which they don't have to pee outside in the freezing rain (even though their humans may already be so well-trained that they follow them holding an umbrella over their dog heads).

There was a hawk sitting on our deck yesterday. Our dog better not try and betray us when there's a hawk around.

You know what is gross? Soggy cereal. 

I need to go dig out our snow pants.

Blessings

Christmas Eve seems a good time to reflect on all the blessings of a wonderful year... how very fortunate we are...how amazingly quick time passes as an adult and how slowly it seemed to drag as a child and teenager....It seems rather mind-boggling that so many joyous events could have taken place in the time span of one year. 

My family. I love them so. So much to celebrate. Two engagements...five birthdays...to have the privilege of  being married to my best friend and favorite adult human. To celebrate our life together, to help one another over the fallen branches,to watch with him as our son learned to swim, to slide down a pole, to ride a bike, to spell and add and write, to play soccer, land a cartwheel and flip upside down on the swing set and speak other languages with a perfect accent and made-up his seemingly endless repertoire of knock-knock jokes...

My friends. They complete a part of me I didn't know was missing. They gift me with  laughter, support,camaraderie,  friendship. They have changed the world as I knew it.

The outcome of this year's election. Hope is upon our nation at long last.

Traveling. Being immersed in the society of another country has made me realize what I am missing from my own.

My job. Being paid to do something I love.

Our health. So easy to take it for granted, but I try to celebrate every moment I recall that I am able to bend over and pick-up something off of the floor, that I am able to walk without pain, that my loved ones are not ill or suffering.

So many tiny miracles. Isn't it fantastic that you can plant a seed and it will grow into a plant from which your family will be fed?

 

How grateful I am for this one precious life. I hope only to prove myself worthy of this unbelievable gift.

It's the most wonderful time of the year...well, some years it is.

This has been the loveliest of Christmas seasons. I have to say that I think it may be the lack of presents this year. There just wasn't that pressure to find 9 or 10 perfect items for a dozen different people. There wasn't the endless wrapping, trying to come up with new ideas for said wrapping so that the gift presentation would be even more original and enticing than the previous year. No trying to get that one big gift to knock Mort's socks off before he loses interest in it before the New Year hits. Instead, he's getting four smallish gifts that he's been dropping subtle hints about for months:

Mort: Mommy, can I tell you something?

Me: Sure, sweets. Go ahead.

Mort: I really really really wish I had a Ben 10 watch.

Me: Mmm. Don't forget to finish your carrots.

Mort: What's 6 + 6 + 6 + 6 + 6 + 6 + 2?

Me: I have no idea.

Mort: Now is later. Can I have a snack?

Instead of doing the mad dash of Christmas, we've had a slew of parties and celebratory outings and functions where we've made food and just enjoyed the company of our friends and family. It's been fantastic.

And one of my friends is getting a puppy on the 27th! Very few things in this world smell better than a puppy.

And the television hasn't been turned on for two days. Instead, we've just been reading and listening to music and using a hole puncher on miscellaneous pieces of paper.

And I splurged and finally bought pots and pans that won't kill us with their nonstick coating and/or aren't leftover from Mike's college days. We were down to one pan. Positively un-American.

And we received a new documentary in amongst the Christmas cards today.

And Mort and I came up with a new dance for the Charlie Brown music in the grocery store today. Not one person gave us a dirty look, either. See, it is a lovely time of year.

The Christmas Pagent

On one hand, I'm glad that my child is comfortable in his own skin. On the other hand, he may be getting a little big for his britches. I plan on starting the new year with a chat to his teacher and finding out just how often she has to speak to him about his behavior. Because she had to shush him twice during the Christmas program. And I had to silence him with the patented Mom glare that one is uploaded with upon giving birth because as he stood with his little group to say his line, the boy before him forgot his words and my son dramatically smacked his own head and said, "Oh man!" Last year I would go so far as to say my son was the teacher's favorite. This year, not so much.

He also was spoken to for being too noisy at gymnastics.

Is he becoming that kid? Are we failing? Or is it a combination of too little sleep, too much Christmas activity and back-to-back ear infections and antibiotics? (Please let it be the latter. Thank-you.) 

Ugh. Kids. A constant source of worry.

I am psyched(excuse me as I perpetually live in the 90s) to see the extended family today at the Family Christmas. 

I can't write today. I'm too tired.

Success and failure

Burt's Baby Bees hair and bodywash and Tom's of Maine bodywash. It is almost a burden to be informed. I guess ignorance is bliss. I liked buying whatever smelled good instead of whatever was safest. Now the true test will be if my skin can take it. Unfortunately, I have ridiculously sensitive skin and have been allergic to almost every organic or "natural" skin care product I've ever tried. Yes, it seems crazy, but I am allergic to all that is grows wild and free in nature so it only makes sense that if I rub it on my skin, my skin is going to freak out.

Santa paid a visit to Mort's school today. Mort informed me that Santa wasn't like the other Santa he saw in that his face and voice were very different. This Santa also didn't know what a Ben 10 Watch was. Should Santa admit ignorance when a child requests a certain toy? Especially when some children are already very suspicious of Santa's existence? I chose poorly in preschools. I didn't know that until this year. And now it's too late. Sigh.

Wednesday

So. Tomorrow I have my first appointment with my hair dresser since she "over saturated" the color and turned it black. Why would I pay good money to return to the scene of the crime?

 Because I just don't know what else to do. So many things have been done to my hair that I feel incapable of coloring it myself at this point because every time I try it goes black. And then I have to strip it again. And my roots are bad. When my hair was blond, I guess I didn't realize just how white I am because it blended. Now that my hair is auburn...it's a sobering  aging experience. So, we shall see what can be done.

And speaking of hair, we have reached the point once again where the little man is between getting a haircut or letting it grow. He wants it long. But it's thick and wavy and takes forever to dry,especially as it's winter, so I can't allow it to air dry for fear of him getting a cold. (I never bought into that, but since that British study was released...although they think Victoria Beckham is a beautiful style-maven, so what do they know?) But he does have great hair and it's so cute when it's long.

Between the sick kid, the noisy dog and the freaking owl...oh and the beer with the organic turkey chili, I did not sleep well last night. Can you tell? I don't know what that owl's problem is. I can see the woodland creatures  in our yard just fine. So why doesn't it grab a happy meal special of rabbit burger and shut the hell up?

What else?

Made the switch to cloth napkins finally. And environmentally safe, non carcinogen toothpaste and mouthwash. I'm still trying to track down bodywash that fits into the same category and doesn't cost $32 for 2 ounces. It feels like such a burden to have to worry about all this stuff, but if I failed to make the switch I would feel even worse. And some of the things I already used that I thought were great apparently aren't, but I'm not even certain why that is the case. Trying to be environmentally responsible and protect your family from ingredients other nations have banned for years is overwhelming. Especially when I live somewhere that doesn't have easy access to other options and all that safety costs twenty-three times what the other brands cost.

I just remembered that I got black beans and salsa for lunch today. Yum. (see how easily mollified I am?)

Lazy but grateful

I don't know that we have ever had a busier December. Every weekend  and half the weekdays have been packed with parties and dinners and gatherings and get-togethers.

But even though we're all beat and not getting quite enough sleep, I'm grateful to have so many  wonderful people in our lives with whom we enjoying spending time.

I need to get a bit of a move-on and accomplish a few errands this morning, but it's too lovely lying here in the sunshine like a cat on a windowsill. I may allow myself to drowse a bit instead.

Children can be so joyous---we were playing a game last night with a group of kids, many of whom didn't know one another and every time one of the children was "out", not one of them became sulky or angry. Instead, they all cheered on the remaining players and clapped and laughed and danced. 

And my own little mush has been so sweet of late that he makes my heart ache with his beauty. He has gone from being stingy with the kisses to randomly and solemnly kissing me  first on each cheek, then the tip of my nose, my forehead and  finally chin. And he always smells like fruit and syrup. 

I am awash with emotions, all of them happy. It's good to be mired in living.

Euro, we need you to be sinking in value, not rising.

Isn't today's paper full of good cheer? Toddlers wandering away from a daycare, euro making the dollar look like ass...I hope that I kept my euros that I didn't exchange and didn't give them to Mort for fun money. I need to switch that up if I did and give him a five dollar bill instead. Ah, hell, I might as well give him a 20. It's Christmas after all and it's basically Monopoly money at this point.

Hey, but I did decide on an outfit for one of the Christmas parties we're going to.

And I do have the noisiest dog on the face of the planet who promptly begins her 30 minute wake-up session of vigorous cardio followed by grunting and stretching at 5 am. So, I won't feel too badly when we can no longer afford to feed her.

Oh. My. Gawd.

The Christmas card saga continues.  Out of the 65 or so cards we sent, we have heard from 20 or so people telling us it was hysterical and that they loved it.

 We have heard from two people, neither of whom understood it or what our possible motivation  could be in having the audacity to send a silly picture of our family as opposed to one of us wearing our matching fucking sweaters and sitting in front of the Christmas tree that is placed just to the right of the fireplace, complete with hung stockings and roaring fire.

And of course, the two people who were negative are making me feel like crap while the 20 plus people who liked it are unable to counterbalance the meanies. Who says shitty things about people's Christmas cards? I don't call people asking why they chose the card they chose.When did people start judging one another's FUCKING CHRISTMAS CARDS?!?

 I love Christmas cards in any incarnation. I love seeing pictures of our friends' children whether they are professional pictures, traditional pictures, school pictures or silly snapshots. I like family pictures, dog pictures, it doesn't matter. I love the personal touch and it means a lot to me that people take the time to send a card. I just enjoy them all. One year we received a Christmas card that had two of Jay's cousins dressed-up as Jedis and brandishing light sabers. That was one of our all time favorite cards because the kids were obviously having such a great time in that picture. I didn't call their parents and ask why they weren't wearing santa hats.

In the words of Charlie Brown, "ArrrrrrggggguuuuHHhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!"

Irregardless is not a word

Just in case you thought it was. I'm not saying that you are one of those people. But you have to admit, there are far too many of them out there.

So. I'm still fixated on the Christmas card thing. 

Also, it's rather amazing, but honestly, I have absolutely no sense of direction. None. It took me FOUR tries to get to a place I've been to a million times today. I could visualize it in my head. I just could not figure out how to get there. I kept getting on and off the highway and driving in different directions and through the city and back on the highway. And because we (we being me and my ever constant 4 foot 2 inch companion) had to run 900 errands in the pouring rain 15 days prior to Christmas so that we could get gifts for people who handed us a list and refused to accept our statement that we did not wish to exchange gifts this year,

 [Truly-it went like this: 

Person: So, what do you want for Christmas?

Me: Honestly, nothing. We aren't doing gifts this year. Please don't get us anything.

Person: Well, I'm going to get you something! Here's what we want...

M: Really, don't get us anything. Save your money and come visit us in Italy.

Person: I have to get you something and here's what you can get us.]

 I had promised my ever faithful companion that at the end of fighting our way through malls and bookstores and boutiques and being in the car for so long my back is throbbing we could celebrate by getting ice cream.

And when we pulled up to the mo-fo ice cream place, there's a freaking sign on the door that says "Closed for Winter." Try to explain that to a 4-year-old who is at the end of his rope of cooperation and patience. I understand the closing down of mom and pop places for the winter as it's simply not economical. But this was a freaking chain whose ice cream I don't even like! Luckily another chain was in sight: Starbucks, where I satisfied the slowly melting creature with an organic milk and blueberry muffin.

I'm exhausted. I don't know that I should be, but I am.

Geez

To any and all who received our Christmas card, yes that's us. Yes, it's meant to be funny. Yes, it was created with the magic of computers. (Stella with glasses and a wig? C'mon guys...)Huh. I guess we should have done two cards, because people are either calling us to say it's hysterical or to ask us what it's about because they don't get it. "Is that you? How did you get glasses on Stella?"

I don't know why I didn't discover yogi tea sooner. It really is incredibly soothing and relaxing.

Okay, I'm having baby envy. Everywhere I go, there are these perfect little beings, snoozing in their slings and carriers and baby bjiorns. And someone who is even a couple of months older than I and has a child the same age as Mort just had twins. I'm too old to have this baby lust but when I see these Moms, harried and snappy and definitely non-blissful, surrounded by their gaggle of kids, I can't help but envy them. But kids that are 6 years apart, at best? At my age? When we're in the zone of a wonderful little guy who can pee on his own, brush and floss his own teeth AND keep himself entertained? And will even be in school full-time next year? And do I really want to return to the sleepless nights, the year of turning my body into a sacred baby making temple, the additional year of sacred baby body temple for feeding purposes, going through labor, or a c-section, then trying to regain my body at age 39? And this all with the assumption that my baby would be healthy and my eggs still viable. Ugh. I do wish we would have just done it when Jay was one and a half as we had originally planned. But Duke was finishing up his MBA and then my disc popped out and I was in physical therapy and suddenly it was three years later. I feel like I was meant to have more children. I just don't know if it will happen. I don't know if I want it to happen.

I will sell this house today!

Some mornings, you just wake-up on the right side of the bed. You look outside and see the leftover snow in your garden and a black barn cat hunting in the wee back region of your yard and the sun is not quite in the sky and the Christmas lights are on and you have a weekend ahead filled with parties and dinners and you just feel good.

I had a dream that my Mom was dating Michael Kors. Which is weird on quite a few levels. One being that I fixed them up. The others you can probably figure out for yourself.

Typical, typical

I have a slew of paperwork involving my name change and getting a passport for Mort and just stuff that I don't feel like doing, so I've been shoving it all in a cabinet.

Today, I thought, today I will tackle these things and be done with them. I will remove that little pocket of anxiety that's lurking around reminding me that I have things I need to do that I'm not doing. Like practicing my Italian. That's weighing on me as well. But I just keep finding other things I need to do.

I decided to go get my new driver's licence while Mort was at school. I drove to the DMV, all my documents in hand, and of course it was closed, because I hadn't bothered to check when it was open. I assumed it was open whenever I was ready to go.

And now, because I didn't get that accomplished, I am paralyzed and can't do any of the other tasks until that one is done. I know, it doesn't make sense to me either.

Let's play... "What color is my hair?"

Well, it's a myriad, actually. It's a mix of brown and red and auburn and orange and light brown and the ever popular white that is starting to take over.  I know better. I truly truly do. I need to live by one single rule as far as my hair is concerned and that is, never, ever, ever do anything to it. Give in to my stylist maybe once a year and let her trim the teensiest amount off of my ends. That's it. Don't do anything else.

In the past month, I have gone from having elbow-length hair to having chest length, layered hair. I have gotten bangs. It was blonde. Then it was black. Then it was light brown. Then it was black again. Then it was dark auburn. Then it was flat blackish brown. And now it's a mess of ruin.

I wasn't going to return to my hairdresser, but now I feel I have no choice. I cannot fix this on my own. The color is bad, the bangs are horrid and it looks like a blocky mess. Why do I do this to myself? Why do I not remember that messing with my hair is very painful? It must be like childbirth. You know that it hurt, but you cannot fathom how truly ungodly horrendous it was because your brain protects you so that you will continue to breed.  My brain must protect me from the sheer horror of change as far as my hair is concerned. And so I forget. And I do it again.

11 years ago today

My now husband proposed to me in our apartment in Boston. I was cranky and sick and wearing pjs and a pair of his socks and getting ready to go to work. He was going to propose to me the night before in Little Italy after we had seen the Boston ballet perform The Nutcracker but he didn't count on the fact that I would be sick and out of it on cold medicine. It's a loooong story. But it's a story, alright. I'm sure lots of people have lovely engagement stories--us, not so much.

Although it was a complete surprise, as I had told him I would be happy to live together forever, but I never wanted to get married. You try having parents with 8 marriages between them and see if you think it's a viable institution. My mom is extremely anti-living together (Catholic roots)--can you say 3 months of not speaking to me? And she had the big accusing behind my back talk with Duke of "What are your intentions with my daughter? Why are you willing to live with her but not marry her?" My poor mom. She had to play good cop, bad cop all by herself and be dad and mom both. She felt both better and worse upon Duke's response that he wanted very much to marry me, but I didn't believe in marriage.

But the longer we were together, the more I did want to get married, I just never shared that with him. But as always, he knew. I have to give him alot of credit for helping me to break down all my defensive posturing and just loving me for the me he saw beneath my prickly tough act. He showed me it was okay to be me and that I didn't have to be on guard against everyone all of the time. He showed me it was okay to be silly and laugh and not be so uptight and not care so much about what people thought of me. He loved me unconditionally. He had no idealized version of me. He loved me;gigantic flaws and wack-o behavior didn't deter him in the least. Because seriously, I was a self-destructive train wreck and a half. And with Duke, I didn't have to be.

Happy engagement anniversary. You are my best everything.

Looks like I have a job!

The magazine was pleased with my work and has asked me to continue to work for them! Woo-hoo!

How to tell when you're spinning too fast and your head is not working

The tip-off for me was when I tried to cook my son's turkey dog by putting it in my laptop like it was a George Foreman's Grill.

I'm turning the corner.

This morning I didn't get out of my p.j.s to take the kid to school. And then I went shopping in them as well.

Angry and lazy

I'm angry because the family whose children I'm playing Santa for smoke. And if you can afford cigarettes nowadays, you can damn well afford to buy your kids Christmas presents. Priorities you selfish gits! You aren't going to go without your cigarettes, but you were going to let your kids go without gifts? Quite frankly, I would rather be serving a family who had fallen on hard times and whose children were their top priority. However, I just have to look at it that kids are kids and I'm not doing this for their parents. And at least parents whose children are their first priority have love, whereas children whose needs come second to their parent's addiction do not. But it definitely takes some the sparkle out of gift buying.

I'm lazy because I can't make our house a Winter Wonderland this year. I just can't. I have decorated, but I'm bored with my controlled "perfect" decor and I don't want to do it. I want to mix it up, but I'm not willing to invest in new decorations when that money could be better used. So, we'll see how it all works out.

I may be a old before my time

i often become so furious when I read the newspaper, either because the article is so filled with jackholes and their jackhole behavior or because someone has written in, spewing their hate and ignorance all over my morning coffee. So, I will spend a couple of hours perfecting the retort and/or complaint I have in a letter to the editor. And then I don't send it because really, no one cares.

This morning I wrote two drafts of a letter in response to a situation in "Dear Abby" of all fricking things.

I'm reaching a new low. Soon I'll be wasting my time writing in praising magazines for their outstanding article on how to watch your caloric intake over the holidays.

Okay, I'm not dying! Woo-hoo!

Despite the doctor telling me my blood test results would take a week, I was called last night and I do have a random unknown-how-I-got-it infection, but it can be treated with antibiotics. YAY!

I was so convinced it was Lyme Disease or even worse, MS or one of the other frightening conditions that my symptoms kept pulling up on the Internet. So scary. Thank you for the pass, God.

And my husband was amazing through my entire ordeal. He really reminded me that he is truly in this for better or worse. In the morning, my hands ached so much I couldn't open my allergy medicine, so he would do it; he worked full-time( which for him is often a solid 12 hour day) and did all of Mort's child care, he put the clothes from the washing machine into the dryer without even being asked because he knew I couldn't lift the wet clothes, he folded and put away laundry and made-up the bed, he's done every dish in the house...basically he's done his job and mine as well. When Mort was too loud, he reminded him my head hurt, he made certain I was drinking fluids and taking my aleve. He even went to the pharmacy at 8 pm last night after doing all the dinner dishes so that I could start my treatment right away. I am so fortunate in so many ways.

I have so much to write about the non-joyful feelings i now have about the Christmas gifts I'm getting for a down on their luck family, but I have to get ready to take the kid to this morning's entertainment.

Copied from Another Blog I follow

100 more things

The things I can check-off are in italics


1. Started your own blog
2. Slept under the stars
3. Played in a band
4. Visited Hawaii
5. Watched a meteor shower
6. Given more than you can afford to charity
7. Been to Disneyland
8. Climbed a mountain
9. Held a praying mantis
10. Sang a solo
11. Bungee jumped c
12. Visited Paris
13. Watched a lightning storm at sea
14. Taught yourself an art from scratch
15. Adopted a child
16. Had food poisoning
17. Walked to the top of the Statue of Liberty
18. Grown your own vegetables
19. Seen the Mona Lisa in France
20. Slept overnight on a train
21. Had a pillow fight
22. Hitch hiked
23. Taken a sick day when you're not ill
24. Built a snow fort
25. Held a lamb
26. Gone skinny dipping
27. Run a Marathon
28. Ridden a gondola in Switzerland
29. Seen a total eclipse
30. Watched a sunrise or sunset
31. Hit a home run
32. Been on a cruise
33. Seen Niagra Falls in person
34. Visited the birthplace of your ancestors
35. Seen Amish country
36. Taught yourself a new language---well, I'm working on it
37. Had enough money to be truly satisfied
38. Seen the Leaning Tower of Pisa in person
39. Gone rock climbing
40. Seen Michelangelo’s David
41. Sung karaoke
42. Seen Old Faithful geyser erupt
43. Bought a stranger a meal at a restaurant
44. Visited Africa
45. Walked on a beach by moonlight
46. Been transported in an ambulance
47. Had your portrait painted
48. Gone deep sea fishing
49. Seen the Sistine Chapel in person
50. Been to the top of the Eiffel Tower in Paris
51. Gone scuba diving or snorkeling
52. Kissed in the rain
53. Played in the mud
54. Gone to a drive-in movie
55. Been in a movie--I've been on a TV show; close enough?
56. Visited the Great Wall of China
57. Started a business
58. Taken a martial arts class
59. Visited Russia
60. Served at a soup kitchen
61. Sold Girl Scout Cookies
62. Gone whale watching
63. Got flowers for no reason
64. Donated blood, platelets or plasma--I tried, but at the time I was too thin & didn't qualify. I sure could now!
65. Gone sky diving
66. Visited a Nazi concentration camp
67. Bounced a check
68. Flown in a helicopter
69. Saved a favorite childhood toy
70. Visited the Lincoln Memorial
71. Eaten Caviar
72. Pieced a quilt
73. Stood in Times Square
74. Toured the Everglades
75. Been fired from a job
76. Seen the Changing of the Guards in London
77. Broken a bone
78. Been on a speeding motorcycle
79. Seen the Grand Canyon in person
80. Published a book---I've published short stories
81. Visited the Vatican
82. Bought a brand new car
83. Walked in Jerusalem
84. Had your picture in the newspaper--I had a picture I drew in the newspaper, how's that?
85. Read the entire Bible
86. Visited the White House
87. Killed and prepared an animal for eating
88. Had chickenpox
89. Saved someone’s life
90. Sat on a jury
91. Met someone famous
92. Joined a book club
93. Lost a loved one
94. Had a baby
95. Seen the Alamo in person
96. Swam in the Great Salt Lake
97. Been involved in a lawsuit
98. Owned a cell phone
99. Been stung by a bee
100. One cavity or less---no cavities, thank-you very much

Better in Spirit, not so much in body.

Physically, I don't feel any better, but mentally I feel fantastic. I get to buy presents for a family whose children otherwise wouldn't receive anything for Christmas. We usually do Toys for Tots, but this is so much better because they are gifts the children want but wouldn't have been able to have. And they are asking for such small things that it almost breaks my heart. Every child deserves the opportunity to believe in Santa. I know it's only one family, but as Mother Theresa said, "If you can't feed everyone, feed one person." Or something profound like that. Maybe it's wrong that this is giving me so much pleasure? Does that make it a selfish act? But once you have a child, it's like every child could be yours and you just want to make them all okay. Children don't ask to be brought into this world. They have no say into what circumstances they're born. They can do nothing when their parents fall on hard times.

We are so lucky, because our son is healthy and he asks for so little (he sat on Santa's lap and asked for two toys) and we are lucky because we have a steady income and can make certain Santa brings him those two toys. We are lucky because we have all we need and don't want for any gifts, or food, or clean water, or heat.

And I will gladly trade any gifts I might receive every single year so that I can make certain a couple of children I don't even know get to believe in Santa for just a little longer. In that, I guess it is a huge gift that I'm giving to myself, because my child has the luxury of knowing that when he awakes on Christmas morning, there will be presents beneath the tree, and our family can extend that luxury to other children who don't believe that Santa will be visiting them at all.

I am so very humbled and grateful for this life with which I've been blessed.