Christmas Is Coming....

I have an unofficial rule at my house. Ok, it's an official rule. There is no decorating or celebrating the Christmas season in my house until after my birthday. My birthday hasn't come yet.

That doesn't seem to stop anyone else, however. Christmas is coming, and I have proof. It isn't the Costco has had Christmas decorations up since the last week of August. It isn't the Starbucks cup my husband graciously brought me a venti caramel macchiatto in preparation for the Northwestern game this afternoon. (Ok, so not the greatest picture - the wrapper is Christmas and there are snowflakes and reindeer on the cup.)

No, it would be what I've been living in my house daily for the past four days. Thank you, Mom.

Yes, every day since my mom was here on Tuesday, the wee ones have been going through toy catalogues that happened to come in the mail that day and marking the items they "really" want. It's the first request when they get home from school. They go through the same catalogue over and over, checking and rechecking their favored items. Some get added, some get taken off, and some are merely reaffirmed. Again. And again.

On the plus side, I'm pretty sure that writing the letter to Santa is going to be easy for them this year. That letter? It won't be written for a few more weeks, though. After all, I do have this rule in my house....



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Dear Santa

Dear Santa,

I know you're getting a ton of letters this time of year, and I'm pretty sure a lot of them are going to be coming from mommies. I'm hoping you have room for one more.

Really, I have a very small request. I'm not asking for jewelry or for personal servants or for anything luxurious even. All I want for Christmas is a good night's sleep. Ok, so maybe that's not such a small request.

Let me explain, Santa. I try. I really do. I lay down in my bed a good nine to ten hours before my alarm is going to go off. That should be plenty of sleep, right? People only need about eight hours, or so I've read. So long as I still remember how to do math, eight is less than both nine and ten. I should be set.

Let's take last night as an example though.

My husband went to bed before I did unfortunately. I could hear him snoring from downstairs, which isn't a good sign. When I turned off my light after reading an article in a magazine, I poked him so he rolled over onto his side instead of his back. And continued snoring. It took awhile for my to fall asleep. Santa, maybe you could help my husband stop snoring while you're at it?

I finally fell asleep, and Mister Man walked in around 11:30. He was crying because his side hurt. I rubbed it sleepily and asked if that felt better. He told me it didn't, so I suggested going potty or taking a drink to see if that helped. He walked into the bathroom and did both. Then he came back to tell me he still hurt. We finally discovered that wearing two pairs of underwear was causing the pain, so he removed one of them and trotted off to bed. I had to deal with the snoring again. Common sense for Mister Man, Santa? A larger bladder? I'm willing to work with you here.

Around 2:30, I was awakened by the snoring again. From a deep and sound sleep. I swear it was vibrating the bed. Needless to say, it took me awhile to fall back asleep after being so rudely pulled from my peaceful slumber. We're back to my husband and the snoring thing again, Santa. Any suggestions?

At 3:26, Little Miss started crying. My husband wasn't moving, so I hopped out of bed to find out what the problem was. She needed a hug from Mommy. I'm guessing it was a bad dream, as she went straight back to sleep. Me, not so much. How about helping Little Miss sleep through the night? Or maybe wave your magic wand and have my husband wake up quicker?

Around 4:30, I was again awakened by the snoring. This time a quick elbow to the ribs silenced it long enough for me to fall asleep. Eventually. Ok, we really need to address this snoring thing, Santa. Seriously.

I heard Mister Man head to the bathroom again -- must have been that late night drink -- around 5:20. Apparently I wasn't so soundly asleep after that last snor-wakening. Yep, a larger bladder is the solution for Mister Man. He didn't even come into our room to announce that he had to go potty. I just heard him pattering down the hall et al.

After that, I was pretty much sunk. I laid awake, counting down from 200 in the hopes that I could fall back asleep. I know you're aware that this is my personal insomnia solver. It would have worked, I think. I was down in the sixties when my husband's alarm went off. He snoozed it, the meanie. It went off again nine minutes louder. Maybe you could bring him an alarm that just reaches out and pokes him. Quietly.

I laid awake and listened to him shower. When he turned the light in the closet on and left the door open so he could find his socks and such, I sighed and tried to roll over. Light is not exactly conducive to sleep for me. Ok, Santa, I know asking for a house that's large enough that the closet is a giant his/hers set next to the bathroom with the door to the hallway where the closets are, but I think that's the solution. See, a good night's sleep is so simple next to this!

By the time I heard the garage door closing, it was beyond hope. I was exhausted, but I knew sleep wasn't coming back to me. I gave up and hauled myself into the shower to start the day about forty-five minutes early.

On the plus side, Santa, I did have one of my most productive days ever. I got so much stuff done. Maybe this whole sleep thing is overrated.

Nope, sorry. I need my sleep. Santa, please, this is the only thing I'm asking for. Take pity on a mom with bags below the bags on her eyes. I promise I'll be a better mom this year if I get more sleep. Just one good night. Pretty please?

Love,



PS I promise I'm making extra yummy cookies for you this year. Not that I'd try to bribe you or anything. That would put me squarely on the naughty list, I know.

Bah, Humbug!

Different families have very different traditions, and being married, I've learned that there are times when you just have to learn to compromise.

My husband's family grew up very differently from the way I grew up. He never had a birthday party. His mom made him only two birthday cakes that he can remember. Things like this just weren't a big deal to them. And for him, he doesn't get the celebrations that people do for their or their kids' birthdays.

Gift giving, in general, is the same way in his family. People hand each other lists of what they want, and they expect that you'll buy from them what you're told to. There's no creativity. There's no showing that you know a person well and figured out something that you know they'd love that they never even thought about. It's really less a present than a completion of a shopping list, and it always feels a little yuck to me. What's the fun and surprise and point even of exchanging gifts when you've told the person exactly what to get you?

It first started when I married into the family and drew my SIL for the gift exchange that year. She announced that she expected whoever drew her to purchase her the Season Whatever Buffy The Vampire Slayer on DVD. Ok. Did you want me to give it to you just in the bag? When I told my husband that I intended to get her something else, something that I thought she'd like, my husband warned me against this. Given the cattiness I've seen previously, I acquiesced. Except that I made him buy and wrap the DVD because I couldn't quite stomach it. And I bought her a couple of other cute small things that I thought she'd like.

Unfortunately, this means of "shopping" for people has resulted in people who don't know how to shop for people without a specific list. As year after year went by and my husband continued to miss my very unsubtle hints and instead purchased items for me that were inevitably returned, I realized that I had to make a compromise.

The next year, I started creating a list in May. I wrote down all sorts of things that I wanted from a big NU flag to an immersion blender to a fuzzy logic rice cooker (ok, I'm realizing how boring I sound with my list). I created a long, long list, with the clarification to my husband that these are simply ideas. I don't expect nor want to receive every item on the list, but at least it gives him some options.

He purchased the first six things on the list.

After the holidays I clarified the element of surprise bit and also that maybe some items were gifts that maybe I'd want more than others and that he should peruse the list a little. That actually seemed to work, and the gift giving really improved for him (and his family).

This year has been a bit busier, and while I continued to drop my not-so-subtle hints throughout the year, I didn't update my wish list. I'm discovering that this was a mistake.

When we were in Seattle last weekend, my husband asked me on Monday (the 17th) what I wanted for my birthday. I listed off a few items before realizing the implications of his question. My birthday is today (the 24th). We weren't getting home until the 18th. Six days before my birthday, he would not have even started shopping for me.

On Wednesday, the first package arrived from FedEx. The box prominently listed that it was from something or other lids company. Ahhh, the new lid for my Cuisinart has arrived. When I showed my husband the cracked plastic top to my very old Cuisinart that I use regularly, he nodded sagely, and I thought I was getting a brand new way cool Cuisinart. Nope, I'm just getting the top.

On Thursday, a second package arrived, with a prominently placed logo about something fitness. Whooo, I now have a new heart rate monitor. I'm realizing that I really made a mistake. And that it's really hard to not look at the return address of a package that comes as you're trying to determine who it's for, especially since there are items that I've ordered online that I'm waiting for.

Lesson learned. I'm already starting on the list for next year. I'm thinking about just taping it to the refrigerator to make it that much easier for my husband. But that really takes the fun out of it, doesn't it?

Oh, and I got a nice birthday dinner last night (since it's a school night tonight and I'm working in the office and won't be home until later). We went to my Monday night sushi place and did the hibachi. I forgot they actually make you wear a balloon hat and turn on the colored disco lights and play the birthday song. And, lucky me, they now memorialize it with a photo on their "Kobe wall."

At 5:37pm today, I'm officially 33 years old. With a new heartrate monitor and a Cuisinart lid for my efforts. And yes, I do already know what I'm getting my husband, and no, I don't let him make me a list!

And The Procrastination Ends...

I bought my first digital camera when I was on a cruise over New Years during the non-crisis of Y2K. I bought it on the island of St John after haggling with the guys for about 45 minutes and walking out of the store once. Needless to say, I got a pretty good deal and some extras thrown in on my nice little Canon Powershot S30.

It has served me well for years in the picture taking I do. It’s 3.2 megapixels and 10X zoom, which isn’t too bad for picture taking. Especially for someone who’s truly a point and shoot kind of person and has yet to read the manual. There are things I really love about the camera, like the rechargeable battery and the optical viewfinder.

I’ve noticed lately that I’ve been using the optical viewfinder more and more often, as the battery just doesn’t hold a charge like it used to. The camera’s well over eight years old, so what do you expect? I finally decided late last year that it was time to upgrade to a new camera.

I couldn’t decide on a camera as there are quite simply too many cameras out there, so I put it on my wish list.

(Side note: I hate wish lists and believe that you should be able to buy a gift for a person based on what you know about them rather than them handing you a list of things they want that they could go out and buy if they so choose. Finding a gift for someone that they didn’t know they wanted is far more satisfying to me, and it’s how I was raised. After three years of marriage, I gave up when it came to my husband now and simply maintain a long wish list of items so at least I truly don’t know what I’m getting.)

In talking to some people I know who are far more knowledgeable and talented when it comes to cameras, I discovered that staying with a Canon was not a bad move, which I mentioned to my husband. Shockingly, I ended up with a Canon under the Christmas tree.

Except it wasn’t one I wanted. (I’m horrible, aren’t I?) I forget now which model it was, but there were features about it that I didn’t like – maybe it was lacking that optical viewfinder? So I ummm returned it, much to his consternation. Fortunately, he didn’t hold a grudge.

Since that time I’ve periodically tried to do some research on what camera I really do want, but it’s awfully overwhelming. Needless to say, I keep putting off the purchase.

Until tonight.

As you may know from ummm oh reading my blog before, today was the zoo field trip for Mister Man. Shockingly, it was a rush out the door this morning, which meant I got into the car forgetting both my phone and my camera. Fortunately, I realized that I forgot the camera before I actually put the key in the ignition and ran to get it.

Smart me (as opposed to normal me) remembered to charge the battery on Wednesday so I wouldn’t have to worry about it. When I went to take my first picture at the zoo, the LCD screen was black. Ok, so I used the viewfinder (see why I love it so much?) and zoomed in before taking the picture. And that was just the first picture on a supposedly full battery.

Needless to say, I learned something new about the camera. If the battery is low enough to need the viewfinder, while you can zoom the lens, it won’t actually zoom when the picture is taken. Needless to say my far away monkeys show up in the picture very far away.

Taking a picture of Little Miss at dinner tonight caused the same issues. It was really cute – she had a sundae for dessert and picked up the cup it came in to drink out the last of the ice cream. A circle of ice cream and chocolate syrup was pasted onto her face, and she was thrilled with herself. I couldn’t zoom to get the ancillary items out of the picture so it looked funny.

I hit my frustration point then. The gene from my dad kicked in. I came home, fired up the computer and started searching the options on the Canon point and shoot offerings. It’s still clear as mud, but I at least found some insights about what I need and want and am willing to spend.

The winner is the Canon Powershot SD850. It’s officially ordered and on its way. Of course, it’s Friday night, nothing gets picked on Saturdays, Monday is a holiday, and I likely won’t get my camera until the end of next week. Of course now that I finally ordered it, I want it yesterday – or at least this morning!

Oh yeah, and this camera cost half what the one I bought 8 plus years ago did.