As my wonderful husband loves to say around here......."Every Day is Good....Some are Better!" Follow my life as the adoring, yet sometimes harried mother of eight----proud owner of the wonder girdle and chia bra!
Friday, April 1, 2011
My Annual Job Performance Review
In the corporate world, most receive an annual “Job Performance Review”. Heading into my near 18th year as a full-time “Domestic Engineer” I realized I’ve never been privy to such an assessment, unless of course the scrutiny I received from the GE repairman about the deplorable conditions lurking behind our fridge count. In that case, I would’ve been fired on the spot and not allowed to collect unemployment or ever purchase a new appliance until I completed a 10-step plan for the proper care of all such equipment. Luckily, dust bunnies don’t rat me out and those types of instances are “mommy’s little secret”. But in thinking about it, who would the most likely candidate be to perform this evaluation? The two most probable choices would be my husband or my kids. Whoa! That’s not going to work—I mean, my husband is one of the smartest, most caring, respectful, and decent people I know—this lets him off the hook immediately. As for my darling children—I suppose they give me informal reviews on a regular basis with comments like “Is THAT what we’re having for dinner tonight?” Or better yet, by giving subtle gestures like rolling their eyes (when they think I’m not looking) at my exuberant suggestions like spending a Friday night having a family sock matching party or sharing those quiet sighs that the entire neighborhood can hear when I ask for a volunteer to please locate the plunger, as I will be needing it to un obstruct a little clog in the main bathroom, yet again. Yep, they’re out too. Given that besides our dog, the only ones left would be the deli clerk, the orthodontist or the rubbish removal guys (they know more about what I do in a week than any other human beings on the planet) I think it’s best if I rate my own performance—after all, who knows better than me what I do all week long? Annual Job Performance Review for Cheryl L. Butler Length of Time with the Company: 24 years, 18 of them caring for 1, here comes 2, and 3, oh baby now we’re at 4, make that 5, no, I mean 6, strike that 7, final headcount-- 8 precious children. Current Position Held: Supportive and Loving Wife, Doting Mother, Chief Chauffeur, Culinary Goddess, Sanitation Engineer, Laundry Diva, Homework Supervisor, PTO Maven, Teen Counselor, Queen Boo Boo Kisser, Clutter Rehabilitator, Referee at Large, Bargain Hunter Extraordinaire, Head Honcho of Lost and Found, Cheerleader of all Things Kid Butler, VP of Storytelling, Mayor of Magic Words, CEO of Cookie Baking, Vomit-cleaning Vixen, Duchess of Daydreaming, Stain Master, Magician, Teacher of Anything and Everything that can help make my kids make a difference in this world, Life Saver, Life Giver—WOW—I think I’ll stop there! Knowledge of Work – Cheryl has gone above and beyond the call of duty in figuring out all phases (and then some) of her dream job. At this point—what she doesn’t know won’t kill her. Communication – Cheryl has demonstrated high marks in effectiveness in listening to others, expressing ideas, both orally and in writing, and providing relevant and timely information to all those who reside in the household. Whether or not anyone actually listens to her, cannot be held against her. Decision Making/Problem Solving – Cheryl has pulled off some unbelievable feats when figuring out how to be in 8 different places at once. Though she still hasn’t figured out the art of cloning, she now knows what causes the white laundry to turn pink. Expense Management – Cheryl is the first to admit that she and the word “budget” were probably not meant to come together in this lifetime. Other than a few bounced checks and forgetting the correct amount for hot lunch and milk money, she’s holding her own. Personal Appearance – Cheryl remembers “back in the day” when she and current fashion were pretty much one in the same. 18 years and 8 kids later, not so much. Still, she usually never forgets to brush and floss and can disguise a stain or pilled sweater like nobody’s business. Dependability – Cheryl has never missed a day of work in the past 24 years. She may arrive harried and a bit late, but nothing—nothing can stop her from showing up each day to care for those she loves. Employees Strengths: Plain and simple—Cheryl loves her family and will continue to serve as devoted wife, mother and homemaker until her vacation home in the Caribbean is ready for occupancy. (Just kidding—just kidding!) Performance Areas that need Improvement: Hmmm—this is where self-evaluation is tough. Well, not really. If I could recommend any performance enhancement in this most important of jobs that I’ll ever hold in this lifetime, it would be to savor the small things, cut myself a bit more slack each day, not worry about what’s going on behind my refrigerator (boo hiss Mr. GE repairman!), and never forget why I applied for it in the first place—because at the end of the day it’s the only job that furnishes me with unlimited riches and benefits—my family!
Thursday, March 3, 2011
Behind the Scenes at The Rhode Show
When my first book, Pregnant Women Don’t Eat Cabbage, was published last February, I never gave much thought to the idea of having to promote it. I was realistic in knowing I probably wouldn’t be sitting on Oprah’s couch (next book!) sharing my whimsical tales of visiting the delivery room seven times and why my best advice shouldn’t be taken lightly--stay miles away from sauerkraut the night before you go into labor! But, I knew enough from being in the author’s loop that unknown’s like myself need to do lots of their own touting and marketing if they want anyone other than their own mother and best friends to buy and read their book.
Self-promotion is very much out of my comfort zone. It’s one thing to write about pregnancy flatulence but an entirely different matter announcing to the world that you want them to buy your book and see for themselves just how heartfelt and hilarious it is and promise them it will definitely be the “go to”-- “must read” pregnancy book of the 21st century. Therefore, I didn’t spend nearly enough time on a marketing plan and just clung to my naïve thoughts that once a few people read it, word of mouth would be all that I needed to join ranks with James Patterson, Amy Chua, George W. Bush and others currently on The New York Times Best Sellers list.
I quickly learned how wrong I was, and that as a newbie author I had a lot to learn about the art of selling a book—writing it was the easy part! And so began my uncomfortable but necessary journey into the world of sales. There were dozens upon dozens of contacts to be made in addition to mass mailings of “all about me” and why my book was different than any other pregnancy book on the market. I hit the cyber world running as well, e-mailing every baby boutique and pregnancy-related outfit there was. At the same time, I still had a family of 8 kids, a husband, a feisty black lab, a household, school commitments and a part-time writing job to tend to as well. Let’s just say marketing the book took a back seat to everything else—at first.
Slowly, and I do mean slowly, I started hearing back from some of the contacts I had reached out to and my book started making its way on to bookstore shelves, gift shops, and on-line boutiques. I had several book signings, had a shout-out on Frank Coletta’s Sunrise Coffee Salute, a great book chat on Reading With Robin, and was written up in a handful of magazines (including our very own East Greenwich Monthly and NK View). These efforts helped tremendously and my book, one year later, is trickling through the ebb and flow of attention and sales.
One of the exciting things about being an author is that you just never know who is going to read your book. In early January, I was pleasantly surprised to learn that WPRI’s Meteorologist, Michelle Muscatello, had read it and enjoyed it so much that she thought I would make a fun guest for The Rhode Show, which airs on Fox from 8 – 9 AM Monday – Friday. Since I had never even attempted sending my book to their promotional department, this came as a huge surprise but a very exciting one. I was contacted on Wednesday, January 26th and booked for Monday, January 31st’s show.
I was nervous, excited, thrilled, scared to death and faced with every woman’s quandary—what the heck should I wear? I cannot tell a lie—I did go shopping that weekend to find the perfect outfit (translation—to find something that wouldn’t make me look a load of pounds heavier than I actually thought I was!). I hated everything I tried on not understanding why I had to go up a size (or two) than I had shopped for only the year before. Finally, I found a beautiful melon-colored sweater set with a pair of chocolate brown pants (anything to hide my spare tire) that I felt made me look trendy but like the mom next door! (Hey, I’m honest!)
Sunday night I could hardly sleep. I had to be at the Channel 12 Studio in East Providence by 7:30 AM and certainly didn’t want to be late for my TV debut. I was awake, showered and dressed by 6 AM and still managed to leave the house later than I wanted to thanks to the extra 10 minutes I spent scraping ice off my windshield.
I arrived without incident at 7:30 on the dot and was greeted by a couple of young interns from Bryant University. They were absolutely adorable and very welcoming and took my nerves from over the edge to a somewhat manageable state. Even better, one of them had read the back cover of my book jacket and enthusiastically commented on how neat it was that I had been published in several of the Chicken Soup for the Soul books. Channel 12 needs to hire that young lady!
Next I was whisked away to the Green Room, the “holding” room where guests of TV shows wait before they go on air. First, yes—it really is green! Second, low and behold who is sitting in the Green Room as a guest of the show that same morning? Andrew Nota! That name probably means nothing to you, but it just so happens I went to high school with him! He hasn’t changed a bit and he recognized me and told me he follows my Family Zone column! Only in Rhode Island folks!
If you’re not familiar with The Rhode Show, their format can easily be compared to The Today Show but they cover all things Rhode Island. The hosts are very down to earth and banter lightly back and forth at the beginning of the program and then they cover RI news, interesting events happening throughout the state, have several weather forecast reports, feature a cooking segment and have local artists, musicians, and authors appear throughout the week.
I walked in at the same time as the local chef that would be cooking buffalo nachos and deep-fried funyon rings! Let’s just say I wasn’t up for tasting bison at 8 AM, but it sure did smell—uh, interesting. What was more interesting was seeing the set. On TV, the kitchen looks 4 times larger than it really is. I was so intrigued with checking out all that went on backstage that I completely forgot about how nervous I was and whether or not my swanky new outfit was truly going disguise the 10 lbs the camera is known to add.
The ivory leather sectional that the hosts sit on is much tinier than it appears on camera, and although it looks as though they are sitting amongst a well-decorated family room—the couch itself is plopped on a very small stage which sits in the middle of a concrete room filled with TV cameras, lots of lights, wires, and two large TVs where the hosts can look to see when their cue will be given to start up each segment. I felt as though I was in a warehouse, but on screen, viewers would never realize that.
I was miked by 7:45 AM and actually went on air close to 8:30. Michelle Muscatello rushed right over (9 months pregnant, mind you!) and gave me a big hug and surprised me with the news that she would do the interview herself. One moment she was on air showing viewers how much snow they could expect in the next storm, (boo hiss) and seconds later she was sitting on the stool next to me where she was very engaging and warm which resulted in me feeling very relaxed without even trying. It truly was like sitting next to a girlfriend chatting about the obsessive world of pregnancy. I was told the interview would last from 2 – 3 minutes, and I remember thinking that there was just no possible way I could talk for that long. When Michelle finished the interview I remember laughing to myself, “Wait—there’s more, there’s so much more I want to tell everyone”.
And so, by 8:45 AM, I was driving out of the studio parking lot in my powder blue minivan, just beaming because I had been given this wonderful opportunity to chit chat about cabbage and how the book came to be. Soon after, my cell phone was ringing and my husband, mother and best friend had called to congratulate me. I was on Cloud 9. I met my dear friend (who just so happens to be my OB/GYN’s wife) at a coffee shop close to the studio to celebrate—wondering if anyone would recognize me from my big debut. Well, Bonnie recognized me, and treated me to a delicious quiche but other than that, there were no fans stalking my car or crowded in my driveway when I returned home later that day. That afternoon I went food shopping at Walmart and secretly (and shamelessly) wondered again if I would be recognized. Finally—I heard my name, but alas it was the girl I’ve come to know well at the Deli, “Hey good news—we have that sandwich pepperoni in stock again that you love!” And with that, my 10 minutes of fame was no more.
I’ve saved the best for last—watching the link that the producer sent me later that day. Remember now, I’m a mother of eight, was due to have my hair cut and highlighted the week AFTER I was on TV, and had painstakingly shopped for the perfect ensemble that wouldn’t make me look too tired and haggard. That said—I hit play and peeked from behind my two hands as I watched myself on camera.
So, what did I think?
Given that I only had 2 minutes to talk, I was very happy with how the actual interview went, including my unplanned giggle in reference to pregnant women choosing their St. Paddy’s day menu very carefully. How did I think I looked on camera you ask? The melon sweater definitely complimented my red cheeks but did nothing to cover my triple chins. The chocolate brown pants were swell, but I think they shouted out “yes, isn’t it obvious, she loves chocolate—hence the extra 30 lbs.” Sigh. I know I am my own worst critic, so I had to keep that in mind as I watched one more time and then promptly joined Weight Watchers the following day. “Hello, my name is Cheryl and the camera didn’t just add 10 lbs, it added more like 30.”
On the plus side—guess what—the group leader said? “Hey, I loved watching you on The Rhode Show yesterday! Where can I get your book?”
Self-promotion is very much out of my comfort zone. It’s one thing to write about pregnancy flatulence but an entirely different matter announcing to the world that you want them to buy your book and see for themselves just how heartfelt and hilarious it is and promise them it will definitely be the “go to”-- “must read” pregnancy book of the 21st century. Therefore, I didn’t spend nearly enough time on a marketing plan and just clung to my naïve thoughts that once a few people read it, word of mouth would be all that I needed to join ranks with James Patterson, Amy Chua, George W. Bush and others currently on The New York Times Best Sellers list.
I quickly learned how wrong I was, and that as a newbie author I had a lot to learn about the art of selling a book—writing it was the easy part! And so began my uncomfortable but necessary journey into the world of sales. There were dozens upon dozens of contacts to be made in addition to mass mailings of “all about me” and why my book was different than any other pregnancy book on the market. I hit the cyber world running as well, e-mailing every baby boutique and pregnancy-related outfit there was. At the same time, I still had a family of 8 kids, a husband, a feisty black lab, a household, school commitments and a part-time writing job to tend to as well. Let’s just say marketing the book took a back seat to everything else—at first.
Slowly, and I do mean slowly, I started hearing back from some of the contacts I had reached out to and my book started making its way on to bookstore shelves, gift shops, and on-line boutiques. I had several book signings, had a shout-out on Frank Coletta’s Sunrise Coffee Salute, a great book chat on Reading With Robin, and was written up in a handful of magazines (including our very own East Greenwich Monthly and NK View). These efforts helped tremendously and my book, one year later, is trickling through the ebb and flow of attention and sales.
One of the exciting things about being an author is that you just never know who is going to read your book. In early January, I was pleasantly surprised to learn that WPRI’s Meteorologist, Michelle Muscatello, had read it and enjoyed it so much that she thought I would make a fun guest for The Rhode Show, which airs on Fox from 8 – 9 AM Monday – Friday. Since I had never even attempted sending my book to their promotional department, this came as a huge surprise but a very exciting one. I was contacted on Wednesday, January 26th and booked for Monday, January 31st’s show.
I was nervous, excited, thrilled, scared to death and faced with every woman’s quandary—what the heck should I wear? I cannot tell a lie—I did go shopping that weekend to find the perfect outfit (translation—to find something that wouldn’t make me look a load of pounds heavier than I actually thought I was!). I hated everything I tried on not understanding why I had to go up a size (or two) than I had shopped for only the year before. Finally, I found a beautiful melon-colored sweater set with a pair of chocolate brown pants (anything to hide my spare tire) that I felt made me look trendy but like the mom next door! (Hey, I’m honest!)
Sunday night I could hardly sleep. I had to be at the Channel 12 Studio in East Providence by 7:30 AM and certainly didn’t want to be late for my TV debut. I was awake, showered and dressed by 6 AM and still managed to leave the house later than I wanted to thanks to the extra 10 minutes I spent scraping ice off my windshield.
I arrived without incident at 7:30 on the dot and was greeted by a couple of young interns from Bryant University. They were absolutely adorable and very welcoming and took my nerves from over the edge to a somewhat manageable state. Even better, one of them had read the back cover of my book jacket and enthusiastically commented on how neat it was that I had been published in several of the Chicken Soup for the Soul books. Channel 12 needs to hire that young lady!
Next I was whisked away to the Green Room, the “holding” room where guests of TV shows wait before they go on air. First, yes—it really is green! Second, low and behold who is sitting in the Green Room as a guest of the show that same morning? Andrew Nota! That name probably means nothing to you, but it just so happens I went to high school with him! He hasn’t changed a bit and he recognized me and told me he follows my Family Zone column! Only in Rhode Island folks!
If you’re not familiar with The Rhode Show, their format can easily be compared to The Today Show but they cover all things Rhode Island. The hosts are very down to earth and banter lightly back and forth at the beginning of the program and then they cover RI news, interesting events happening throughout the state, have several weather forecast reports, feature a cooking segment and have local artists, musicians, and authors appear throughout the week.
I walked in at the same time as the local chef that would be cooking buffalo nachos and deep-fried funyon rings! Let’s just say I wasn’t up for tasting bison at 8 AM, but it sure did smell—uh, interesting. What was more interesting was seeing the set. On TV, the kitchen looks 4 times larger than it really is. I was so intrigued with checking out all that went on backstage that I completely forgot about how nervous I was and whether or not my swanky new outfit was truly going disguise the 10 lbs the camera is known to add.
The ivory leather sectional that the hosts sit on is much tinier than it appears on camera, and although it looks as though they are sitting amongst a well-decorated family room—the couch itself is plopped on a very small stage which sits in the middle of a concrete room filled with TV cameras, lots of lights, wires, and two large TVs where the hosts can look to see when their cue will be given to start up each segment. I felt as though I was in a warehouse, but on screen, viewers would never realize that.
I was miked by 7:45 AM and actually went on air close to 8:30. Michelle Muscatello rushed right over (9 months pregnant, mind you!) and gave me a big hug and surprised me with the news that she would do the interview herself. One moment she was on air showing viewers how much snow they could expect in the next storm, (boo hiss) and seconds later she was sitting on the stool next to me where she was very engaging and warm which resulted in me feeling very relaxed without even trying. It truly was like sitting next to a girlfriend chatting about the obsessive world of pregnancy. I was told the interview would last from 2 – 3 minutes, and I remember thinking that there was just no possible way I could talk for that long. When Michelle finished the interview I remember laughing to myself, “Wait—there’s more, there’s so much more I want to tell everyone”.
And so, by 8:45 AM, I was driving out of the studio parking lot in my powder blue minivan, just beaming because I had been given this wonderful opportunity to chit chat about cabbage and how the book came to be. Soon after, my cell phone was ringing and my husband, mother and best friend had called to congratulate me. I was on Cloud 9. I met my dear friend (who just so happens to be my OB/GYN’s wife) at a coffee shop close to the studio to celebrate—wondering if anyone would recognize me from my big debut. Well, Bonnie recognized me, and treated me to a delicious quiche but other than that, there were no fans stalking my car or crowded in my driveway when I returned home later that day. That afternoon I went food shopping at Walmart and secretly (and shamelessly) wondered again if I would be recognized. Finally—I heard my name, but alas it was the girl I’ve come to know well at the Deli, “Hey good news—we have that sandwich pepperoni in stock again that you love!” And with that, my 10 minutes of fame was no more.
I’ve saved the best for last—watching the link that the producer sent me later that day. Remember now, I’m a mother of eight, was due to have my hair cut and highlighted the week AFTER I was on TV, and had painstakingly shopped for the perfect ensemble that wouldn’t make me look too tired and haggard. That said—I hit play and peeked from behind my two hands as I watched myself on camera.
So, what did I think?
Given that I only had 2 minutes to talk, I was very happy with how the actual interview went, including my unplanned giggle in reference to pregnant women choosing their St. Paddy’s day menu very carefully. How did I think I looked on camera you ask? The melon sweater definitely complimented my red cheeks but did nothing to cover my triple chins. The chocolate brown pants were swell, but I think they shouted out “yes, isn’t it obvious, she loves chocolate—hence the extra 30 lbs.” Sigh. I know I am my own worst critic, so I had to keep that in mind as I watched one more time and then promptly joined Weight Watchers the following day. “Hello, my name is Cheryl and the camera didn’t just add 10 lbs, it added more like 30.”
On the plus side—guess what—the group leader said? “Hey, I loved watching you on The Rhode Show yesterday! Where can I get your book?”
Wednesday, March 2, 2011
In Pursuit of the “Mom Cave”
It’s obvious that Mother Nature is taking no prisoners this winter but I sure as heck wish she’d take me! This raw, snow-laden winter we’re coming off of (sorry neighbors—there’s nothing I can do about the Christmas decorations still frozen to my front lawn) is wreaking havoc on that precious gift God gave me when I eagerly signed up for motherhood—my sanity.
Sure I knew it wouldn’t always be a picnic, but c’mon—it’s hard enough entertaining them during the blissful, balmy months of summer. It’s just not fair toying with a bunch of decent, hardworking, overtired group of mothers’ fragile states by throwing in nearly a week’s worth of unplanned snow days that we had to survive now too!
My husband, away on business during the week, would innocently call home to see how everything was going. If he caught me at a good time (say 2 AM after the shoveling, 6 piles of wet snow laundry, 5 extra snow meal preparations, did I mention shoveling, on top of the usual Nirvana that we housewives live to tell about each day) my response wasn’t overly hostile. Other than that—my children were instructed not to answer the phone!
Yes, this winter more than any other got me to thinking about that term “you can run but you can’t hide”. In our house, that’s an understatement—with 10 people living in less than 3000 square feet of coping space, hiding just isn’t an option—for me at least. When the kids want some space they quickly retreat to the privacy of their bedrooms. My husband has his own den (small as it is) or the bathroom (did I say that?) for his escapes, but I have absolutely no place to call my own. Even our dog can sneak away and hide under the dining room table for heaven’s sake. If the four-legged members of this family can have a spot to find some respite, so should the woman who scratches her belly. That said, I decided it was high time to find my own quiet retreat. Yes—it’s time this house had a “mom cave”.
With a new purpose for which to live, I quickly began searching our homestead for the perfect place to call my own. I knew it wouldn’t be easy to uncover a dusty corner or hole that no one else had yet laid claim to, but always the optimist, I wouldn’t give up until I found some little box to call mine.
As I started scouring our property, (with great promise, mind you) I got as far as the linen closet when the first dose of reality hit…… “Mom—why do you let Annie go in our room? She spilled all our nail polish!” And then….. “Who stole the rest of the Reese’s Puff’s?” Distracted but not discouraged I keep to the task at hand, hunting for any little snippet of space I can transform into my very own hideout. The grumbling in the background continued which only made me more determined to locate any remotely possible nook in this place.
With limited space to choose from, my bedroom was the logical choice but then again, with our king-sized bed already in there, how could I possibly fit my well-deserved mom toys as well? I mean, the typical man cave is well equipped with a wet bar, a couple of comfy recliners, a pool table, dart boards, a home-theatre system, a mini fridge, a stuffed bear head mounted above the flat screen and a coffee table strewn with a plethora of TV remotes and a little silver bell to ring for service as needed. Nah, the bedroom is definitely not going to work. There’s only room for a bell, and I know someone will end up just taking it.
Thinking outside the box I am drawn to the idea of the asymmetrical closet under our stairs, but wait, we lost that to the big floods last March. Next, there’s the oversized walk-in closet in our mudroom, oh, forgot, we never did add that when we did our renovations. Maybe the shed in the backyard? Absolutely not—the Spanish tile still hasn’t been laid yet. Then again, there’s always my car. Now I’m on to something—a “mobile mom cave”! I could just hop in and drive to a quiet little refuge like the grocery store or the kid’s baseball practice. Forgot—I do that on a weekly basis anyway.
The pursuit of my very own “mom cave” was a bit more challenging than I had originally thought, but the possibility of someday having an exclusive sanctuary where I can simply sneak away for even 10 minutes to enjoy some peace and quiet or to wolf down an entire bag of potato chips with nobody watching is exhilarating enough to keep me searching. For now, I will resort to the “mom cave” that is available to me at a moment’s notice, my God-given mind. No matter how many snow days or other uncontrollable moments come my way, I can always escape to the great upstairs and temporarily drift away to thoughts and feelings that are exclusively all mine!
Sure I knew it wouldn’t always be a picnic, but c’mon—it’s hard enough entertaining them during the blissful, balmy months of summer. It’s just not fair toying with a bunch of decent, hardworking, overtired group of mothers’ fragile states by throwing in nearly a week’s worth of unplanned snow days that we had to survive now too!
My husband, away on business during the week, would innocently call home to see how everything was going. If he caught me at a good time (say 2 AM after the shoveling, 6 piles of wet snow laundry, 5 extra snow meal preparations, did I mention shoveling, on top of the usual Nirvana that we housewives live to tell about each day) my response wasn’t overly hostile. Other than that—my children were instructed not to answer the phone!
Yes, this winter more than any other got me to thinking about that term “you can run but you can’t hide”. In our house, that’s an understatement—with 10 people living in less than 3000 square feet of coping space, hiding just isn’t an option—for me at least. When the kids want some space they quickly retreat to the privacy of their bedrooms. My husband has his own den (small as it is) or the bathroom (did I say that?) for his escapes, but I have absolutely no place to call my own. Even our dog can sneak away and hide under the dining room table for heaven’s sake. If the four-legged members of this family can have a spot to find some respite, so should the woman who scratches her belly. That said, I decided it was high time to find my own quiet retreat. Yes—it’s time this house had a “mom cave”.
With a new purpose for which to live, I quickly began searching our homestead for the perfect place to call my own. I knew it wouldn’t be easy to uncover a dusty corner or hole that no one else had yet laid claim to, but always the optimist, I wouldn’t give up until I found some little box to call mine.
As I started scouring our property, (with great promise, mind you) I got as far as the linen closet when the first dose of reality hit…… “Mom—why do you let Annie go in our room? She spilled all our nail polish!” And then….. “Who stole the rest of the Reese’s Puff’s?” Distracted but not discouraged I keep to the task at hand, hunting for any little snippet of space I can transform into my very own hideout. The grumbling in the background continued which only made me more determined to locate any remotely possible nook in this place.
With limited space to choose from, my bedroom was the logical choice but then again, with our king-sized bed already in there, how could I possibly fit my well-deserved mom toys as well? I mean, the typical man cave is well equipped with a wet bar, a couple of comfy recliners, a pool table, dart boards, a home-theatre system, a mini fridge, a stuffed bear head mounted above the flat screen and a coffee table strewn with a plethora of TV remotes and a little silver bell to ring for service as needed. Nah, the bedroom is definitely not going to work. There’s only room for a bell, and I know someone will end up just taking it.
Thinking outside the box I am drawn to the idea of the asymmetrical closet under our stairs, but wait, we lost that to the big floods last March. Next, there’s the oversized walk-in closet in our mudroom, oh, forgot, we never did add that when we did our renovations. Maybe the shed in the backyard? Absolutely not—the Spanish tile still hasn’t been laid yet. Then again, there’s always my car. Now I’m on to something—a “mobile mom cave”! I could just hop in and drive to a quiet little refuge like the grocery store or the kid’s baseball practice. Forgot—I do that on a weekly basis anyway.
The pursuit of my very own “mom cave” was a bit more challenging than I had originally thought, but the possibility of someday having an exclusive sanctuary where I can simply sneak away for even 10 minutes to enjoy some peace and quiet or to wolf down an entire bag of potato chips with nobody watching is exhilarating enough to keep me searching. For now, I will resort to the “mom cave” that is available to me at a moment’s notice, my God-given mind. No matter how many snow days or other uncontrollable moments come my way, I can always escape to the great upstairs and temporarily drift away to thoughts and feelings that are exclusively all mine!
Monday, January 31, 2011
How Do I Love Thee, Let Me Count The Ways!
There’s no denying it—February is here and love is in the air. It’s also pulsating through cyber space. Remember when we would have to pick up the phone to “reach out and touch someone”? Now we grab our sophisticated texting devices or sit down at our laptops when we want to communicate with friends and loved ones.
With Valentine’s Day just a heartbeat away, it’s the perfect time to start feeling the love and reminisce romance and sweet nothings from Valentine’s past. Thanks to the hottest trend on the Internet today—Facebook, friends both near and far were able to share their fondest, funniest and most intimate memories for this Valentine’s tribute.
Why not go make yourself a comforting mug of creamy hot chocolate or pour yourself a glass of your favorite wine and take the next few minutes to read about these delightfully special and romantic (well, most of them!) recollections of heart day!
Will You Marry Me?
· Valentine’s Day certainly sets the perfect setting to exchange “I Do’s” as Sherri and Todd from Saunderstown can attest. “On Feb 14, 1993, during a blizzard in Lincoln, NH, we got hitched. Yup, crazy kids that we were, we eloped! (And my Mother-in-law still holds it against me 18 yrs later! Just kidding!),” smiles Sherri.“To celebrate our anniversary, we never go out to dinner for the special day (always too crazy), but we have gone from putting the kids to bed early for "date night" to including them in our celebration, always filet mignon and baked stuffed potatoes cooked by my awesome Hubby--that's the best gift”! “Out of these past 18 yrs there were two times that we deviated from the above and spent Valentine’s Day weekend at our favorite Inn up in Freeport Maine having an intimate dinner followed by midnight shopping at LL Bean--very romantic,” Sherri laughs.“It’s not necessarily about romance, though. Whether you're spending it with your significant other, your kids, or a group of close friends, it doesn't matter what you do as long as you're celebrating LOVE!
There’s more where that came from—read on.
· Carolika from Narragansett shares, “My best Valentine’s Day was in 1987 when my now hubby, Gary proposed to me in Farmington CT. “Let's just say I knew it was going to happen by his expression and giddiness all day! Back during Christmas in 1986 he pretended to propose to me in front of my entire family. He handed me a small box (empty!) and got down on one knee and did this twice until my Nana chased him around the house hitting him with a roll of wrapping paper! So when the big day came, he took me out to a romantic dinner, and I kept looking for a ring in my wine glass, in the food (as he had each covered with a plate to slowly reveal the food underneath) to tease me I think. Finally, after dessert was served I thought I was mistaken and that no proposal was coming. Then, he handed me a framed poem titled "I just knew" and he proposed,” she reflects with great love.
And still more……
· “My everlasting memory would be the surprise trip we took to Disney leaving on Valentine's Day. When we arrived at the Ticket and Transportation center he had his marriage proposal written on a brick outside of the Magic Kingdom! He bought the brick in August of 98 to make sure it was in place by Feb 1999 and it said--"Christine, will u marry me? I love u Matt"! These lovebirds are happily married today and live in Saunderstown with their two young children.
· Sheila Lemont from East Greenwich shares some heartfelt thoughts about Valentine’s Day that will definitely require you grab a Kleenex or two! “One Valentine’s Day, John brought me to the seawall in Narragansett-- one of our favorite places. It was cold but sunny. As we stared out at the calm ocean, John told me he had waited his whole life for me and wanted to marry me. Never one for being serious too long, John soon had me laughing hysterically. No matter what life brings our way, John can always make me laugh. Love alone cannot keep a marriage strong, and I am fortunate John realizes this. We have experienced enough in life to know that being each other’s best friend and having utmost respect for one another is essential, a marriage cannot survive without these things. John tells me often that I am all he has ever needed, it still melts me. The romantic cards, flowers and beautiful jewelry he gives are very sweet and thoughtful. But the words he spoke that day on the seawall are the foundation of our marriage; he is a man of conviction and he is devoted. We are blessed to have the love and respect of our children and families. Our picture is complete.”
My Funny Valentine
· I'm probably one of the few wives who tries to talk her husband out of buying roses on Valentine’s day, (they are ridiculously priced at this time of year), but Ron usually buys them anyway. One day he was at the florist waiting in line with a bunch of other husbands and he spotted a cactus on the top shelf with about a 12" stalk and two round cacti on the side of it! He grabbed it and jokingly said to the others waiting in line to pay, “I might as well buy this too—could be symbolic of when a husband gets the shaft!” He and the other men laughed the entire time they were waiting to buy those $90 roses and he even had offers from the others to buy it from him! We still have that cactus and although it has sprouted other growths over the years, we still laugh when we look at it,” shares Tina Chofay from Narragansett.
· Jack from East Providence gladly shares one of his favorite memories. “Betsy and I had reservations at a restaurant in Newport for a romantic Valentine’s dinner. She was meeting me there after work. I arrived early and had a bottle of wine waiting at our table and her favorite appetizer, chilled jumbo shrimp cocktail. Before the waiter could pour the first glass of wine, I saw a woman stagger into the restaurant, lose her balance, trip and then fall. When she stood up, there I saw my wife but looking about 20lbs heavier. She found out we were expecting and wanted to surprise me by walking in with a big pillow stuffed under her shirt! Sadly, she lost her balance when she tried to get to our table and thus fell before she could even tell me! Thankfully, she only ended up with a sprained ankle and a bruised ego, but 7 months later our daughter, Natasha, was born. As a funny reminder, each year I buy her some type of pillow,” grinned Jack.
· “I have had two colonoscopies that were scheduled on Valentine’s Day. My joke is that the doc did his thing and did not even give me a kiss on the cheek afterward!” Anonymous from South County
The Power of Love
· “My best Valentine’s Day is the one that has yet to come. We seem to have lost the true meaning of Valentine’s Day by allowing it to become a Hallmark holiday where love is measured by the cost of roses or an expensive dinner. Money should never be the measurement of affection.”“Love is not only expressed in actions but it is also three of the most powerful words in the human language. To tell someone you love them gives another courage and hope. To tell someone you love them when they’re at their worst tells that person that your love is unconditional. My best Valentine’s Day will be the day that I’m told that I’m loved unconditionally. That day may be next week, next year, or possibly never but I will always be hopeful that any day and at any time I will have my “Best Valentine’s Day,” poignantly reflected by an anonymous and very insightful friend in South County.
· Deb from South County sure knows the true meaning of Valentine’s Day. “I have had some wonderful Valentine Days and those days have usually revolved around the children as part of our celebration. One special memory was taking my youngest daughter to Euro Disney where we spent V day at the Eiffel Tower with snowflakes whirling around us. Another year, we did fondues of all types with a table full of red hearts and cinnamon candles. But the most romantic V Day I can remember was last year. My sweet p-hubby and I took two of our girls to NYC for the evening. We dressed to the nines (whatever that really means!), dined at the traditional Swizz restaurant beginning our meal with Raclette cheese and finishing up with assorted swiss chocolates. We then went to the Met where we had front row center seats to see the opera, Carmine. Ending the night at Ellen's Stardust was just the perfect conclusion to a most romantic evening with three of my favorite people!”
· Fun loving Rita from Warwick remembers back to 1998 when she was scheduled for a pretty serious medical test a few days after Valentine’s Day so she and her hubby celebrated especially big that year with an expensive dinner, exotic drinks, flowers, candy—the whole 9 yards. Speaking of nine—their son Casey was born nine months later and now they joke that his mellow personality is probably a result of Rita getting pregnant just days before on Valentine’s Day and having that big test which she had to be sedated for not realizing she was expecting!
All You Need is Love
· Luscious from Narragansett lovingly remembers, “Years ago my sweet husband booked a great B&B in Newport, complete with roses and a bottle of champagne. We went out to dinner and walked around Newport. It was just lovely. The first Valentine’s Day we were together, however, he went to a basketball game that night without me and a good friend of mine nicely let him have it, so I think he realizes that wasn’t such a good move and he hasn’t repeated anything like that ever since!”
· “In 1997 my youngest daughter Haley, then 2 years old, was admitted to a hospital in Virginia for an illness caused by a strep throat infection that was not properly diagnosed by her doctor. I spent several days and nights by her side, never leaving the hospital. The 14th day of February happened to be one of those days. It also happened our 10th anniversary would be coming up that April, so my husband, then the very romantic man I once knew (ha ha) brought me a dozen roses and a beautiful strand of pearls along with matching earrings. My daughter’s recovery began on that day as well, which makes it my fondest memory of any Valentine,” Debbie Albertson, Warwick
A Family Affair
· One of our playful moms from Saunderstown had a special Valentine’s tradition for when her kids were younger. “For years and years when my three kids came down to breakfast they each had a little Valentines bag of goodies waiting for them on the dining room table complete with a handmade card that I would make for them. They loved this! I suppose it would be a little creepy to give my son who is now a senior in high school a card asking him to be my Valentine, but back in the day, they would beam when they opened cards from their dear old mom! Having unconditional love for children and family members can sure be hard work, but with heartfelt sincerity, without it, we’d all be lost!”
· Jeanne from Warwick candidly shares that a milestone Valentine came shortly after separating from her husband and it stands out not because she was sad but because she didn’t spend it wishing she was alone “Well, come to think of it, I wasn't alone after all. I was with my son and two of his friends and my friend Rita in a hotel in Boston. We were two moms who took their kids for a fun Valentine’s Day away, and we even qualified for the double room rate,” she giggles! We had such a great time, and I think it will be one we’ll remember for years to come.”
· Roger eagerly told of his “mystery gifts” each Valentine’s Day. “I’m 60 years old and have never been married but I still enjoy Valentine’s Day just as much as those who have a sweetheart. Every year I buy several gift cards to the movies, restaurants or local shops and anonymously mail them to members of my family or dear friends. To this day, I don’t think anyone has figured out it’s me that has been doing this. I like to refer to myself as The Phantom of St. Valentine’s Day,” he says with a mischievous laugh!
How Sweet it is
· This next Valentine idea is definitely not par for the course! “Before children and marriage, my now husband invited me to his house where he had set up a "romantic" 9-hole mini golf course throughout the entire house! He made up instruction cards (heart shaped of course) for each hole. Hole # 5 was called "Tunnel of Love--Hang on for this Ride”! With a notation on the card—“make it through and your thirst will be quenched!” It came complete with a bottle of wine! The entire course was set up with sweet, whimsical cards like that. It had to be the most creative, romantic thing anyone has ever done for me for Valentine's Day,” gushes anonymous from Narragansett!
· Tammy from Exeter put it bluntly and has taken all the guess work out of Valentine’s Day shopping for her guy. “I have a sweet tooth the size of Texas! When my husband and I started dating 25 years ago, I made it easy on him. I told him to never worry about what to buy me each year on heart day and just buy chocolate! I never met a piece of chocolate I didn’t like and he’s never disappointed me because each year, he finds a new sweet shop to buy from and although I know I can count on getting a delicious box of candy, I am always surprised at where it will come from.” Amen to that, Tammy!
It’s the Thought That Counts
It’s happened to most of us—we are presented with a beautifully wrapped package from our special someone and with our heart racing and fingers trembling in anticipation of what we are about to open, we simply cannot believe our eyes when we tear back the soft, pink tissue paper and a gift like Richard Simmons Sweatin to the Oldies exercise tapes are staring us back in the face! Bummer—what should have been that elegant diamond necklace was a hidden message—“You’re in lousy shape, here’s a way to do something about it”.
Don’t despair—you’re not alone.
· Patty from West Greenwich will never forget the 2nd Valentine’s Day she and her husband celebrated together. “I could barely lift the package off the table to unwrap it. He used the cutest wrapping paper—puppies wearing red heart sweaters. As I started to tear off the paper, something made a sound. No—it wasn’t a puppy, it was a talking bathroom scale! He got peanut butter and jelly for dinner for the next month,” she chuckled.
· Elizabeth, formerly from North Kingstown, recalls the year she received none other than an Earth Worm Farm, complete with a manual on how to select the best manure for a successful compost pile. “I don’t even like plants, never mind trying to have the ripest fertilizer on the block,” confesses Elizabeth. “We broke up soon after and I learned years later that he married a veterinarian.
· Missy couldn’t believe the year she opened her first 5-lb heart-shaped box of chocolates. “It was one of those beautiful satin boxes lined with deep, red velvet. I’d always wanted a big box of truffles that I could stash away on the top of my bedroom dresser for those times when I just wanted a sweet pick me up. Too bad when I opened it over half the chocolates were missing! My boyfriend at the time said he didn’t think I’d mind because I should never have been eating all those myself anyway!”
This year, it is estimated that the average consumer will spend at least $103 on cards, special gifts and anything else in between to make Valentine’s Day meaningful for those they love. It’s obvious after listening to the deliciously sweet memories shared from our generous friends here that no matter who is involved—lovers, children or dear friends, that love is the Universal language shared by all on this day and there will never be a price tag high enough to place on that.
With Valentine’s Day just a heartbeat away, it’s the perfect time to start feeling the love and reminisce romance and sweet nothings from Valentine’s past. Thanks to the hottest trend on the Internet today—Facebook, friends both near and far were able to share their fondest, funniest and most intimate memories for this Valentine’s tribute.
Why not go make yourself a comforting mug of creamy hot chocolate or pour yourself a glass of your favorite wine and take the next few minutes to read about these delightfully special and romantic (well, most of them!) recollections of heart day!
Will You Marry Me?
· Valentine’s Day certainly sets the perfect setting to exchange “I Do’s” as Sherri and Todd from Saunderstown can attest. “On Feb 14, 1993, during a blizzard in Lincoln, NH, we got hitched. Yup, crazy kids that we were, we eloped! (And my Mother-in-law still holds it against me 18 yrs later! Just kidding!),” smiles Sherri.“To celebrate our anniversary, we never go out to dinner for the special day (always too crazy), but we have gone from putting the kids to bed early for "date night" to including them in our celebration, always filet mignon and baked stuffed potatoes cooked by my awesome Hubby--that's the best gift”! “Out of these past 18 yrs there were two times that we deviated from the above and spent Valentine’s Day weekend at our favorite Inn up in Freeport Maine having an intimate dinner followed by midnight shopping at LL Bean--very romantic,” Sherri laughs.“It’s not necessarily about romance, though. Whether you're spending it with your significant other, your kids, or a group of close friends, it doesn't matter what you do as long as you're celebrating LOVE!
There’s more where that came from—read on.
· Carolika from Narragansett shares, “My best Valentine’s Day was in 1987 when my now hubby, Gary proposed to me in Farmington CT. “Let's just say I knew it was going to happen by his expression and giddiness all day! Back during Christmas in 1986 he pretended to propose to me in front of my entire family. He handed me a small box (empty!) and got down on one knee and did this twice until my Nana chased him around the house hitting him with a roll of wrapping paper! So when the big day came, he took me out to a romantic dinner, and I kept looking for a ring in my wine glass, in the food (as he had each covered with a plate to slowly reveal the food underneath) to tease me I think. Finally, after dessert was served I thought I was mistaken and that no proposal was coming. Then, he handed me a framed poem titled "I just knew" and he proposed,” she reflects with great love.
And still more……
· “My everlasting memory would be the surprise trip we took to Disney leaving on Valentine's Day. When we arrived at the Ticket and Transportation center he had his marriage proposal written on a brick outside of the Magic Kingdom! He bought the brick in August of 98 to make sure it was in place by Feb 1999 and it said--"Christine, will u marry me? I love u Matt"! These lovebirds are happily married today and live in Saunderstown with their two young children.
· Sheila Lemont from East Greenwich shares some heartfelt thoughts about Valentine’s Day that will definitely require you grab a Kleenex or two! “One Valentine’s Day, John brought me to the seawall in Narragansett-- one of our favorite places. It was cold but sunny. As we stared out at the calm ocean, John told me he had waited his whole life for me and wanted to marry me. Never one for being serious too long, John soon had me laughing hysterically. No matter what life brings our way, John can always make me laugh. Love alone cannot keep a marriage strong, and I am fortunate John realizes this. We have experienced enough in life to know that being each other’s best friend and having utmost respect for one another is essential, a marriage cannot survive without these things. John tells me often that I am all he has ever needed, it still melts me. The romantic cards, flowers and beautiful jewelry he gives are very sweet and thoughtful. But the words he spoke that day on the seawall are the foundation of our marriage; he is a man of conviction and he is devoted. We are blessed to have the love and respect of our children and families. Our picture is complete.”
My Funny Valentine
· I'm probably one of the few wives who tries to talk her husband out of buying roses on Valentine’s day, (they are ridiculously priced at this time of year), but Ron usually buys them anyway. One day he was at the florist waiting in line with a bunch of other husbands and he spotted a cactus on the top shelf with about a 12" stalk and two round cacti on the side of it! He grabbed it and jokingly said to the others waiting in line to pay, “I might as well buy this too—could be symbolic of when a husband gets the shaft!” He and the other men laughed the entire time they were waiting to buy those $90 roses and he even had offers from the others to buy it from him! We still have that cactus and although it has sprouted other growths over the years, we still laugh when we look at it,” shares Tina Chofay from Narragansett.
· Jack from East Providence gladly shares one of his favorite memories. “Betsy and I had reservations at a restaurant in Newport for a romantic Valentine’s dinner. She was meeting me there after work. I arrived early and had a bottle of wine waiting at our table and her favorite appetizer, chilled jumbo shrimp cocktail. Before the waiter could pour the first glass of wine, I saw a woman stagger into the restaurant, lose her balance, trip and then fall. When she stood up, there I saw my wife but looking about 20lbs heavier. She found out we were expecting and wanted to surprise me by walking in with a big pillow stuffed under her shirt! Sadly, she lost her balance when she tried to get to our table and thus fell before she could even tell me! Thankfully, she only ended up with a sprained ankle and a bruised ego, but 7 months later our daughter, Natasha, was born. As a funny reminder, each year I buy her some type of pillow,” grinned Jack.
· “I have had two colonoscopies that were scheduled on Valentine’s Day. My joke is that the doc did his thing and did not even give me a kiss on the cheek afterward!” Anonymous from South County
The Power of Love
· “My best Valentine’s Day is the one that has yet to come. We seem to have lost the true meaning of Valentine’s Day by allowing it to become a Hallmark holiday where love is measured by the cost of roses or an expensive dinner. Money should never be the measurement of affection.”“Love is not only expressed in actions but it is also three of the most powerful words in the human language. To tell someone you love them gives another courage and hope. To tell someone you love them when they’re at their worst tells that person that your love is unconditional. My best Valentine’s Day will be the day that I’m told that I’m loved unconditionally. That day may be next week, next year, or possibly never but I will always be hopeful that any day and at any time I will have my “Best Valentine’s Day,” poignantly reflected by an anonymous and very insightful friend in South County.
· Deb from South County sure knows the true meaning of Valentine’s Day. “I have had some wonderful Valentine Days and those days have usually revolved around the children as part of our celebration. One special memory was taking my youngest daughter to Euro Disney where we spent V day at the Eiffel Tower with snowflakes whirling around us. Another year, we did fondues of all types with a table full of red hearts and cinnamon candles. But the most romantic V Day I can remember was last year. My sweet p-hubby and I took two of our girls to NYC for the evening. We dressed to the nines (whatever that really means!), dined at the traditional Swizz restaurant beginning our meal with Raclette cheese and finishing up with assorted swiss chocolates. We then went to the Met where we had front row center seats to see the opera, Carmine. Ending the night at Ellen's Stardust was just the perfect conclusion to a most romantic evening with three of my favorite people!”
· Fun loving Rita from Warwick remembers back to 1998 when she was scheduled for a pretty serious medical test a few days after Valentine’s Day so she and her hubby celebrated especially big that year with an expensive dinner, exotic drinks, flowers, candy—the whole 9 yards. Speaking of nine—their son Casey was born nine months later and now they joke that his mellow personality is probably a result of Rita getting pregnant just days before on Valentine’s Day and having that big test which she had to be sedated for not realizing she was expecting!
All You Need is Love
· Luscious from Narragansett lovingly remembers, “Years ago my sweet husband booked a great B&B in Newport, complete with roses and a bottle of champagne. We went out to dinner and walked around Newport. It was just lovely. The first Valentine’s Day we were together, however, he went to a basketball game that night without me and a good friend of mine nicely let him have it, so I think he realizes that wasn’t such a good move and he hasn’t repeated anything like that ever since!”
· “In 1997 my youngest daughter Haley, then 2 years old, was admitted to a hospital in Virginia for an illness caused by a strep throat infection that was not properly diagnosed by her doctor. I spent several days and nights by her side, never leaving the hospital. The 14th day of February happened to be one of those days. It also happened our 10th anniversary would be coming up that April, so my husband, then the very romantic man I once knew (ha ha) brought me a dozen roses and a beautiful strand of pearls along with matching earrings. My daughter’s recovery began on that day as well, which makes it my fondest memory of any Valentine,” Debbie Albertson, Warwick
A Family Affair
· One of our playful moms from Saunderstown had a special Valentine’s tradition for when her kids were younger. “For years and years when my three kids came down to breakfast they each had a little Valentines bag of goodies waiting for them on the dining room table complete with a handmade card that I would make for them. They loved this! I suppose it would be a little creepy to give my son who is now a senior in high school a card asking him to be my Valentine, but back in the day, they would beam when they opened cards from their dear old mom! Having unconditional love for children and family members can sure be hard work, but with heartfelt sincerity, without it, we’d all be lost!”
· Jeanne from Warwick candidly shares that a milestone Valentine came shortly after separating from her husband and it stands out not because she was sad but because she didn’t spend it wishing she was alone “Well, come to think of it, I wasn't alone after all. I was with my son and two of his friends and my friend Rita in a hotel in Boston. We were two moms who took their kids for a fun Valentine’s Day away, and we even qualified for the double room rate,” she giggles! We had such a great time, and I think it will be one we’ll remember for years to come.”
· Roger eagerly told of his “mystery gifts” each Valentine’s Day. “I’m 60 years old and have never been married but I still enjoy Valentine’s Day just as much as those who have a sweetheart. Every year I buy several gift cards to the movies, restaurants or local shops and anonymously mail them to members of my family or dear friends. To this day, I don’t think anyone has figured out it’s me that has been doing this. I like to refer to myself as The Phantom of St. Valentine’s Day,” he says with a mischievous laugh!
How Sweet it is
· This next Valentine idea is definitely not par for the course! “Before children and marriage, my now husband invited me to his house where he had set up a "romantic" 9-hole mini golf course throughout the entire house! He made up instruction cards (heart shaped of course) for each hole. Hole # 5 was called "Tunnel of Love--Hang on for this Ride”! With a notation on the card—“make it through and your thirst will be quenched!” It came complete with a bottle of wine! The entire course was set up with sweet, whimsical cards like that. It had to be the most creative, romantic thing anyone has ever done for me for Valentine's Day,” gushes anonymous from Narragansett!
· Tammy from Exeter put it bluntly and has taken all the guess work out of Valentine’s Day shopping for her guy. “I have a sweet tooth the size of Texas! When my husband and I started dating 25 years ago, I made it easy on him. I told him to never worry about what to buy me each year on heart day and just buy chocolate! I never met a piece of chocolate I didn’t like and he’s never disappointed me because each year, he finds a new sweet shop to buy from and although I know I can count on getting a delicious box of candy, I am always surprised at where it will come from.” Amen to that, Tammy!
It’s the Thought That Counts
It’s happened to most of us—we are presented with a beautifully wrapped package from our special someone and with our heart racing and fingers trembling in anticipation of what we are about to open, we simply cannot believe our eyes when we tear back the soft, pink tissue paper and a gift like Richard Simmons Sweatin to the Oldies exercise tapes are staring us back in the face! Bummer—what should have been that elegant diamond necklace was a hidden message—“You’re in lousy shape, here’s a way to do something about it”.
Don’t despair—you’re not alone.
· Patty from West Greenwich will never forget the 2nd Valentine’s Day she and her husband celebrated together. “I could barely lift the package off the table to unwrap it. He used the cutest wrapping paper—puppies wearing red heart sweaters. As I started to tear off the paper, something made a sound. No—it wasn’t a puppy, it was a talking bathroom scale! He got peanut butter and jelly for dinner for the next month,” she chuckled.
· Elizabeth, formerly from North Kingstown, recalls the year she received none other than an Earth Worm Farm, complete with a manual on how to select the best manure for a successful compost pile. “I don’t even like plants, never mind trying to have the ripest fertilizer on the block,” confesses Elizabeth. “We broke up soon after and I learned years later that he married a veterinarian.
· Missy couldn’t believe the year she opened her first 5-lb heart-shaped box of chocolates. “It was one of those beautiful satin boxes lined with deep, red velvet. I’d always wanted a big box of truffles that I could stash away on the top of my bedroom dresser for those times when I just wanted a sweet pick me up. Too bad when I opened it over half the chocolates were missing! My boyfriend at the time said he didn’t think I’d mind because I should never have been eating all those myself anyway!”
This year, it is estimated that the average consumer will spend at least $103 on cards, special gifts and anything else in between to make Valentine’s Day meaningful for those they love. It’s obvious after listening to the deliciously sweet memories shared from our generous friends here that no matter who is involved—lovers, children or dear friends, that love is the Universal language shared by all on this day and there will never be a price tag high enough to place on that.
Get Carded This Valentine's Day
On the rare occasion that I am out shopping alone or when I have a little leisure time and don’t have to crank my pacemaker up all the way to keep me from overheating on the days I’m scurrying from one errand to the next, one of my favorite ways to let loose is to head into town and try to get carded.
Although it’s no secret that I enjoy a glass of wine every now and again, I didn’t earn the nickname “Mama Merlot” for nothing, I’m not talking about my current fantasy of being asked to show proper ID at the liquor store. My days of having to furnish my license when I purchase anything fermented long passed since the birth of my 6th or 7th child (can’t remember now). My guess is the fact that I smelled like sour milk or had strained peas on my always present burp rag for well over a decade announced that not only was I of legal drinking age, but to please streamline the process so I could get home and uncork as soon as the kids were in bed. Nope—not that kind of carded—I’m talking something even better--browsing the glorious aisles of the greeting card section.
I have always been a paper person. For whatever reason, ever since I was a child I absolutely loved the touch, smell, feel and sound of paper. Whether it was brightly colored construction paper, a glossy magazine, or a crisp new book I simply adore and admire all that paper has to offer. Whenever friends or family have a birthday or other special occasion coming down the pike, selecting the right card is important to me. And so it began—my obsession with greeting cards.
Depending on my mood, the occasion and person I’m looking for, or the type of store I’m shopping in (there is an etiquette to getting carded you know) will determine how I behave while partaking in this hobby of mine. As a general rule of thumb, these are the guidelines I follow:
· Sympathy Cards—Out of respect to the recipient of this card, and to others perusing this section, it might be best to keep a somber manner as you choose your condolences, unless, of course, the card is for a dear friend who has finally had to put her favorite vacuum cleaner to rest.
· New Baby Cards—Feel free to giggle and guffaw over the cutesy sugar and spice and everything nice selection that awaits your pick. It is a joyous celebration, after all, and if it so happens that this is the couple’s first baby, and you’ve been there done that a few times, go easy on the “thoughtful advice” sentiments—don’t spoil their fun by announcing that sleep is overrated, stick to teddy bears and lullaby themes instead.
· Birthday Cards—Here’s where I absolutely lose control. There is an abundance of chuckles in this aisle and I say your behavior here is fair game. I happen to be a sucker for Hallmark’s witty, wise-cracking icon, Maxine! All I have to do is look at her and I laugh right out loud. Sure, you’ll find your share of serious, sappy ones to choose from as well, but if ever you need a little pick me—head right over to the birthday cards and don’t leave until you’ve managed to get others wondering what is making you laugh so hard.
· Inspirational Cards—Consider bringing a box of Kleenex along when you start to shuffle through this sector. You’ll no doubt notice all the tranquil and soothing artwork first, and then they’ll hit you—the thoughtful sonnets, poems, and versus that will let any friend in trouble know that they can and indeed must go on. If this in itself doesn’t make you cry, you can use that Kleenex to wipe away the tears once you discover it’s going to cost you at least an Abe Lincoln to purchase it.
· Thank You Cards—It’s no secret that I, Cheryl L. Butler, have always been a firm believer in the written thank you card—no matter what! When you flip your way through this portion of cards, I recommend putting on your “appreciation hat”. Is there someone who’s done something kind for you or your family that could stand to be recognized? C’mon, think now—your neighbor who baked you that delicious fruit cake for Christmas or who drove the carpool for 2 weeks while you recovered from bunion surgery perhaps? Whether your mother n law has gifted you with a photo tote bag sporting her mug, or you want to thank your child’s bus driver for the dozens of times she waited for little Jimmy who was late yet again, surely you can find a card that will express your undying gratitude.
· Cards with Sound—I’ve saved the best for last. With today’s savvy technology we are quite fortunate to have cards that whistle, light up, applaud, record our voices and of course, play hip music. Once you start flipping these auditory delights open, you may well not be able to stop yourself until you’ve listened to every last one. Go ahead and indulge! The worst that can happen is you disturb a few cranky shoppers in which case you can politely smile and ask which one they’d rather receive?
According to our friends at Hallmark, approximately 141 million cards are exchanged each year for Valentine’s Day. Whether you have a special someone, a dear friend that you cherish, or are just in the mood for some playful fun, the next time you have a few spare minutes why not head to your favorite store and try getting carded?
Although it’s no secret that I enjoy a glass of wine every now and again, I didn’t earn the nickname “Mama Merlot” for nothing, I’m not talking about my current fantasy of being asked to show proper ID at the liquor store. My days of having to furnish my license when I purchase anything fermented long passed since the birth of my 6th or 7th child (can’t remember now). My guess is the fact that I smelled like sour milk or had strained peas on my always present burp rag for well over a decade announced that not only was I of legal drinking age, but to please streamline the process so I could get home and uncork as soon as the kids were in bed. Nope—not that kind of carded—I’m talking something even better--browsing the glorious aisles of the greeting card section.
I have always been a paper person. For whatever reason, ever since I was a child I absolutely loved the touch, smell, feel and sound of paper. Whether it was brightly colored construction paper, a glossy magazine, or a crisp new book I simply adore and admire all that paper has to offer. Whenever friends or family have a birthday or other special occasion coming down the pike, selecting the right card is important to me. And so it began—my obsession with greeting cards.
Depending on my mood, the occasion and person I’m looking for, or the type of store I’m shopping in (there is an etiquette to getting carded you know) will determine how I behave while partaking in this hobby of mine. As a general rule of thumb, these are the guidelines I follow:
· Sympathy Cards—Out of respect to the recipient of this card, and to others perusing this section, it might be best to keep a somber manner as you choose your condolences, unless, of course, the card is for a dear friend who has finally had to put her favorite vacuum cleaner to rest.
· New Baby Cards—Feel free to giggle and guffaw over the cutesy sugar and spice and everything nice selection that awaits your pick. It is a joyous celebration, after all, and if it so happens that this is the couple’s first baby, and you’ve been there done that a few times, go easy on the “thoughtful advice” sentiments—don’t spoil their fun by announcing that sleep is overrated, stick to teddy bears and lullaby themes instead.
· Birthday Cards—Here’s where I absolutely lose control. There is an abundance of chuckles in this aisle and I say your behavior here is fair game. I happen to be a sucker for Hallmark’s witty, wise-cracking icon, Maxine! All I have to do is look at her and I laugh right out loud. Sure, you’ll find your share of serious, sappy ones to choose from as well, but if ever you need a little pick me—head right over to the birthday cards and don’t leave until you’ve managed to get others wondering what is making you laugh so hard.
· Inspirational Cards—Consider bringing a box of Kleenex along when you start to shuffle through this sector. You’ll no doubt notice all the tranquil and soothing artwork first, and then they’ll hit you—the thoughtful sonnets, poems, and versus that will let any friend in trouble know that they can and indeed must go on. If this in itself doesn’t make you cry, you can use that Kleenex to wipe away the tears once you discover it’s going to cost you at least an Abe Lincoln to purchase it.
· Thank You Cards—It’s no secret that I, Cheryl L. Butler, have always been a firm believer in the written thank you card—no matter what! When you flip your way through this portion of cards, I recommend putting on your “appreciation hat”. Is there someone who’s done something kind for you or your family that could stand to be recognized? C’mon, think now—your neighbor who baked you that delicious fruit cake for Christmas or who drove the carpool for 2 weeks while you recovered from bunion surgery perhaps? Whether your mother n law has gifted you with a photo tote bag sporting her mug, or you want to thank your child’s bus driver for the dozens of times she waited for little Jimmy who was late yet again, surely you can find a card that will express your undying gratitude.
· Cards with Sound—I’ve saved the best for last. With today’s savvy technology we are quite fortunate to have cards that whistle, light up, applaud, record our voices and of course, play hip music. Once you start flipping these auditory delights open, you may well not be able to stop yourself until you’ve listened to every last one. Go ahead and indulge! The worst that can happen is you disturb a few cranky shoppers in which case you can politely smile and ask which one they’d rather receive?
According to our friends at Hallmark, approximately 141 million cards are exchanged each year for Valentine’s Day. Whether you have a special someone, a dear friend that you cherish, or are just in the mood for some playful fun, the next time you have a few spare minutes why not head to your favorite store and try getting carded?
Friday, December 31, 2010
In 2011--Thou Shall Not Compare
It was a drizzly, dank day in early October, 1987 when we returned from our 2-week honeymoon to Acapulco and Disney World learning what true intimacy really meant after succumbing to a colorful stomach virus on stop one in Mexico—close quarters and newlywed dysentery are not a pretty sight! Wanting to get our new homestead up and running, I sauntered into the grocery store to grab a few pantry essentials and left with two carriages full of everything from Cornish game hens (no clue what they even were) to SOS pads (does anyone even use those today?).
As a 23-year old newlywed, I quickly learned that grocery shopping for two did not entitle me to spend nearly $300 a week for extra lean hamburger and other incidentals. After a few months of fresh veggies rotting faster than I could dice them, I swiftly mastered the brave art of consumer comparison shopping, which served us well because we were able to upgrade from our sweet, cottage starter home to a full-blown 6-bed Mediterranean Contemporary in a few short years. Oh, how I would give my monthly root touch-ups for all that closet space now!
That was one of my first vivid experiences with making comparisons. While noting the savings between one and two-ply toilet paper certainly paid off during the past 20 years, I found that some things just cannot and should not be compared—starting with spouses.
I’ve made it no secret that my handsome husband brought many things to the table when we become a couple, but being handy sure wasn’t one of them. On any given weekend, I’d see the other husbands in the neighborhood, tool belts armed and ready, tackling rickety gutters, securing loose shingles or even changing the oil in their own lawnmowers. Not my guy—bless his heart though, he would spend our days off accompanying me on shopping excursions, staying out of my way while I tackled home projects, or even visiting my family! Just because he will probably never own a ratchet wrench, so what, he’s a keeper!
Also keepers were the two cocker spaniels we got during the first month of our marriage. Never in a million years did we think we’d own a dog, never mind two, that would cost as much as one mortgage payment. But my heart couldn’t stop beating when I first laid eyes on them. Brian knew he was in trouble and didn’t even bother trying to talk me out of them. We were soon the proud parents of two yippy, nippy dogs that wet the floor the second anyone walked in the house. Although all the other pups in the hood seemed to actually obey commands and never stole food from the table, Chloe and Ashley were my special slices of comfort during six long years of infertility—so you know what—I wouldn’t have traded them for the best-behaved pooches in the world.
Now then, about that infertility bout I battled for years. Isn’t it always the way that when you want something so badly, everyone else around you seems to get what you want—effortlessly? While all my friends, family and every stranger I encountered at Wal-Mart was eagerly awaiting a visit from the stork, I was home making deals with the man above that if I were to get just one chance to become a mother, I’d never complain about anything, ever again. I didn’t realize it at the time, but I had the world by the tail. We both had great jobs, a dream home (including a pool boy!) and vacationed anywhere we wanted to for all those years that I spent crying beside an empty crib.
Ask and you shall receive. After the blessed adoption of our beautiful oldest daughter, and then seven babies later, my mission to become a mother was finally accomplished. Now what? Well, downsizing our living arrangements for starters. Losing one hefty income yet super-sizing our family in ten short years meant that designer dream home had to go. We moved to a simple raised ranch, and though we did lots of renovations and such, it wasn’t the mansion we had owned years earlier. Somehow it didn’t seem fair that families with one or two children had their own walk-in closets while we were wondering where to stack the next bunk bed, but what a great problem to have, more family members vs. available square footage.
And last, but not least, the children that I cried to have for all those years—they now have friends, cousins, and teammates that are superstar athletes, stellar students, gifted musicians, don’t have learning disabilities, and sport the latest electronic gadgets all while wearing the latest designer labels. You know where this is going, right? It’s hard to avoid noticing how everyone else’s kids don’t have the same struggles my kids do. Or do they? What a bummer to fall into the trap of wanting to make a child be something other than his own unique self.
Thankfully, a brand new year has arrived offering us yet another opportunity to mold and shape it with our dreams and goals but above all our actions. I know that I will have more ideas and desires than time will permit, but hopefully, in 2011, I will save my need to compare for when I am carousing the aisles of the grocery store, not when I’m thinking about my own or my family’s past or present accomplishments.
As a 23-year old newlywed, I quickly learned that grocery shopping for two did not entitle me to spend nearly $300 a week for extra lean hamburger and other incidentals. After a few months of fresh veggies rotting faster than I could dice them, I swiftly mastered the brave art of consumer comparison shopping, which served us well because we were able to upgrade from our sweet, cottage starter home to a full-blown 6-bed Mediterranean Contemporary in a few short years. Oh, how I would give my monthly root touch-ups for all that closet space now!
That was one of my first vivid experiences with making comparisons. While noting the savings between one and two-ply toilet paper certainly paid off during the past 20 years, I found that some things just cannot and should not be compared—starting with spouses.
I’ve made it no secret that my handsome husband brought many things to the table when we become a couple, but being handy sure wasn’t one of them. On any given weekend, I’d see the other husbands in the neighborhood, tool belts armed and ready, tackling rickety gutters, securing loose shingles or even changing the oil in their own lawnmowers. Not my guy—bless his heart though, he would spend our days off accompanying me on shopping excursions, staying out of my way while I tackled home projects, or even visiting my family! Just because he will probably never own a ratchet wrench, so what, he’s a keeper!
Also keepers were the two cocker spaniels we got during the first month of our marriage. Never in a million years did we think we’d own a dog, never mind two, that would cost as much as one mortgage payment. But my heart couldn’t stop beating when I first laid eyes on them. Brian knew he was in trouble and didn’t even bother trying to talk me out of them. We were soon the proud parents of two yippy, nippy dogs that wet the floor the second anyone walked in the house. Although all the other pups in the hood seemed to actually obey commands and never stole food from the table, Chloe and Ashley were my special slices of comfort during six long years of infertility—so you know what—I wouldn’t have traded them for the best-behaved pooches in the world.
Now then, about that infertility bout I battled for years. Isn’t it always the way that when you want something so badly, everyone else around you seems to get what you want—effortlessly? While all my friends, family and every stranger I encountered at Wal-Mart was eagerly awaiting a visit from the stork, I was home making deals with the man above that if I were to get just one chance to become a mother, I’d never complain about anything, ever again. I didn’t realize it at the time, but I had the world by the tail. We both had great jobs, a dream home (including a pool boy!) and vacationed anywhere we wanted to for all those years that I spent crying beside an empty crib.
Ask and you shall receive. After the blessed adoption of our beautiful oldest daughter, and then seven babies later, my mission to become a mother was finally accomplished. Now what? Well, downsizing our living arrangements for starters. Losing one hefty income yet super-sizing our family in ten short years meant that designer dream home had to go. We moved to a simple raised ranch, and though we did lots of renovations and such, it wasn’t the mansion we had owned years earlier. Somehow it didn’t seem fair that families with one or two children had their own walk-in closets while we were wondering where to stack the next bunk bed, but what a great problem to have, more family members vs. available square footage.
And last, but not least, the children that I cried to have for all those years—they now have friends, cousins, and teammates that are superstar athletes, stellar students, gifted musicians, don’t have learning disabilities, and sport the latest electronic gadgets all while wearing the latest designer labels. You know where this is going, right? It’s hard to avoid noticing how everyone else’s kids don’t have the same struggles my kids do. Or do they? What a bummer to fall into the trap of wanting to make a child be something other than his own unique self.
Thankfully, a brand new year has arrived offering us yet another opportunity to mold and shape it with our dreams and goals but above all our actions. I know that I will have more ideas and desires than time will permit, but hopefully, in 2011, I will save my need to compare for when I am carousing the aisles of the grocery store, not when I’m thinking about my own or my family’s past or present accomplishments.
Wednesday, December 1, 2010
Have Yourself a Merry Little Chapstick!
Typically, I don’t get overwhelmed very easily, I mean the fact that I forgot one of my sons at church last year and didn’t realize it until we were seated at home eating lunch only jangled my nerves for a few seconds and nearly a year later, he’s finally speaking to me and doesn’t feel the need to leave a poster-sized photo of himself on the dashboard. But during this time of year, when the pressure to pull off the most dazzling holiday your friends and mother n law will ever see, is thrust upon us even before The Statue of Liberty can put away her red, white, and blue—it’s nearly enough to bring me to my breaking point.
Each November I sit myself down for my annual self-to-self pep talk. With only three items on this morning’s to-do list--unclogging the blades of the dishwasher, making sock monkeys to give as gifts during these hard times (kidding, just kidding) and heading down to the drugstore to pick up some Chapstick for my son—non-flavored would be preferable he scribbled on a reminder note across my Centrum coupon, it seemed like I could get myself back on track by lunchtime.
Depending on what kind of a hair year I’m having or whether my extra chin can be disguised in a gently stretched out turtleneck, determines if this conversation will take place in front of a mirror or in the corner of my darkened laundry room. But wait, the laundry room is out this year because I’m holding a grudge against mine at the moment. Nothing big mind you, just a small inconvenience with our top-of-the-line front loading washer machine, the flapper on the pump, I believe went kaput. In my experience with this luxury contraption we’ve owned for a couple of long years, when something malfunctions it requires that the part be ordered from some remote warehouse in the farthest corner of the country, never someplace local. So this was the first test in the “Is she losing it yet?” department for the 2010 Holiday Season.
Surely it’s ok to start feeling a few little pangs of losing control when you have ten family members that need to be kept in clean underwear and other incidentals like sports uniforms, white socks, and fine jeans and you become so exhausted from farming out six loads a day that you turn your dream Jacuzzi into a makeshift Laundromat!
Back to that annual pep talk of mine. The bad hair year and the resentment I am still carrying towards my washer machine lead me to the next best place for this important conversation—my car. Here I could lock myself in, turn on some peppy rendition of jingle bells and start feeling the holiday love once again. Oops—I Forgot! I now have two teenagers who drive. Suddenly, mom’s minivan is a super cool set of wheels, especially when it has a full tank of gas and can be driven with me left far behind. Sigh.
Not one to give up, I decided to give my bathroom a try—a tranquil place I could spend a few therapeutic moments alone. It’s the last place anyone would look for me because in 23 years, I’ve probably only spent a grand total of an hour in there for whatever reason. Drat—that’s no good either. The master bath is where I hide many of the Christmas gifts. Why do you think we paid good money for an oversized Jacuzzi? If it weren’t for the use it has gotten as a washer machine or a stellar hiding place for a solid six weeks every year, then I think my husband would still be crying over that installation. With stocking stuffers and a gazillion rolls of wrapping paper peeking at me, I couldn’t possibly have a heart-to-heart with myself about how to sit back and relax during this holiday season in there.
After the dinner dishes were done, compliments of the newly, unclogged dishwasher blades, I sat down to look at our family holiday greeting cards that I picked up when I forgot to buy the non-flavored Chapstick earlier that day. Eerily, there wasn’t a single child, husband or pet trying to get my attention while I admired my painstaking handy work of getting 8 children to smile at the same time during this year’s obligatory family pose.
Despite the craziness this time of year brings, I have always enjoyed handwriting nearly 100 Christmas cards to friends and family for the sheer reason of wanting to stay connected during the holidays, not to brag about my Ivy League ability to jerry rig the Jacuzzi into our second washing machine. For me, taking that time to reach out to people I really care about (ok, well, most of them) defines the true meaning of the season.
My son walked in just as I tucked the photo cards away and I realized that I had just managed to pull off my annual pep talk without even trying. I may have forgotten to buy his Chapstick but I was relieved that I hadn’t completely forgotten why this time of year is so special. Before I know it, the holiday tunes will be gone, my sacred hiding places will be empty, the last of the decorations will be stowed up in the attic, and sooner than I care to think about, my family will be grown and gone and these harried holiday rushes will be just a memory.
On that note, I headed straight to the drugstore to buy a few tubes of Chapstick. One non-flavored for my son, and some extras to keep around as a reminder that the holidays aren’t about rushing around and putting on a good show, they are about spending time with those that you care about.
Each November I sit myself down for my annual self-to-self pep talk. With only three items on this morning’s to-do list--unclogging the blades of the dishwasher, making sock monkeys to give as gifts during these hard times (kidding, just kidding) and heading down to the drugstore to pick up some Chapstick for my son—non-flavored would be preferable he scribbled on a reminder note across my Centrum coupon, it seemed like I could get myself back on track by lunchtime.
Depending on what kind of a hair year I’m having or whether my extra chin can be disguised in a gently stretched out turtleneck, determines if this conversation will take place in front of a mirror or in the corner of my darkened laundry room. But wait, the laundry room is out this year because I’m holding a grudge against mine at the moment. Nothing big mind you, just a small inconvenience with our top-of-the-line front loading washer machine, the flapper on the pump, I believe went kaput. In my experience with this luxury contraption we’ve owned for a couple of long years, when something malfunctions it requires that the part be ordered from some remote warehouse in the farthest corner of the country, never someplace local. So this was the first test in the “Is she losing it yet?” department for the 2010 Holiday Season.
Surely it’s ok to start feeling a few little pangs of losing control when you have ten family members that need to be kept in clean underwear and other incidentals like sports uniforms, white socks, and fine jeans and you become so exhausted from farming out six loads a day that you turn your dream Jacuzzi into a makeshift Laundromat!
Back to that annual pep talk of mine. The bad hair year and the resentment I am still carrying towards my washer machine lead me to the next best place for this important conversation—my car. Here I could lock myself in, turn on some peppy rendition of jingle bells and start feeling the holiday love once again. Oops—I Forgot! I now have two teenagers who drive. Suddenly, mom’s minivan is a super cool set of wheels, especially when it has a full tank of gas and can be driven with me left far behind. Sigh.
Not one to give up, I decided to give my bathroom a try—a tranquil place I could spend a few therapeutic moments alone. It’s the last place anyone would look for me because in 23 years, I’ve probably only spent a grand total of an hour in there for whatever reason. Drat—that’s no good either. The master bath is where I hide many of the Christmas gifts. Why do you think we paid good money for an oversized Jacuzzi? If it weren’t for the use it has gotten as a washer machine or a stellar hiding place for a solid six weeks every year, then I think my husband would still be crying over that installation. With stocking stuffers and a gazillion rolls of wrapping paper peeking at me, I couldn’t possibly have a heart-to-heart with myself about how to sit back and relax during this holiday season in there.
After the dinner dishes were done, compliments of the newly, unclogged dishwasher blades, I sat down to look at our family holiday greeting cards that I picked up when I forgot to buy the non-flavored Chapstick earlier that day. Eerily, there wasn’t a single child, husband or pet trying to get my attention while I admired my painstaking handy work of getting 8 children to smile at the same time during this year’s obligatory family pose.
Despite the craziness this time of year brings, I have always enjoyed handwriting nearly 100 Christmas cards to friends and family for the sheer reason of wanting to stay connected during the holidays, not to brag about my Ivy League ability to jerry rig the Jacuzzi into our second washing machine. For me, taking that time to reach out to people I really care about (ok, well, most of them) defines the true meaning of the season.
My son walked in just as I tucked the photo cards away and I realized that I had just managed to pull off my annual pep talk without even trying. I may have forgotten to buy his Chapstick but I was relieved that I hadn’t completely forgotten why this time of year is so special. Before I know it, the holiday tunes will be gone, my sacred hiding places will be empty, the last of the decorations will be stowed up in the attic, and sooner than I care to think about, my family will be grown and gone and these harried holiday rushes will be just a memory.
On that note, I headed straight to the drugstore to buy a few tubes of Chapstick. One non-flavored for my son, and some extras to keep around as a reminder that the holidays aren’t about rushing around and putting on a good show, they are about spending time with those that you care about.
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