I'm officially going on holiday now! I want to knit, and bake, and watch movies with my girls, so I won't be blogging until late next week. My columns will still appear on Fridays, but I may not check back in other than that until next week. I really need a break!
And if you want to give ME a Christmas present, can you fill out my two "bedroom" surveys? They're for my new book, The Good Girls' Guide to Sex. One's on your wedding night and one's a "who initiates" survey. They're both completely anonymous. I'd so appreciate it!
Have a wonderful Christmas with your family. I hope you are able to enjoy at least one silent night. And speaking of silent, let me leave you with the Silent Monks singing the Hallelujah Chorus to get you in the Christmas mood!
Every Friday my syndicated column appears in a bunch of newspapers in southeastern Ontario. This week's is so much like Wifey Wednesday that I thought I'd republish an older one instead, just for variety. So here's one from two years ago. The sentiments are still the same.
I am decorating my Christmas tree. I am trying to persuade my husband to hang our Christmas lights. I am going shopping for Christmas presents. And I am doing my Christmas baking.
I am not doing holiday baking. I am not erecting a Seasonal Tree. I am not buying Winter Presents, or Holiday gifts, or putting up Seasonal lights. They are Christmas lights, and I’m proud of it.
It drives me around the bend how the word “Christmas” has become something to be embarrassed about. Companies don’t throw Christmas parties; they hold Holiday Get-Togethers. We receive “Best Wishes for the Holidays” cards from politicians and mechanics and charities we’ve supported this year. And worst of all, stores advertise their “Holiday Specials”, or attempt to share the “Joy”, as if we’re all magically joyful about this time of year when slush and freezing rain abound.
I understand that nobody wants to offend people who don’t celebrate Christmas, and that desire is very admirable. I think, though, that this is taking things a little too far. The vast majority of Canadians celebrate Christmas in some way, even those who aren’t religious or don’t go in for eggnog. So why can’t we acknowledge that?
Besides, “Season’s Greetings” makes no sense. Did you send people cards on June 21 wishing them “Season’s Greetings” now that summer was here? I’m pretty sure most people are far happier at the cusp of summer than they are at the cusp of winter, but we don’t celebrate that. So it’s not the “season” that’s special.
Or what about “holidays”? When’s the last time you sent someone a card wishing them “happy holidays” because they were taking a four day weekend? We just don’t do it. And that’s the problem with a lot of political correctness. It really makes no sense.
I recently saw a poster advertising the “Year of the Older Person”. I suppose they didn’t want to say “Year of the Elderly” or “Year of the Senior Citizen”, but their choice of politically correct words just made the whole thing laughable. After all, my daughter Rebecca is older than her sister Katie. Katie is older than her cousin Jessica. In fact, since there are approximately five babies born every second in their world, we all only have a micro-second of our lives in which we are not an older person. But someone decided to bestow that name upon the celebration so as not to offend. In the process, they stripped it of all meaning. I think we’re doing the same thing when we refuse to acknowledge the existence of Christmas.
In fact, what if not saying Christmas is actually offensive to more people than saying it is? If Christmas is people’s most significant celebration, then to pretend it isn’t happening is denying something that’s vitally important to them. One study out of the United States found that 67% of American adults preferred stores to use “Merry Christmas” in their seasonal advertising rather than the innocuous and meaningless “Season’s Greetings”. No matter how you cut the demographics—whether it was men, women, unmarried, married, investors, or not—in all categories a majority liked Merry Christmas better.
This year Sears has their “Wish Book” title written in a huge font, but at least the word Christmas is there, on the cover, though you may need your reading glasses to make it out. Wal-Mart in 2005 was holiday neutral; in 2006 they switched back to Merry Christmas, in the hope of luring more customers back to their stores. And the Toronto City Council had eggnog on their faces after their “holiday tree” fiasco last year, which they had to switch back to “Christmas Tree”, since that is, of course, what it is.
Our family isn’t spending very much this year. We’re taking a vacation instead, and I’m hoping to head back to Africa in a month. But when we do shop, I’ll stay away from the stores who want me to “share the joy of the season”. I’ll be heading to those who aren’t afraid to mention why I’m shopping. When people start to acknowledge that it is, indeed, Christmas, then the merriment begins. So Merry Christmas, to all of you. I hope you all have a blessed celebration.
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Which group you're in often depends upon disposable income; if a family has enough that she tends to buy what she wants, she often doesn't want presents. If the family has been tight for money, presents are nice because it's him agreeing to spend money on something she wants.
The problem is, however, that those in group 1 have husbands who believe they're actually in group 2, and those in group 2 have husbands who believe they're actually in group 1. We can never seem to get on the same page.
I've been telling my husband for years, for instance, that I really don't want anything for Christmas. And I mean it. I have everything I need, and I don't want him spending money without us talking about it together. What I'd really like is just some time together, or to play games with the kids, or a more relaxed Christmas season. I don't want to stress trying to find something to buy him when he already has what he wants, too (and we both have hobbies that are so specific that to buy for each other is really hard).
He, on the other hand, thinks that it's all a test, so every year when we vow not to buy anything for each other, presents for me end up under the tree anyway, causing me to have to buy something for him.
I have a friend, however, who is in the opposite situation. Money has been tight, and there are a few things she would desperately like to spend money on. She's hinted to her husband what those things would be, but he doesn't get the hint. And he usually buys her something small, that she already has 15 of. She, on the other hand, keeps track of what he wants, and she saves money all year to buy him something nice, like a nice TV to replace the one they've had for twenty years.
I think she's really in the worse position, because on Christmas morning she feels hurt that he didn't put more thought into it, whereas I just feel a little perturbed when my kids whisper to me on December 22 that Daddy did, actually, get me a present and I now have to go shopping. Hurt is worse than perturbed by far.
What I don't understand is why we can't seem to get on the same page. I have explained this to my husband many times, but he still feels that it is his duty to buy me a present. My friend has told her husband after birthdays, or anniversaries, or Christmases when the present was lame that she would appreciate some thought, but it doesn't come.
So, here's my question today: what do you suggest? What should women do to create a Christmas that is more peaceful and satisfying?
Here are a few extra thoughts:
1. What does the husband want? I've been focusing on the wife's feelings, but what does he want? Maybe my friend's husband honestly is simply worried about money and wants to keep the family afloat.
2. How do you communicate things well to your husband? I have heard of one woman who asked two close friends to email her husband a month before birthday, anniversary, and Christmas to give him gift suggestions and stores to get those gifts at. She hasn't had a problem since. But I'm not sure how many husbands would appreciate it!
What are your thoughts? What do you do in your family? And is it stressful? Let me know!
It's Survivor Christmas Tree Challenge at my house! Every week we're voting off one hideous decoration off of the tree. Today I need you to vote something else off! I'm in the middle of a major writing project, so I don't have time to write a really important post today (although you could really help me by filling out my bedroom survey or my Wedding Night Survey), but I think it's still an important work I am doing by ridding my tree of ugliness.
So far you all have helped get rid of the two pictured in the top of this post.
But my husband has just nominated these three for our next batch. First up is a wooden stocking, painted, with odd pom poms affixed in strange places:
Next up is a strange star, made by we're not sure at this point, out of plastic rings.
Finally we have my husband's pick, though you are free to disagree. I believe this is supposed to be peppermint or something, but it's made of glass, and looks really odd.
Here's another angle:
So what will it be? What goes off of the tree today?
Just a tip: if at all possible, try not to spend the evening in the Emergency Department. Thought that might be a useful thing to keep in mind.
It's not really that fun, especially when they poke you. And it's especially not fun when you've had your third bladder infection in six months, and they want you to pee into a cup, which is what hurts in the first place.
But I am very grateful my husband is a doctor who can get me seen faster than most, and this morning I'm actually not feeling too badly.
Nevertheless, this isn't going to be a long post, because "not feeling too badly" does not actually mean "feeling pretty well". It more means "I no longer what to kill myself when I have to go to the bathroom, but I still don't want to move".
So I think I'll just introduce a topic of conversation, and then I'd love your comments!
Here's the scenario: I don't like buying junk for adults for Christmas. Never have. I figure that we're adults, thus we can buy stuff for ourselves. Buying things for those who can't afford it seems nice, but buying things for people who make a decent income seems a little strange. Knitting a scarf or making something yourself is different; picking up a coffee maker from Wal Mart is just plain odd.
Nevertheless, there are those in my family who are very committed to the Christmas gift giving frenzy, and so for the first decade or so of our marriage we dutifully bought gifts for everyone because as much as we suggested that this was silly, no one seemed to go along.
Now they seem to, which is nice. So we're left with just getting presents for parents and children, and I can live with that.
But even buying something for my husband seems weird, because I know if he wants something, he just buys it. He doesn't need me to buy it for him.
So here's our question: what do you do about gifts for adults? How did you negotiate a new gift giving tradition? Or do you enjoy getting gifts for people, and I'm just Scrooge? Let me know in the comments! I'll read them while I am feeling sorry for myself in bed.
I'm not letting you, dear readers, vote on everything, because some my girls are voting on with their friends.
But here's our weekend challenge.
Katie, my youngest, nominated these three. First up we have, well, I really don't know what it is. I think a little bell used to hang from it. Words cannot convey, so here's the picture:
Next up is a wooden bell the girls painted and then stuck pom poms to. These aren't exactly special to them (since Katie nominated it). They have other homemade ones we've reserved. So here it is:
Finally, we have a store-bought decoration with yet another bell theme. Can you tell that it was Katie who nominated it?
Every year we put up our eclectic decorations on our Christmas tree. And every year they seem to get uglier and uglier.
It started with our wedding, when my mother presented me with a box of every Christmas decoration I had ever made as a child. Let's just say that pipe cleaners were my best friend.
Then, our first Christmas together, my mother-in-law presented me with a box of every decoration my husband had ever made as a child. Canvas cross stitch was featured prominently.
Over the years we have added things the children made, from dough figurines to pie plates with pictures and painted shapes.
And beyond a doubt, they are all hideous.
Many of them, of course, have sentimental value. But not all. And then you add to the tree the ugly decorations we have been given, or which I seem to have bought in a temporary lapse of any sort of colour coordination, and our tree is pretty awful.
This Saturday my girls and I decided to decorate, and much hilarity ensued as we examined the different elements on that tree. Some decorations are actually quite beautiful, but many are just plain terrible. And then it occurred to me: perhaps it is a time to have a weeding out.
Certainly we'll keep the important ones, which speak to a moment in our lives together, frozen in time (even if they are hideous!). But I do not think we need six examples of each type of hideousness. And since the girls are no longer children (Katie turned 13 this year), and they are both becoming quite decoration savvy, they would like to actually have a tree that looks, well, at least presentable.
So we have decided to host a Survivor Christmas Tree challenge this year. Instead of only using a typical advent calendar, we shall also celebrate the days ticking away until Christmas by voting a hideous decoration off of the tree. That's 25 decorations that can go! Some nights, one of the four of us will nominate 2 items, and the other three will vote, guaranteeing that one will go. Other nights I will let you, my loyal readers, chuck a decoration. I'll put up two pictures, and you can vote which one leaves! But there are rules: if an item survives a vote, it cannot be renominated until next week. That way if you really hate something, you know it better go now!
And then next Christmas, we'll still have the important ones, but we'll have more room to actually create a pretty tree by buying pretty things.
Tomorrow is officially the day we start, but since tomorrow is Wifey Wednesday, and I have something important I want to talk about re: marriage, I'm going to post the first vote now.
So here are our first two candidates:
First we have a styrofoam star that Katie spray painted gold in Sunday School one year, and added decorations to. It also, at some point, lost one of the points of its star, but it has been going on the tree every year anyway. Now please be assured that a few of the important things Katie made as a child are on the reserved list, so if this gets chucked, it is not like we lose everything she made.
Second up is what I believe is supposed to be a bow. I think I made this one when I was a kid. We took fabric, wrapped it together, and then used a pipe cleaner to tie it.
So it's up to you: which one has to go? You have until tomorrow to vote! And I do need your vote!
Every Friday my syndicated column appears in a bunch of newspapers in southeastern Ontario. And for the last 8 years, I have written 4 Christmas columns a year. That's 32 Christmas columns. It's becoming harder and harder to find new things to say! Luckily, I've received a bunch of emails asking me to re-explain The Three Gifts of Christmas that I've written about for two years in a row now, so this week I decided to oblige. Enjoy:
I love Christmas. I love the tree, and the turkey, and the story, and the candlelight service, and being with family.
What I don’t love is Christmas in November. To me, Christmas is a special time of year; it’s not special all year. When Christmas decorations go up before Hallowe’en, I have to put my foot down. Apparently Harrod’s in London, England erected a Christmas display in August! I guess when Christmas accounts for up to 40% of many retailers’ annual sales, they want to extend it as long as possible.
Forgive me, though, if I don’t want to help them. Of course it makes sense to do your shopping early. But rushing around like a tasmanian devil on December 20 is part of getting in the Christmas spirit. Putting up a tree on November 10 just seems weird. There’s a part of me that wishes Christmas could go back to being simplistic: we exchange a few gifts, enjoy a far too large meal, and visit with family. That sounds very Norman Rockwell. Buying everyone you know crap doesn’t fit as well into that idyllic picture. It just makes us look like dupes.
And I wonder if that’s what we are. All the Christmas marketing has convinced us that we have to buy gifts for everyone who crosses our path, from the Girl Guide leader and the children’s teacher to nosy co-workers and noisy neighbours. All we’re doing, though, is increasing the amount of junk in the world.
Our family has our own Christmas tradition when it comes to Christmas, and it's one I've mentioned for the last two years in this column. I keep receiving emails every November asking for me to write about it again, so I thought I'd take this column to oblige.
I have decided that I don't want Christmas in our house to be a gift haul. I want it to be meaningful. I'm not going to eschew gift giving altogether; I do love the opportunity to give my children things that can bring joy on that day. And giving is intrinsic to Christmas, since Christmas is all about God's gift to us.
I just want to make sure that this giving is done with some thought. Thus, in our family we have the Three Gifts of Christmas: Gold, Frankincense, and Myrrh. The gold gift is something they want, like an iPod. The frankincense gift is something they need, like pyjamas or beauty products (those are big in my house), and the myrrh gift is something that nurtures their spirit. That’s always the hardest one to come up with, but that makes it the most special, because it’s also the most individual and personal. It may be a journal, or a magazine subscription, or a book, or a CD or a DVD. Whatever it is, it’s something that challenges your loved one to go deeper in character and faith, but also reflects exactly who they were made to be. I began doing this just for my children, but this year I’m going to extend it to my husband and well. I like the idea, because it limits the number of gifts we buy, but it also makes each gift more meaningful.
I love choosing presents for those I love, but I fear we’ve lost sight of the point of the holiday. You can’t buy gratitude and faith and family and friends at Harrod’s, even in August. Once I started to rethink how and why we buy gifts, though, that bah humbug I all too often used to utter has just about disappeared.
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For the next few months I'm going to be busy writing a book, so I'll try to have thoughtful posts up on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, and on Tuesdays and Thursdays I'm going to post funny things I find on the internet. I just don't have enough time to write everyday, so I hope that's okay, dear readers!
Anyway, this happened in a town in Ontario last week close to where I live. It's a must see:
Every Friday my syndicated column appears in a variety of newspapers. Here's this week's. Hope you like it!
Are visions of sugarplums dancing in your head yet? We are in the midst of that season of imagination, of wonderment, of desperately hoping a good gift idea for your mother-in-law magically pops into your head.
And so, in honour of the season, let’s take a stroll into imaginary lands.
Imagine a world in which there’s no fruitcake masquerading as Christmas presents. Imagine that instead of passing the fruitcake around, we could all use it as doorstops, as it was intended.
Imagine a world where the Christmas lights put themselves up, and you don’t have to watch your husband dangling precariously from a ladder, eighteen feet higher than he should be, without feeling guilty that perhaps you should hold the ladder or something.
Imagine a Christmas with a white blanket of gorgeous snow, rather than brown slush. And imagine that gorgeous blanket of snow is weightless and distributes itself evenly in piles on either sides of the driveway, where it belongs.
Imagine a world where men did most of the Christmas shopping, and where men willingly washed the mound of Christmas dishes. Of course, that would give us women nothing to complain about, and would completely wreck our martyr complex, so maybe that’s not such a good idea. Let’s move on.
Imagine a world where women craved blenders, vacuum cleaners, and bathroom scales, and men actually appreciated ties and button down shirts. Think of the grief we could avoid if we stopped ascribing nefarious motives to the gift-challenged in our families, and truly believed “it’s the thought that counts”—and stopped trying to measure that thought in milliseconds.
Imagine teenagers all over the country shutting off their iPods and video games and rushing to church to sing carols and light candles, or to soup kitchens and synagogues to volunteer. Imagine their younger siblings looking upon Christmas as a wonderful opportunity to sleep in and then make their parents breakfast in bed, before ripping open the presents.
Okay, that last one’s a bit of a stretch.
But that can’t stop me from dreaming. So imagine that instead of spending $28 billion on Christmas gifts we all pitched in the $10 billion it would cost to give the world clean water.
Imagine that everyone invited a lonely neighbour to celebrate Christmas or Hanukkah with us. Imagine just a few days where we can take solace from the world where plant closures are the main topic of conversation, where rushing is the norm, and where cynicism reigns. Imagine instead a day when we can rejoice in Grandma’s potatoes, laugh at Uncle’s antics, and shed a few bittersweet tears over those who are not huddled around the table this year.
Imagine that we could bottle up our gratitude and support and awe of our troops away from home this season, and send it to them Xpresspost with a big bow (and a heap of turkey with gravy).
Imagine a world of gratitude, love, hugs, and harmony. At most times of the year it seems so far-fetched. But perhaps, this season, we can pass from the realm of imagination to the realm of real life. Whether you celebrate Christmas or another holiday, for most of us time stands still. Televisions are silenced, iPods are switched off, the internet is quieted, and we huddle with those we love. It’s not the rest of the year that’s real; Christmas is the real time, when we’re with those closest to us and we’re able to do the things that mean most. Imagine that we took the time this year to live out our values, forgive those from whom we’re estranged, or picked up a phone and called someone.
Just imagine.
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It doesn't matter where you go on the first floor of a hotel in Regina, Saskatchewan, it is still cold.
The business centre is just off of the lobby, and everytime someone enters or exits, a blast of -20 degree air comes in. I suppose I shouldn't complain; I don't live in this all the time. We get down to -20 in Ontario all through January and much of February, but it starts so early here. You have to hand it to the prairie folk. They're hardy stock, on both sides of the border.
I've spoken in the morning and in the evening for the last few days, but the afternoons I've had free. During these spare moments I've been hibernating in my hotel room with some luxurious, yummy cashmere yarn I bought this summer. I'm knitting fingerless gloves that are unbelievably soft. It's like carrying around an angora rabbit on your hands. They're so warm, even though they're relatively thin, and the yarn is just delectable to work with. It's been bliss.
What hasn't been as blissful is the offerings on the television. Even though 60 channels are available, there really is nothing on. We don't live with a television; we do watch movies, but more often than not I'm on the internet or just knitting in the same room as my husband does his hobby. I do enjoy watching television when I travel; it's a bit of a treat. But this weekend there's been nothing on. I deigned to watch CSI Miami yesterday, and I found I couldn't watch much of it. I just don't want to see dead and mutilated bodies. I know many love the show, but I find it so dark.
This afternoon I surfed to see what was on and the only show was Hoarders. Looked like an interesting concept (I thought about it more like a decluttering show), but boy was it depressing. I only lasted five minutes before shutting it off, because these people have honest to goodness mental illnesses. It seemed wrong to watch them, like they were in a zoo.
Instead I checked what movies were on, and settled for Julie & Julia. I really enjoyed it. First, it was so complimentary of marriage. Both women received their greatest joy and support in their lives from their husbands, and in turn realized that they were to support their husbands, too (and feel convicted when they do not). With all the marriage bashing going on, it was refreshing to see something that treated it well.
But the food in it was almost as delectable as my cashmere yarn. I love cooking, though I'm definitely not a French chef. But as I was watching it occurred to me that the appeal of someone like a Julia Child is that we women, even if we lead mundane lives, want some beauty there. And food can be so beautiful. In our lives we can settle for drab, or we can take that extra step to make the everyday stupendous.
Julia Child made it stupendous. And as Julie, the modern day character, immerses herself in these recipes, she feels a thrill that was so lacking in her life.
Many homeschooling curriculum publishers offer curriculum on the wifely arts of housekeeping, and I have to admit to finding it mildly amusing, and at times a little off-putting. It is not that I don't appreciate cooking; it is only that the curriculum seems so intent to slot our girls into a certain mold. And yet I think these books have a point. Generations ago these things were concerned "art": cooking, decorating, homemaking. They were not drudgery. Women made beautiful art out of scraps of fabric in the form of quilting. They knit rag rugs. They created masterpieces for dinner, even if they didn't know how to cook the French way.
Today we try to take shortcuts in everything. We don't make rag rugs. We don't cook from scratch. We try to avoid what seems like work. And yet isn't art also work? And can't work also be art? We have substituted the art that used to be a part of everyday life and instead carved out the time that would have been spent on that art and busied it up with watching television, or running even more errands, or driving our children to gymnastics.
Maybe we need a touch of art in our lives. Maybe we need a foray into French cooking, or into Christmas decorating, or into knitting cashmere fingerless gloves. We need more art in our lives.
I have been speaking this weekend about the pressures that we women put on ourselves to achieve certain things at Christmas, and I don't mean to put more onto us. But as with most things in life, the problem is not the THING. It is the ATTITUDE. This year I want to bake cookies. Glorious, yummy sugar cookies, with real butter, no matter the fat content. I don't want to do it because I feel pressured to bake for my family and neighbours. I don't want to do it so that I can be a proper mother. I want to do it so that I can have the thrill of making my own cookies.
Maybe you need such a thrill in your life, too. Watch the movie, and let yourself dream a bit. What can bring beauty and art into your everyday life? Is it cooking? Is it crocheting? Is it writing? God Himself creates; I think He smiles when we do, too.
So this season, find the joy in making something beautiful out of what is just a simple part of life. And feel your heart thrill in the process.
Thanks for your comments and posts on Wifey Wednesday yesterday. Glad to hear so many of you can't relate to having workaholic husbands! Some of the WW posts, though, explaining how they deal with it, were really beautiful.
Saw this article in the British newspaper The Telegraph yesterday. They were trying to do an experiment using men in their 20s who had never used pornography, and couldn't find any. I have to think they didn't try very hard. Right? Right? I know pornography use is rampant, but there are some Christian boys who are withstanding, aren't there? God, we need prayer as a society.
I'm heading off to Regina tonight to speak a bunch of times this weekend. Regina in December. Sounds crazy. The organizer said that it's a balmy -10 this time of year, though, not like January when it's -40. I have to go find my winter coat.
The Swiss voted this week to ban minarets on mosques. The political class, of course, wanted to keep them; the people didn't. I'm conflicted, because I fear that any law that restricts one religion can all too easily be used against another. But I understand the Swiss' feelings. It will be interesting to watch how this one turns out. Personally, I wish that the Muslim groups would stop criticizing the Swiss, and first clean up their own act and demand that churches be allowed in Saudi Arabia and that Christian persecution be stopped.
Gifted Hands: The Ben Carson Story was really a good movie (I blogged about it yesterday). Other good movies that portray faith in a positive light: Ruby Bridges. And I really liked The Ultimate Gift. Leave your own suggestions in the comments!
One of our Christmas traditions for years is to read out loud The Best Christmas Pageant Ever. It's absolutely side-splittingly hilarious, and yet it tells the Christmas story in a fresh, new way. Great for all ages, 4 and up. Even adults love it. And it's not that long; we've read it in a day. Makes great memories!
I'll be talking about simplifying Christmas this weekend. Any brilliant suggestions? I've got a bunch of my own (I'll blog about them later), but I'd love to hear yours!
Looking back on the year, I think it's been a good one for me. But I'm reminded that we rarely see that if we just look one day at a time. You've got to take the longer view to see what God is doing.
That's all for this morning. Got to go read my Bible!
Every Friday my syndicated column is printed in a bunch of papers! This one is a special one to me. For the last few years I've mentioned our method of gift giving, and inevitably people come up to me on the street, months later, telling me how much they appreciated it. So I thought I'd better mention it again, albeit in a slightly different way (it's hard to keep coming up with new Christmas columns after 8 years!). Here goes:
Apparently I buy really lousy Christmas presents. I had always mildly suspected my shortcomings, but recently economist Joel Waldfogel confirmed them. In his book Scroogenomics, he showed rather indisputably that if you ask Christmas gift recipients to assign a value to the gifts they receive, they inevitably quote a number less than the actual cost, leading to a waste of $963 million a year in Canada. And the gifts that are valued the least? Those from aunts, uncles, and grandparents, who apparently only get 75 cents of perceived value for every dollar spent.
I do have trouble buying for the nieces and nephews and various other younger people in my life. I don’t always share the same interests, and being the incorrigible aunt that I am, I refuse to pander to hobbies that don’t suit me. Instead, like many millions of aunts and grandparents and in-laws all over this nation, I buy something lousy instead. My preference is always books. Unfortunately, most younger Canadians don’t share my passion, and thus they consider these types of gifts with about the same amount of affection that I consider most X-box games. And thus we reach the gift-giving impasse.
One of my nephews announced rather brazenly that this year he’d rather just have cash. Doling out money, though, seems so crass. If gift giving is going to degenerate into passing along cash and gift cards, then Christmas becomes a season of greed, rather than a time to express our love.
Nevertheless, Waldfogel’s news isn’t all bad. We actually do quite well on certain gifts. The closer we are to people, the better the gift giving becomes. Siblings value gifts at about 99% of their value, and spouses do even better, at about $1.02. I’m pretty sure my children tend to like their gifts from me, as well.
Even if I buy my girls good gifts, though, is that really the point of the season? According to most of the seasonal flyers that pass through our mail slots it certainly is. Shoppers’ Drug Mart, for instance, in their 36 page “Gifts Made Easy” flyer managed to talk about the “Top 10 Gifts They’ll Love” (though I’m sure my nieces and nephews wouldn’t like those either), and lots of things to “Rock your Holiday”, or go “Twinkle Twinkle”, while only mentioning the Christmas word three times.
If Christmas is only about gifts, then we are in trouble. It has become a big waste, whether we’re successful gift givers or not, because all we’re doing is breeding greed. I know it’s difficult when children are young and they desperately want the latest toy, but parenting is about identifying teaching opportunities, and I think this is one of them. Life is not about accumulating stuff with as little work as possible; life needs to be about giving, about making a difference, about family, and values, and faith, and love, or life becomes very empty indeed.
That’s why several years ago we started a new gift giving tradition with my children. We call it the “Gold, Frankincense and Myrrh” ritual, where they each get three gifts, and nothing more. The gold gift is something they want. The frankincense gift is something they need, like socks. And the myrrh gift is something to nurture their souls. It could be a journal, or a book, or a CD, or a movie. It’s something that reminds them of their purpose here on earth, or encourages them to think, to write, and to pray about what’s important. It’s always the biggest challenge to find such a thing, but it’s a challenge I’m up for, since it reminds us of the reason for the season. And I’m pretty sure, despite what the flyers might say, that reason should not be greed. Pass it on.
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It's Wifey Wednesday, when we talk marriage! I introduce a subject, and then you all comment, either by creating your own blog post and linking up, or by leaving a comment here.
It would be appropriate to talk about gratitude for one's husband, since Thanksgiving is tomorrow for all you Americans, but I've done that quite a bit lately, so I thought instead I'd bring up something that's on my mind, since this is, after all, my blog! :)
So here's my quandary: what do you do about Christmas with your hubby? Let me explain. I'm not really into gifts that much. I'm honestly not. If I really really want something, I buy it for myself. Most of my hobbies are very specialized (like knitting), and someone who wasn't active in that hobby couldn't buy me something that I'd like. And my husband is not great at buying me clothes. Besides, I really feel quite blessed already, and I don't want a great deal of money being spent on me. I'd rather it go into the kids' college fund or to charity. I really would.
So a few years ago, we agreed that we wouldn't get each other gifts.
I made the mistake of assuming that agreement was binding. Turns out my husband thought, "there's no way I'm not buying my wife a Christmas present", so he bought me something big (I forget what it was now), and I hadn't bought him anything. I looked quite small in comparison.
To make matters worse, our anniversary is December 21, so I've got TWO gifts to buy, not just one. And I know my husband is going to buy something regardless, even if I tell him not to, so I'm stuck.
My husband presents similar dilemmas. He has very specialized hobbies, and I can't really buy for him. He needs clothes, but he doesn't particularly like them, so he doesn't consider them a gift. So what do I do? I'm really at a loss.
What do I want for Christmas? I don't want a gift per se. I want someone, either my husband or my kids, to take all our VHS family movies and transfer them to DVD. I want someone to organize my digital photos. I want someone to make a movie out of all the family movies we've taken over the last two years. That's what I want. But no matter how hard I actually say that, I don't get it, because people insist on BUYING me something.
I suppose I'm complaining a lot when Thanksgiving is tomorrow, but I do find this time of year a little bit stressful because I don't know what to buy, and no one takes me seriously that I honestly would rather not have anything (because it's true, I honestly would rather not have a gift that was purchased).
What about you? What do you do with your spouse for Christmas? Any brilliant advice I should take (like be grateful you have a husband who wants to buy you something, you ridiculous woman?)? Let me know! Just leave a comment, or go write your own blog post and then come back here and link up in the comments section!
Last week, when I was shopping with my girls, we stopped by the food court in the mall. And the girls were so excited that some of the "good seats" were still available, so we plopped ourselves down to watch.
And what was the object of our attention?
Santa. Not because we like Santa (I never believed in him as a child, and in fact told my ENTIRE kindergarten class that he wasn't real, causing my mother to get hate phone calls for months afterwards). It's just that we have a very sick sense of humour. My children and I find it fascinating to watch grown women try to plop very upset babies into the lap of a rather rotund stranger and then try to get that baby to smile, while the baby is crying and reaching out to Mommy.
Some babies go easily. But in that half hour, we counted three moms trying to coax crying babies and toddlers to sit still with the fat stranger and make a nice face. The babies would have none of it. They wanted their moms.
I think it's a perfect metaphor for Christmas. The baby is like our soul: it's reaching out to the familiar, the loving, the meaningful. But we miss the significance of that, and instead try to push the baby into the Christmas trappings, even if they ultimately don't satisfy.
Too often we spend too much time on the trappings, and not enough on what's really important.
I know some families find Santa fun, and I don't mean to say that you're wrong. I really don't think you are. I just could never summon up the energy to try to convince my kids of the existence of someone I found too complicated to try to explain. I also felt that my main calling was to point them to Jesus, and to add another semi-omnipotent and omni-present being into the picture was too confusing.
But I'm curious: what do you do? How do you handle Santa? What will you do this year? Tell me in the comments!
Every Friday my syndicated newspaper column appears in a variety of newspapers. Here was this week's:
I once read that most people spend on average two years of their lives waiting—waiting in lines, waiting for the waitress to bring the food, waiting for the furnace repairman. We may live in a fast-paced world, but there are some things we just can’t hurry. And waiting is aggravating, especially if you, like me, always pick the slowest line at the grocery store.
The Christmas season is all about waiting. We wait for that one special day when those much anticipated presents will finally be unwrapped, the extended family will arrive, and delicious aromas will fill the air. And waiting is torture, especially for younger ones. I’ve always felt it’s awfully unfair for children that we put our Christmas trees up in November. These poor tots with very little concept of time now have to wait over a month for Christmas, after being reminded of it daily.
When my husband was about nine, he was so tired of waiting that he took his two younger brothers and enticed them to open all the Christmas presents hidden in their parents’ closet. After examining their loot, they then rewrapped the lot, assuming their mother wouldn’t notice their haphazard job. They were wrong.
Waiting has always been an integral part of Christmas. From Mary waiting for her baby to be born to children waiting for dawn on that glorious morning, we wait. We dream of tomorrow and live for tomorrow, but in the process I wonder if we miss much of today.
When it’s presents we’re waiting for, waiting is full of excitement. But often the waiting periods in our lives are more characterized by dread than joy. I have several friends currently far back on a waiting list for specialist appointments, just so they can figure out what’s wrong. In the meantime, all these horrible diagnoses are dancing through their heads, where I’m sure they’d prefer sugar plums to be. And living in the agony of not knowing is the worst part of waiting.
If we could all do what my husband did and rip open the wrapping paper early perhaps we could take it. But when you’re waiting and there’s absolutely nothing you can do, life is painful. I have other dear friends whose daughter was just diagnosed with a serious disease. They’re spending their Christmas in and out of the hospital, and they won’t know a final prognosis for years. Even though things will likely turn out fine, that’s a lot of waiting.
I spent months waiting when I was pregnant with my second child, and the doctors told us that he had a heart defect which was likely to prove fatal. They just couldn’t tell me how long he would have. The rest of my pregnancy was spent preparing myself to meet the son I would one day bury.
What I learned through that difficult process, though, is that there’s no point in trying to prepare for every possible contingency, because only one thing is going to happen anyway. How much better it is just to savour the moment, and love the time that has been given to you.
None of us actually knows what tomorrow will bring, and when we try to live for all the things that might happen, we miss out on what is happening right now. If we spend our lives worrying, how can we enjoy what we actually have?
There’s really no point in spending our lives waiting. We can’t do anything about the future anyway. But we can love today. We can forgive today. We can hug today, and laugh today, and even cry today. We can choose not to sweat the little things. We can choose to let little grudges go. Treasure up those you love; cherish their smiles, and their voices, and their hugs. Don’t wait to mend fences; do it now, when Christmas is upon us, and people are misty-eyed over family and peace and love and joy.
There is no better time. So why wait?
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First, everyone should know that this is the proper attire when making stuffing.
I bought a 30 lb. turkey this year. And we're not feeding very many people. But I want a ton of leftovers. So this bird had to go into the oven at the crack of dawn. Hence the pyjamas.
But I also react to onions. Hence the goggles. So here I am, making the stuffing (don't worry, I washed my hands!), properly equipped. May you all be amazed at my ingenuity.
Yesterday was actually Christmas, and we had it at my mother-in-law's house. It was lovely, but Keith was feeling a little under the weather so we left early.
During the day, after the presents were opened, I went on a cleaning frenzy and totally cleaned my storage rooms and several bathrooms. Do any of you ever do that on Christmas Day?
Today I'm heading for the furnace room, now that the bird is in the oven. I don't have relatives coming until about 2:00, so I have around 4 hours to clean. Yay!
Other thoughts:
Making electronic games out of games that once did not require batteries is stupid. The old battleship game was the best. Who needs an electronic one with sound effects? The whole point was that you made your own.
And why electronic Monopoly? It's a fun game, but before the kids had to do the math in their heads. Now they just swipe their VISA cards. And now you need batteries!
Trying to get cousins to play when they have very different interests and are approaching the teen years is very difficult.
The Wii really is quite fun. And you do work up a sweat! What an awesome game. We haven't had cable or satellite or an Xbox, but we bought the girls a Wii. Now we're almost a normal family!
Sometimes the benefit of being with extended family is that it makes you remember how much you love your own little brood.
I'm quite busy playing games and wrapping presents, so I won't write a long post. But let me repost one of my Christmas columns from a while ago that shows how weird our family really is:
Can email bring families closer together? I’ll let you be the judge. Here is a synopsis of messages my extended family sent over an 18-hour period.
Aunt 1: Would you all like to come to Christmas dinner here?
Mother, Cousin 1, Cousin 2: Sure!
Aunt 2: I want to be anywhere but here, because all my cutlery and kitchen stuff is in boxes.
Me: Ummm, okay, but Keith’s on call and he may be a little worried about being 15 minutes from the hospital.
Aunt 2: Perhaps Keith should become a helicopter pilot so he can get there quicker?
Uncle: If he were to fly the Canadian copters, he may crash and end up in Emerg in an ambulance. But hey, that’s where he was heading in the first place!
Uncle again: With the first snowfall today, a great idea came to me. Wouldn't it be wonderful to have a Christmas BBQ down by the shore! We could build a big fire to thaw out our food as well as anyone who happened to wander off into a snowdrift. With all the doctors on site, I'm sure we could keep fatalities to an absolute minimum. Aunt 1: Ha ha ha ha. My husband is very funny. But we will be eating indoors.
Mother: You know, if Aunt 2 brought all her boxes of kitchen stuff, eating by the lake would be easier.
Aunt 2: Perfect! Down by the lake it is. I have some new hypothermia techniques I’ve been wanting to try out anyway. Perhaps we can invest in an ice boat for Keith.
Mother: I have visions of Keith flying down the Bay, fork in one hand and slightly frozen turkey in the other. Not sure from this distance whether the fork is one of Aunt 2’s or Aunt 1’s. Wouldn't want him going off with the wrong cutlery. Especially after Sheila's efforts to teach the girls some table manners. If it is turkey, he should be using the dinner fork.
Me: Given my children’s table manners and flatulent ability, I, too, am inclined to go with turkey-on-a-spit. I can assure you, though, that they will likely forget to use their forks. In fact, I’m likely to forget to come altogether. This week alone, I forgot their piano lessons, forgot Becca’s dance lessons, and was so mortified I determined not to forget Katie’s ballet lessons. I bundled her up, arrived at my meeting, and told everyone I had to leave at 10:52 to make it to ballet for 11. And I did make it to ballet at 11. Except that ballet started at 10. So yes, we can come. But please be grateful that even if my girls use the wrong fork, that they are at least using one; everyone should bring nose plugs; and someone will have to phone to remind me it is Christmas.
Uncle: Wonderful! Turkey-on-a-spit it is. Nobody bring metal forks, though. They have a habit of sticking to the tongue.
Cousin 2: We seem to have forgotten a compromise. If we all build an igloo around a fire, we can be both inside and outside at the same time!
Cousin 1: This is what I understand. When: Christmas Day, time yet to be determined but hopefully the weather will cooperate and it will coincide with an ice storm or arctic gale. Who: anyone who can make it whether they are playing hooky from the hospital or not; children may or not be present but do not be surprised if they show up in ballet tutus expecting a piano lesson. What to Bring: Many layers of clothing. I recommend a windproof layer on the outside to keep the outside wind out and one's inside wind in (very good for heating purposes). Will pack a can of beans for snacking on the drive out. In terms of cutlery contributions, I understand forks are not deemed necessary by the younger crowd and thus I will not worry so much that I can only transport plastic forks on the airline.
Uncle: I know! We could make it into a Reality TV show! The Survivors Christmas… “Who will be the last left on the icy floes of…”
Shortly after this, Aunt 1 disconnected Uncle’s internet and we all returned to normal. But now, at least, you know where I get it from.
Do you spend your Christmas season yelling, "This house is a mess!". How much better to say, "This mess is a house!"
In this hilarious podcast, learn how to get perspective this Christmas, so that you remember that it's about relationships, not Martha Stewart perfection.Along the way we'll learn some tips for keeping your home under control.
But remember: comfortable is different from perfect. Don't aim for perfect this year, or everyone will think you're Scrooge!
This one is a lot like my book, To Love, Honor and Vacuum, and it's based on a talk I gave this year called "My Perfect Christmas Tree". Sometimes we worry so much about looking like we have it all together that we forget the point of life.
So go over and take a listen. It's only eight minutes long, and you can listen while you surf the web!
About Me: I'm a Christian author of a bunch of books, and a frequent speaker to women's groups and marriage conferences. Best of all, I love homeschooling my daughters, Rebecca and Katie. And I love to knit. Preferably simultaneously.
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. And I really liked The Ultimate Gift. Leave your own suggestions in the comments!
