The Christmas Shoes

One of the Christmas books I read over break was called "The Christmas Shoes." I also saw the movie of the same name, which followed the basic story line of a boy who wanted to get a special gift for his dying mother's last Christmas. A stranger helped him buy a pair of sparkly shoes for her to wear when she meets Jesus in heaven.

Yes, it was one of those sappy seasonal stories that required a box of Kleenex, which means, of course, I loved it. By coincidence, my parents also had a "Christmas Shoes" story to tell as their part of our family Christmas program this weekend.

We were entertained with some funny songs by the "Three Wise Queens" and the "12 Days of Christmas" (acted out by some surprisingly willing participants, a.k.a. nephews). Since it was the fifth day of Christmas, my brother also shared his interpretation of the symbolism of the five golden rings. We heard some singing and the reading of the Christmas story. My oldest sister read some Christmas poems she received 25 years ago while living in California (did you know I was a writer even back then?). My guys and I performed a skit about special gifts we'd like to give each family member -- if we were actually Santa and Mrs. Claus.

My parents concluded the program, sharing the story of each of our births (like how much we weighed and comments from the doctor, family members and friends), then hanging a pair of our baby shoes on a "tree." For each of my three siblings and one nephew who died shortly after their births, Mom and Dad hung an angel. They told us how we've all taken a lot of steps through life and left footprints on their hearts. Although I couldn't see through the blur of my tears, I am sure there wasn't a dry eye in the room.

After the program, Mom and Dad offered to let each of us kids take our pair of baby shoes home with us. But I noticed at the end of the night that none of us wanted to disturb that tree. We just couldn't bear to leave those precious angels by themselves ... for they have left a footprint on our hearts, too.

The Christmas Program

I'm not exactly sure how far back our family Christmas program dates, but we've been putting on a performance for my parents well over 30 years.

One of my earliest recollections was acting out the Nativity Story. I think I was about 4 years old. I don't know if I was one of the animals in the stable or what my role was, but I do recall that my three oldest sisters portrayed the three wise men. Wearing dishtowels on their heads, they marched in with the gifts of gold, frankincense and ... packages of graham crackers.

Each year, we either put on a play or sang as a family unit or as individuals or small groups. Thankfully, this was not like American Idol. Mom and Dad did not judge us, merely enjoyed the performances.

They also didn't judge how we dressed either! The picture at right was taken at a Christmas in the mid-70s (duh). Mind you, these are not costumes, just our nice dress-up clothes. Performing for a captive audience with me (far left) are Rachel, Raylene and Ron.

As our family expanded to add some spouses of my siblings, the format of the program changed. Now, instead of the original family doing something together, each of us 8 kids do a number, so to speak, with our respective families.

Many times, on the long drive to our family gathering, I have written a poem or something my family can read together. This year, I actually have something done ahead of time. I am looking forward to it and just have to get my other participants to share the excitement. I mean really, they can't be that embarrassed. It's not like I'm making them wear polyester leisure suits!

Or am I?

Cat-atonic

Have you ever wondered what it would be like to be an animal? I see enough kids' movies with Carter that feature talking animal characters (chipmunks, rats, penguins), that it's easy to see what it would be like.

I admit I get jealous when I see our cat taking yet another nap. I wish I could do that. Or when she just wakes up and stretches with her back arching way up high. Oh, how I'd love to do that! I probably wouldn't need a chiropractor any more, either.

Lately, however, our lovely princess hasn't been looking so good. She's been losing lots of her hair on her tail (in a weird pattern) and belly. Sylvester went in for her annual check-up yesterday. It turns out she may have an allergy or she may be overgrooming herself because of stress.

Stress?! A cat under stress?! What could she possibly be stressed about? Is she only getting 19 hours of sleep a day instead of 20? Did a little piece of food fall into her water dish so it is no longer pure? Is she not getting enough sun-bathing time in the winter?

If those were life's challenges, I could handle "stress." I did try a little cat nap yesterday afternoon and that was pretty nice. I could see myself as a cat -- the princess of the household ... but then I start thinking about the licking myself thing and no, not going there.

I do hope her stress goes away. She could try some of my tips from this week's vacation: Get lots of rest, drink plenty of eggnog, stay away from the computer (even to blog!), don't watch the news, go to the spa and get your hair done, maybe try some catnip. Oh wait, I didn't actually do that -- but I think going to the Alvin and the Chipmunks movie comes close to the same experience.

Christmas Day

Merry Christmas! Feliz Navidad! Good Yule! Happy Birthday, Jesus!

Christmas got an early start in the Austin household this morning -- as usual. Despite the fact Carter vowed he was going to sleep in, he was whispering in my ear (something about Santa and presents) by 7:30 a.m. Our plan was that we'd open presents when the big boys got up or at 9:30 -- whichever came first. Since Carter was up with the sun, he had two long, grueling hours to wait! I almost felt bad for him. Almost.

He pretty much asked routinely about every 7 minutes if he could open a present. Nope, you'll have to wait. I did try to keep his mind occupied. I had him help me make pancakes and even eat them. And it still wasn't time yet.

When it was time and he got the boys up, they quickly ate breakfast and we were ready to dig into the presents that magically appeared overnight. Since we all knew Carter was getting the one big thing he wanted, we decided to make him wait some more and unwrapped our gifts oldest to youngest.

Daddy was thrilled with his new jacket and Cincinnati Reds clothes. Mommy loves her golf clubs and can't wait to get swinging. Casey and Clay were happy to finally open what they picked out a few weeks ago.

Then it was Carter's turn. I just loved his look of surprise at each present. That is something I am not ready to let go of yet. Whether he believes in Santa or not, I want him to always enjoy the magic. He practically danced when he got his Pink Floyd shirts and you probably all heard him squeal when he opened the big one -- the PS2. He just hugged that box and couldn't stop grinning. "Man, I knew Santa would bring that! I knew I was good!"

Yep, Santa did something right. And as we spent a good part of the day together as a family -- eating, laughing and teaching the boys some card games -- I thought, yep, Daddy and I did something right, too.

Take time today (and all year) to enjoy the real gifts of Christmas... the blessings your loved ones bring to your heart!

Christmas Eve

Ever since I can remember, the excitement of Christmas was always focused on Christmas Eve. The anticipation builds and builds to the point it is impossible to sleep because I didn't want to sleep -- I just wanted morning to get here!

When I was growing up, the whole family was always together on Christmas Eve. Part of the fun was the program we'd do for our parents. The other part, of course, was opening presents -- mainly from the people who drew our names, but sometimes special gifts. Money was tight back then so there weren't a lot of extra gifts. As the babies, my twin sister and I would quite often get some of those special gifts, though. I liked that!

We'd go to bed that night, hanging our stockings along the staircase, leaving enough space (usually a step above and below) for Santa to leave his presents wrapped in white tissue paper.

As an adult, our Christmas Eves are spent at the in-laws, with some gifts exchanged and always something for the spoiled grandkids. Carter likes that!

A couple of times when Carter was too young to know any better, Santa arrived while we were "out" for the evening and the boys opened presents when we got home Christmas Eve -- this was only if the big boys had to go to their mom's in the morning. For the past several years, though, we've come home from Jim's parents, hung the stockings around the living room furniture -- and tried to get Carter to sleep.

Tonight he was especially excited because we went on the NORAD Web site where they are tracking Santa's visits all Eve. He is getting close to Wisconsin so Carter knows he better fall asleep quick!

As is his tradition, he left some cookies and a glass of eggnog for Santa, plus a note. This year's note sounds somewhat similar to our family Christmas letter, but it puts all of us (but the cat) in a good light:

Dear Santa,
I've been a good boy this year. Sylvester got in a cat fight. Casey got his license. Dad got a golfing trip. Mom got a haircut. Clay is still working hard. And I have had a lot of exciting moments.
Sincerely,
Carter J. Austin
Ho! Ho! Ho!

Will Santa be won over? If so, will he get the job done right so he doesn't have to come back (like the Tooth Fairy)? Stay tuned...

White(out) Christmas

Because of our lengthy commute to work, I'm not a big fan of snow anymore. So I certainly had no dreams of a white Christmas, but apparently quite a few people did.

We knew the storm was coming. Remember how we used to love big snows because there was that potential that we'd a have a snow day? Since Christmas vacation (for Carter and me) officially started yesterday, we didn't need a big snow for a snow day or a white Christmas. That was covered already.

I'm not as annoyed about this as I could be -- for a couple reasons. One, we don't have to travel until next weekend so I really had no place to go. Two, since I got home from the bank Saturday morning, I have been a game-playing, movie-watching, lounge pants-wearing lazy bum, and I'm OK with that.

That, to me, is what Christmas vacation is all about.

We interrupt this vacation, however, to bring you the fantasy football "Super Bowl." Jim stands to win a big chunk of moola if his team wins. So it's been a little tense today. We did, however, get some enjoyment out of the Packers game (Sorry, I can only be so nice at Christmas time.). Tonight we'll be back to nail biting as the Vikings try to secure their playoff spot (c'mon, Santa. We've been good!)

Carter has loved all this snow. This isn't really the sticky, packing kind so he couldn't build what he wanted, but he is burrowing a tunnel of some sort. I actually took a shovel and cleared the deck and walkway. That took me just as long as it took Jim to snowblow the whole driveway! (I expect this ol' brittle bag o' bones will be feeling it later.)

It's been snowing all day so it doesn't even look like I shoveled earlier. Jim is outside now, doing a second pass with the snowblower. With all the blowing and drifting snow, all the law enforcement types are warning us all to stay off the roads and just stay home.

I guess if you twist my arm, I can keep my Vikings lounge pants on and eat some more Christmas treats. I better sign off and go call dibs on the couch for the night! Ahhh... vacation!

Seasonal "not so effective" Disorder

Tooth, justice and the American Way

So the Tooth Fairy saga has come to its anti-climatic conclusion. I ended up quitting that job last night, turning it over to Daddy -- and Carter, with another presidential coin dollar in hand, was a satisfied customer this morning.

We're pretty sure he has it figured out that his parents have a hand in this -- since the execution of the "exchange" fell far short of fairy tale expectations. We will neither confirm nor deny those suspicions at this time.

Season's Eatings

As I mentioned earlier this week, today is the culmination of days of Noel Noshing and Festive Feasting at work. Up until today, I'd say my willpower has prevailed (well, prevailed is probably too strong a word). This morning, however, I've already had a tasty Scotcheroo, a yummy oversized chocolate-covered peanut butter ball and one carrot stick (a balanced snack, right?).

And the forecast... Not really seeing an end in sight as we'll have a group lunch and grazing is expected to continue throughout the day. The good news is after today, I will be on vacation until Jan. 2 so I have all kinds of time to work it off. (Really, though, who the heck wants to work when they're on vacation?!)

Oh Christmas Tree

Three days before Christmas Eve and Carter now pipes up that he doesn't like how our tree is decorated. "It needs more homemade decorations," he says. Well, I guess I know what I'll be doing this weekend! (Not.)

Actually, he did bring home 3 yesterday that he made in school so we can start there. Since he was the one who helped me decorate the tree, I'm not sure why he didn't mention it then. If he thinks I'm going to spend the weekend being crafty, he's mistaken. I plan to relax the next few days... if it kills me.

The tooth, the whole tooth, and ...

I have this sinking feeling I am going to be out of a job in short order ... the job of Tooth Fairy anyway. True to his word, Carter gave him/her/it another shot last night. That did not go as planned!

First of all, Carter normally sleeps on the bottom bunk but decided last night that he wanted to sleep on the top bunk so the Tooth Fairy would not have a hard time getting to him.

Secondly, our practice has been that he puts his tooth in a small Ziploc bag and the Tooth Fairy swaps out the tooth and leaves four quarters. Last night Carter decided he was going to leave the tooth under his pillow (did I mention this tooth broke after he pulled it so we are dealing with TWO pieces?). His logic: "Well Mom, if we put the tooth in a bag, then the Tooth Fairy thinks he has to leave coins. If I put the tooth under my pillow, it's easier for him to slip bills under there."

Thirdly, Carter wrote a note to the Tooth Fairy on a Post-It note. So besides the two pieces of tooth, there is a sticky note under his pillow that reads: "Dear Tooth Fairy: Sorry the tooth is broken. Could you still please leave some $?"

Shortly before midnight, under the cover of darkness, I had quite a challenge. I had to stand on the bottom bunk (naturally, the ladder is nowhere near his head), had to reach under his pillow without disturbing his head, and grab the paper and pieces. In two tries, I got them all out and placed them on his nightstand where I could see them with the faint glow of his SpongeBob alarm clock.

Then it was time to slip the dollar (a presidential COIN dollar - we weren't falling for that BILL logic) under his pillow. Clang! It hit the metal bed frame. Thankfully, our son is a heavy sleeper! I got it under the pillow, grabbed the paper and tooth from the nightstand and tiptoed back to our room.

Only I didn't get both pieces of the tooth... I learned that from Carter at 6 a.m. (well before that alarm goes off). "Are you sure the Tooth Fairy isn't our parents?" he asks. Trying to get the heat off my back, I reply, "What? Can't the Tooth Fairy make a mistake?"

I swear I had both pieces in my hand when I left his room! Now, like a bad mini-series, this stinkin' saga will continue another night! Carter insists on writing yet another note telling the Tooth Fairy he forgot something. He also expects to get another dollar for the other half of the tooth. Hey, two trips, two dollars. More logic from the 9-year-old.

At this point, I am ready to say, "Is it really that important for you to believe in the Tooth Fairy?!" But, of course, I won't. I want him to look back some day and remember the time it took the Tooth Fairy three nights to get it right.

Thank goodness Santa only comes once a year!

Tooth or consequences

I fear Carter's imaginary world is shattering around him. Just a week after he inquires about the validity of Santa and the Tooth Fairy, he is about to uncover the truth ... but not if we can help it.

Last evening, Carter mentioned he had 2 loose teeth. I felt them both and figured we had a few days to go. A child doesn't always realize a tooth can feel loose for quite awhile before it's ready to come out.

When he went to bed, I told him not to spend the night wiggling the tooth or he'd be up all night. His response was that he wanted to be sure he was the one who pulled it out, not Daddy, because then he might get more money.

More money?! When I was a kid, I got a nickel or a dime or a quarter. We had been giving Carter 50 cents -- but that last time upped it to a dollar since there was some pain involved. Carter insists, however, that ALL his friends get $5 a tooth. 5 bucks?! What the heck?

I didn't even have a good answer so I changed the subject. (We parents are good at that.) Then, I didn't give the matter another thought until this morning.

Carter comes out with spots of blood on his T-shirt and crying. What on earth happened? "I lost my tooth last night and put it under my pillow and the Tooth Fairy didn't come!"

Did you tell Daddy? I asked. "No. I wanted to prove my friends were wrong, that it wasn't our parents."

Oh crap. Why does he have to be such a fact finder? (You'd think his parents were former newspaper reporters or something!)

In the way that parents can lie creatively on the spot, I told him I suspected it was too late at night when he lost the tooth and the Tooth Fairy had already passed over our house. Daddy said the same thing, but Carter was adamant that so-and-so down the street loses her teeth late at night and the Tooth Fairy still comes.

What can we say? Here we are defending something that doesn't exist! (Now I know how those public defenders feel when they don't believe in their clients.)

We told Carter we'd try again tonight. Now, the question is: Does our client deserve extra compensation in damages for his undue pain and suffering?

For the record, I checked on www.toothfairy.org (yes, such a Web site exists) this morning, and the going rate for a tooth these days is a dollar ... so we're right on track. We all know the Tooth Fairy wouldn't lie, right? I think she leaves that up to us parents.

Simple minds, simple pleasures

If you ever wonder why certain sayings became "catch phrases," so to speak, take a good look around you and you are bound to say, "Ahh, that's what they were talking about!"

For example, I'd say "Simple minds, simple pleasures" likely originated in a breakroom in corporate America where employees were ooohing and ahhhing over a new vending machine.

I'm serious. We got a new soda vending machine you'd think was the second coming. People watch as this little robotic plastic holder moves up the machine to their selection, grabs the bottle, travels down to the bottom of the machine and gently places it in the "outbox" so it won't fizz up -- all the while making these cool robotic sound effects.

It actually draws a crowd of spectators when it's in use. And I am a pathetically guilty but willing participant. This morning some co-workers were raving about the new machine. "Let's go use it!" they said. I said I had nothing to buy but I'd go watch!

Oh yes, simple minds, simple pleasures.

Honestly, though I wouldn't consider myself simple-minded, I do find joy in the little things. Besides the vending machine (which provides such obvious fulfillment!), I get a big smile on my face ...

When I read Christmas letters from family and friends. When I see a house with beautiful lights outside. When I buy the last item that means Christmas shopping is officially done (yeah!). When a favorite carol plays on the radio. When I find a little treat from a co-worker at my desk (mint kisses rule!). When I reconnect with old friends. When I catch Carter or Jim under the mistletoe. When I nibble on the occasional treat while downing yet another glass of eggnog (it's an addiction, I know). When the Vikings pull out another ugly win. When Carter tells me how important it is to celebrate Jesus' birthday.

Yep, it's the little things. But some of these fill a big place in my heart.

May you find simple pleasures of your own to treasure this holiday season.

Can you find the NO in noel?

Ask any willpower-challenged person like myself and they'll tell you the next two weeks will be the ultimate test.

Those who work in an office setting especially know that this week is just one potluck, buffet and grazing festival after another. (Can we call them appetizers when we're eating them on a "full but there's still a little bit of room" stomach?) Then the real celebrations start and can continue for the entire week between Christmas and New Year's.

Visions of sugar plums? That is not my problem. It's the visions of cookies, chocolate, homemade candies and, of course, eggnog anything. It's always a challenge to make healthy choices. And portion control? Exercise? What is that?!?

The devil on my shoulder is telling me to go ahead, fluff up -- then resolve once again on Jan. 1 to lose it. The angel on my other shoulder is telling me just the opposite, naturally.

I decided I should compromise: say yes to exercise and say no to at least some of those treats!!

i got on the treadmill this weekend and will continue to do so during this holiday season. I don't know now much good it will do in preventing the fluff, but it will go a long way in easing my guilt when I grab that mint truffle... or that peanut butter cup cookie... or those almond bark pretzels... or order an eggnog shake!

Good luck to you all!

Wise Guys

Carter (center) hams it up with fellow wisemen Clayton (left) and Jeromy.

We've referred to our dear son as a wise guy before but today, for 55 minutes, he was a wiseman -- thanks to the Sunday School Christmas Program.

About 3 years ago we started sharing the story of Jesus' birth through the eyes of a different character each year -- partly to educate the "audience" and partly to keep them from getting bored with the exact same program year after year! We've heard from the shepherds and Joseph, and this year it was the wisemen (otherwise known as the fourth-grade class).

Carter had a few speaking parts today and despite one false start, he spoke with confidence and expression. Despite the fact he was dreading this program for the past few days, on the way he home he said, "That didn't seem very long at all!"

I think he was gauging it by the 2-hour dress rehearsal we had on Friday night. We never really had one non-stop run-through of the program. I often wonder how it all comes together but magically it does. Most of the time, the audience has no idea if there's a goof. Only those close to the project know a line was missed or timing was off. As far as the audience is concerned, it was wonderful.

When you think about it, that's the way it is with a lot of things in life.

At work, my "audience" of readers sees a wonderful publication -- they don't know the errors we caught before press time, the computer crashes we suffered or any other headache we endured. They say thanks for a great product ... and we should just say "You're welcome."

In my personal life, if I've baked or crafted something, my "audience" will marvel at my creativity -- they really don't need to hear me complain about what went wrong, point out my mistakes, how I should have chosen better colors or better ingredients, or criticize my abilities. When they say thanks for sharing ... I should just say "You're welcome."

No need to be a wise guy, eh?

Help Wanted: Shopping skills required

I'm officially discounting any previous claim that I am "gearhead." If you throw out my minimal knowledge of NASCAR and truckin', I am as befuddled as the next princess when it comes to finding my way around a home improvement store.

Each Christmas, we draw names in Jim's family. There are only 6 of us adults so by the laws of averages, I should have gotten each person at least once, right? Instead, this is at least the fourth year I have drawn my brother-in-law ... proud to be a true gearhead (as in former racecar driver and now the crew chief/mechanic for his 13-year-old racing son).

On his list were two items with very specific names -- even model numbers. Alas, that didn't tell me anything. They might as well have been written in Japanese or Greek because I was clueless what they were. All I knew is that I could find them at Menards. Well that was a start.

Since I didn't want to look foolish walking into the store, I searched for the items on the Internet. I did not find an exact match but because they mentioned "retractable cords," I had it all figured out: Power tools.

I walked into the store, armed with my list and a semi-confident speculation of where I needed to go. I did walk up and down several aisles and nothing looked/sounded familiar. I got frustrated just enough I knew it was time to ask for help. (What is it -- I'm in a guy's store so I can't ask for directions?)

I walked up to the help desk and a woman was working behind it (no more stereotyping). I explained my conundrum and showed her the list. "That would be in electrical," she said. "Oh, at the other side of the store?" I asked. "Yep, right where you came in." Oh yes, I was definitely out of my element here. It would be like Jim walking into a scrapbooking store and trying to find what's on my list!

No surprise, once I trekked back to my starting point, I did find the two items exactly matching the words on the list. I still don't know what they are, but my brother-in-law will be happy to open them on Christmas Eve.

What did I learn from this? Some people are easy to buy for -- but hard to shop for. If you don't know what they want, ask. If they tell you and you still don't know, ask. If you don't want to ask, you can't go wrong with gift cards.

Lucy lives on

Although my family is big on Christmas traditions (especially our annual program for Mom and Dad), it wasn't until I was in college that I heard about St. Nick's Day, when I found presents outside my dorm room door on Dec. 6.

As a parent, I thought it would be great to start this "new" tradition with Carter. Then I thought, why not see if there is something that better reflects my 100% Scandinavian heritage? That's when I found out about St. Lucy's Day.

According to tradition, in Sweden, Denmark, Norway and Finland, Lucy (called Lucia) is venerated on Dec. 13 in a ceremony where an elected girl, portraying Lucia, walks, with a crown of candles, ahead of a procession of other women holding a candle each, and they serve sweets or treats to the others in the household. (The candles symbolize the fire that refused to take St. Lucy's life when she was sentenced to be burned.)

In my house, as the only female, I have refused to wear candles on my head and serve the guys breakfast in bed -- but have made cinnamon rolls when it has fallen on a weekend. I also do explain the tradition to Carter and do make sure a little gift appears under the tree from St. Lucy.

This morning, I was at work before Carter got up (Daddy has the day off), but he called me to tell me he was very excited about his gift. (Do you find it strange he has no hesitation believing in Santa Lucia but is questioning the existence of Santa Claus?)

By coincidence, Jim is having lunch at Grant Elementary School with Carter to celebrate St. Lucy (or maybe just a day off). I am celebrating with a McDonald's eggnog shake -- thanks to my friend Katy -- and my Swedish Meatballs SmartOnes meal. M-m-m... could be the start of another tradition.

Happy St. Lucy's Day!

I believe

Back in 1897, the New York Sun declared to a little girl named Virginia that Santa Claus does indeed exist. These days, we parents are the "authority" on all legendary figures. And you know kids, they like to question authority.

Last night, I heard the dreaded words: "Mom, a lot of kids are saying there is no Santa Claus -- or the tooth fairy -- that it's our parents."

Oh no! This happens in 4th grade? I'm not ready for this. I told him, "Well my mom always told me that as long as I believe in Santa, he will come. I still believe. I still hang my stocking."

I think Carter wanted to believe that. "That's what I thought," he said. "Adults still get presents and they wouldn't go out and buy them for themselves!"

Of course not, honey.

I was just a bit older than Carter when it was confirmed for me that Mom and Dad were "delivering" Santa's gifts for him. Santa had a system in our house. He always wrapped our presents in white tissue paper. That's it. No ribbons, no bows, no tags, no patterned paper. Just the white tissue gift on the step by our stockings (which hung along the open staircase).

One day before Christmas, I had to get something out of my parents' bedroom. Or maybe I was just snooping, I really don't recall. (I'm guessing the latter because I was peeking in their closet.)

That's when I saw them. On the top shelf were boxes wrapped in the infamous white tissue paper. My first reaction was "Aha! I was right." But then I was quite disappointed to realize there wasn't a Santa Claus.

I still believe in the magic of Christmas morning surprises, though, even if I am the one buying those surprises in my house. I love the look on Carter's face when he sees what magically appeared while he was sleeping. I'm not quite ready to give that up. I hope Carter isn't either.

Keep believing, son. Keep believing.

Word up

Attention, ladies: If your man says you are acting like your mother, he may be giving you a compliment.

I'm serious. Yes, just like Mother, I do worry what people think. Yes, I do have trouble parting with possessions -- even plastic Cool Whip containers. But yes, I am also clever and creative. And, Mom and I both share this love, respect really, of the English language.

I think deep down, Marlys and I would have loved to have been English teachers. Words should be used appropriately (in speech and writing), written neatly and, without a doubt, spelled correctly. (Oh, I probably shouldn't say that or I'll have people editing my blog.)

Carter, too, is really grasping language arts and enjoying it. Each week, he gets a Big Word Challenge, where the students have to create as many words as they can using the letters from the "big word." They encourage the students to work on it with their parents so it can be a family activity.

I always enjoyed doing word puzzles as a child so I am having a ball helping him. I don't know why I didn't think of it sooner, but last night when we started working on his word for this week, I said, "Do you know who would really get a kick out of this? Grandma Hedberg! We should call her and see if she wants to help."

And so he did. And yes, she was very excited and ready to accept the challenge. Carter told her she could just concentrate on the 5- and 6-letter words and he would handle the smaller words (though he's no slouch when it comes to those big words either).

"We could do this every week, Grandma," says Carter. "I'll call you with the Big Word on Monday or Tuesday and then call you later in the week to see if you came up with any words. Then, on the weeks we don't have a word, we could still call you to see how you're doing."

That sounds like a great plan! Of course, Grandma already came up with two words while on the phone with Carter.

Now, I told her not to become obsessed with this. She certainly shouldn't lose any sleep over it .... but I have a feeling that last night, instead of counting sheep, the letters in Baltimore were running through her head!

The Ultimate Gift

Have you ever thought to yourself, "Boy kids these days have it so good!" Or been guilty of spouting, "Back when I was a kid, I had to walk 5 miles to school up hill both ways..." or "We were so poor we couldn't afford sense of humor..." or something dramatic and devastating like that.

Yes, we want our children to be spared from "suffering" as we did. But part of us is jealous that they have so many of the modern conveniences we didn't have. And it seems so much is just given to them. Do they have to earn anything? Do your children do any "chores" without expecting an allowance or treat of some kind? It makes me wonder about the next generation (not to sound like an old lady here).

I saw a good movie this weekend that gave me some hope. The Ultimate Gift is actually based on a book of the same name and, unbeknownst to me, has spurred a movement of sorts ... or I should say an "experience."

The story synopsis is this: When his wealthy grandfather dies, trust fund baby Jason Stevens anticipates a big inheritance. Instead, his grandfather has devised a crash course on life with 12 tasks -- or “gifts” -- designed to challenge Jason in improbable ways, sending him on a journey of self-discovery and forcing him to determine what is most important in life: money or happiness.

If you check out the Web site about it, www.theultimategift.com, you'll learn more about this movement: A few years back, a little book started something very big. A message that has already prompted people to give to others, connect with friends and family, and help those in need like never before. Every one of us has powerful gifts to share, now we all have the added inspiration, resources and opportunities of a full-fledged movement. Each day, the momentum grows and the impact widens, as The Ultimate Gift continues to inspire millions of others to share the gift and change the world.

Watching the movie, I found it interesting to see that the first "gift" was the gift of work. The spoiled main character hadn't really worked a day in his life. After spending a month on a ranch, he learned to be responsible and reliable and took pride in his work. His grandfather pointed out that anyone willing to work hard can do just about anything -- and succeed.

Isn't that the truth? Think about your childhood and how many "chores" you had to do. (I might joke that it was slave labor, but I learned to do the "job" -- and do it well.) Now think about your work ethic. Chances are, if you are from my generation and older, you consider yourself a hard worker. You might even be a bit of a perfectionist -- doing any task at hand to the best of your ability.

Now what about your kids and/or grandkids? Can you say the same? I have concerns about how our family is going to go about developing a strong work ethic when we can't even get the 15-year-old to go to school!

Granted, work is not everything. But if you check out this movie or the book or the Web site, you'll find it is one of many gifts we can give our loved ones. As with most things we treasure - our values, our love and our time - the only way to keep it is to give it away. Enjoy the ultimate gift.

Secret mission

Today was the Big Reveal for our Secret Santas at work. It turned out to be quite a successful (and festive) effort.

If you've never done Secret Santas or Secret Elves or something similar, you're missing out. It's a chance for anonymous fun, creativity and generosity. For the past 2 weeks, 21 of us women have been secretly leaving gifts and little treats or decorating each other's desk areas in the spirit of the season.

I had my friend Sara's name and had a blast surprising her with something just about every day. I had no idea who was doing similar favors for me -- until today. It was really cool that Michelle (my secret Santa) and all the other women were really into it.

Everyone said they had just as much fun giving as receiving. And many said it helped get them in a positive mood for Christmas (now that can be an accomplishment!).

Now if only I could carry that enthusiasm into my next project -- the dreaded Christmas letter. I do love trying to be creative with it, but I feel like I've missed some sort of deadline already. Why have I received so many cards already? Am I that far behind?

Hmmm... Maybe Santa has just granted someone else's wish to be organized and ahead of the game this year so they could truly enjoy the Christmas season. Good for them.

I had my first eggnog shake of the year tonight. So even though I didn't get my "organization" wish, between the shake and my Secret Santa, I'm certainly enjoying the season, too. Good for me.

Oh Christmas tree...

I don't know about you, but I get tired of the whole politically correct scene -- especially at Christmastime. Whoops, did I say Christmas?! Yea, I said it. Are the PC cops gonna get me?

We have an interesting news story developing in Wisconsin. Earlier this week, an Assembly committee said the 35-foot balsam fir in the Capitol decorated with lights should be called a Christmas tree.

Doesn't sound like a big deal but the plan would reverse the long-standing practice of calling it a holiday tree. (I'm sure you've sung that old carol, Oh Holiday Tree, right?). We don't hear much about what our representative is doing in Madison, but this measure was sponsored by Rep. Marlin Schneider (Wisconsin Rapids). Glad to see he's taking up a cause!

According to a news report, Schneider says the tree was known as a Christmas tree from 1916 until 1985 when the state became too politically correct. But the Freedom From Religion Foundation says using the word Christmas would offend nonreligious people.

I realize this is the time of year when we should try to be especially kind, generous and loving to people, but I'm gonna go out on a limb and be offensive. I'm gonna say "Merry Christmas," dammit. Well, maybe withhold the curse. I mean I don't need to offend everybody!

Just "Have a merry Christmas!" And I mean it.

Comic relief

My husband and I have fallen into a routine for our 50-minute commute to and from work.

There are so many "talk" morning shows on the radio to choose from. And while we could potentially enhance our intelligence listening to NPR, we choose not to engage our brains so early in the day.

When we first started the drive to Iola 4 years ago, we listened to Bob and Sheri. We got a little tired of all the whining losers on that show, so we were excited when a local station started carrying the Bob and Tom show. Granted, some of the content is a bit risque, but for the most part, it's pretty darn entertaining.

What we enjoy is hearing their comedic guests -- some people you know from TV and movies, most are just known on the comedy club circuits. Jim and I have seen quite a few of these when they've traveled through Wisconsin on the "Friends of Bob and Tom Comedy Tour." Tonight we were treated to two acts who actually stopped in Wisconsin Rapids.

Paul & Storm and Tim Cavanagh are musically talented comics who made us laugh for a solid 2 hours. My face actually hurt from smiling so hard!

Kind of strange to be out on a date in the middle of the week, but it was a great stress reliever. I'd recommend it to anyone. We'd also urge you to keep an eye out for one of their many comedy tours coming to a venue near you. Who doesn't deserve a break today?

By the way, the other half of our commuting routine includes our gripe session on the way home from work. We each get any problems or stressors off our chests and out of our minds so we don't have to think about work when we get home. (Yeah, right.) If that doesn't work, we blast a little classic rock until those thoughts dance right out of our heads.

Christmas couch potato

I'm a sucker for holiday movies -- old or new. It's the one time of year I'll get sucked into those made-for-TV movies on the Lifetime and Hallmark channels.

I like the old favorites - Holiday Inn, Miracle on 34th Street, It's a Wonderful Life. I also like the more "modern" selections like National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation, pretty much any version of The Christmas Carol and, of course, A Christmas Story.

Maybe I just like happy endings. I'm pretty sure, though, it has something to do with the holiday message that seems to shine through (even in the low-budget flicks with no-name actors) -- where I get a lump in my throat, grab a Kleenex and feel all Christmasy inside. They all come back to the real reason for the season -- how a special gift some 2,000 years ago gives us hope. A pretty good thing to have at this time of year.

Isn't it weird how our lives cycle with the calendar? Why are we burnt out, stressed out and cashed out by the time the holiday season comes around? For some reason, we are. Instead of thinking how wonderful Christmas is, we just look to survive it so we can get this year over with!

I'm sure that's why I love the pick-me-up I get from those sappy movies, or listening to Christmas music, or looking at the tree lights with Jim, or drinking eggnog with Carter.

Even now I was just yelling outside to Jim that he looks like he's in a snow globe, out there shoveling in the yardlight with the pretty sparkling flakes falling around him. That's the first time I've seen a snow globe figurine with its middle finger up. Hmmm... I think he could use a cup of hot cocoa and a Lifetime movie!

Abracadabra!

Do you believe in magic? I'm not so sure I still do. At some point I became disillusioned with the illusionists -- sort of like when we discoverd there was no Santa Claus or learned All-Star Wrestling was fake. (Did I write that?)

Tonight we took Carter to a magic show. The grade school kids in the area got free tickets to the event, sponsored by a reputable state organization. The free tickets were the first illusion of the night. Sure the kids got in free, but they were charging the parents 10 bucks a pop to join them. I decided Jim and I better enjoy the heck out this show!

And I tried. I think I spent too much time trying to "see through" the tricks. Carter figured some out, too, but enjoyed himself immensely. I figured most things out, but am still puzzled by the illusion where the lovely assistant is separated from part of her body.

I'm glad I was stumped. I don't want to be too old for magic. I still want to be surprised and entertained. I don't want everything to be predictable. I don't want to be too grown up to believe in that which I cannot see.

As a kid, we called this phenomenon magic. As an adult, we call it faith.

Do you still believe in something?

All I want for Christmas is...

Part of the fun of Christmas is making out your wish list for Santa's consideration -- and anyone else who will take a look at it.

I remember when I was a child, I would look through the Sears Christmas Catalog and cut out every doll and toy a little girl could want. I stuffed all those tiny bits of paper in an envelope with a brief letter to Santa that basically said "see enclosed."

Carter isn't much for writing an actual letter to Santa, but he's a pro at this list-making business. Last year, and I kid you not, his list (when unrolled) was taller than me! For those who know I am vertically challenged, it takes 93 items to surpass 5 feet!

It was some list alright. It had everything electronic from iPod, PS2, Nintendo Wii and electric guitar to the simple -- a toy bow & arrow and "socks without holes in them" (that's a direct quote!).

When I asked Carter to give us a list for this year, he grabbed last year's and spent some time crossing out items he either received in the past year or no longer desires. He hands it to me and in bold at the top it says: 2006=93 items; 2007=17!!

So what changed? Well, he finally crossed off the laptop, iDog and iFish, but he still wants the video gaming systems, the guitar, a drum set, a ping-pong table and a pink shirt that says "Tough Guys Wear Pink." (That's a direct quote, too.)

Santa's job isn't so easy. Carter is definitely on the nice list this year, but does that mean Santa's Helpers (Mommy and Daddy) give the nice boy a bunch of nice toys he will be done playing with by Valentine's Day? (Does he even remember what he got last year?) I bet we're not the only parents who find that disappointing.

I'm sure we're not the only parents who also want to give our children more than we ever found in our stockings. It was never much. But you know what? I remember those -- the blue purse, the teddy bear and the paper dolls.

More importantly, I remember our family traditions -- the program for Mom and Dad, playing cards and games, watching Christmas movies on the black-and-white TV, eating homemade peanut brittle and candy.

If I was making a wish list, I'd want those memories and traditions re-created for the next generation. I bet I wouldn't even need Santa's assistance for that -- just some help from those nice guys I live with!

Let it snow (somewhere else!)

OK, someone in the Midwest must have ticked off Mother Nature because she is giving us a doozy of a "welcome to December" today. Just because I spent the day Christmas shopping yesterday does not mean I am ready for the winter wonderland aspect of the holidays.

According to my friends at the Weather Channel, we've gotten 4-6 inches already -- and it doesn't show signs of stopping. We are still smack dab in the midst of a winter storm warning with promises of sleet and freezing rain tonight. (I'm not even setting my alarm for church in the morning.)

After my shopping excursion yesterday, it was Jim's turn today. He took the big boys over the Appleton to let them pick out some presents. Thankfully they made it home safely -- though it was slow going.

Carter and I ran our errands before the snow hit hard. Then we popped in the Christmas Story DVD and watched/listened while we decorated the tree. I put up some other decorations while Carter tested out his new boots in the new snow. He went sledding down our little hill out back for about an hour. The boots passed the test. Still warm and still dry.

Remember how his 10-day chore contract included shoveling the driveway? Here we never thought he'd need to do that! He did brush off his big brother's car but we decided the driveway called for the snowblower ... which, unfortunately refused to work for Jim. Thankfully we have the world's greatest neighbors with snowblowers!

Looks like the snow will keep up on and off until Thursday (when the low is predicted to be below zero) so Carter just might get some shoveling time in after all. I'll be happy to stay indoors, wrapping presents, drinking eggnog and trying to catch Jim under the mistletoe!

Glass half something

I pride myself in trying to find the positive in situations but this week has been a tough one. In our corporate world we've had some layoffs, job eliminations really, so I'll be saying goodbye soon to some of my workers and some friends.

Of course, with the announcement of terminating employees and some publications (including a few of mine), there is feverish activity to determine how to move forward, control the message in and outside the walls, and establish who may be doing what. This is the main reason why I have not had time (or taken time) to write. Secondary to that is the fact that I'm just plain bummed.

Sure I'm grateful that my hubby and I were spared, but it's tough to feel good when there is much disappointment, frustration and fear in the atmosphere. They say everything in life happens for a reason. I do believe that. But sometimes I really have to search hard for what that reason might be.

In this case, with the under-performing publications out of the way, my remaining team members can focus on our core brands and help them succeed. It could be a good thing. But until my glass changes from half empty to half full, I may not see that.

To cope, four of us "girls" have taken tomorrow off and we are going shopping. Nothing like a little retail therapy to fill that glass!

She's domestic!

For the record: Despite my well-earned reputation as an undomestic goddess, I made homemade meatballs tonight to go with our spaghetti supper.

Not sure what came over me, but I was brave enough to handle the raw meat (not my favorite thing to do), mix it with an egg and cracker crumbs, and roll it into perfect meatballs. I burned not a one. Got two thumbs up from the hubby and son.

It didn't kill me to do something domestic, but I sure got some bad foot cramps this evening. Probably have something to do with taking a brisk walk at lunch in flat shoes with no support. But I'm not sure I should push it.

10 Days of Christmas

I was reading on the news wire today that participating in the 12 Days of Christmas is outrageously expensive these days.

It would cost $78,100 to buy the 364 items, from a single partridge in a pear tree to the 12 drummers drumming, repeatedly on each day as the song suggests, according to some annual pricing survey. The cost is up 4 percent from $75,122 last year.

That's a lot of money -- considering it will be all over a month from today already. (I know. Sorry to mention that.) Hopefully there are a lot of people out there who understand that turtle doves and maids-a-milking are not what the "season of giving" is all about.

The fourth-grade classes at Grant Elementary have a neat project going on. They are raising some money this holiday season for the domestic-abuse shelter in Wisconsin Rapids. How are they doing this? Thankfully, not selling pizzas or overpriced trinkets. Instead, each child is committing to doing some household chores for the next week and a half to earn a special allowance that will be donated to The Family Center.

Carter decided on five chores: make his bed, clean the litter box, fold his laundry, take out the garbage and shovel the driveway (I sure hope we don't need his services for that one in the next 10 days!)

We asked him how much he thought he should earn. Somehow he came up with $7.25 -- I remember he said $3 for shoveling and I think $1.25 for laundry. He read us the list and Jim and I are smiling because he's so precise about this. "What?" he says. "Do you think $1.25 is too much for the laundry?"

We tell him that the thing is, he should be thinking about what he wants to be able to give to the center, not so much about what a real allowance may be worth. We already had a figure in mind (definitely more than what he proposed!). We asked if he'd be willing to do these chores for the next 10 days so he could earn that amount -- and give it to The Family Center so they, in turn, can give some unfortunate families a merry Christmas. He enthusiastically said yes.

I applaud the school's efforts. I think it's a great way for kids to learn young that this is the season of giving, not just getting, and that it won't kill them to work hard in order to help others. That's why some of us give to the church and to charities all year long.

The spirit of giving should not be limited to Carter's 10-day project or the 12 days in the song. Don't you agree?

Cookie Monsters

Carter and I spent two days Up North for my family's annual Cookie Bake & Exchange. I'm not sure when this started as a tradition, but for several years now we've gotten together the Saturday after Thanksgiving to bake cookies then exchange 'em.

What we learned early on is that it's nearly impossible for 10 people to get their cookies baked in one afternoon -- especially when the recipes call for varying oven temperatures. As a result, most of us make our treats ahead of time, then just show up to eat, visit, play games and eat some more. Then go home with at least 10 plates of different cookies. M-m-m. What could be better?

I can tell you the cookies are not the best part of the Cookie Bake. Here are some things that are even better ...

* Listening to Christmas music the whole way up and back -- except for the intermission where we had to play the Dark Side of the Moon CD. Daddy wasn't with but I'm sure he'll be proud when I tell him that. (He also didn't have to listen to the 12 Days of Christmas 4 times! He'll probably feel pretty good about that, too.)

* Watching Carter get to play with his cousin -- my great-nephew Anthony -- who he only gets to see 2-3 times a year. They are both the same age and it so interesting to see each year how much they are alike -- and different!

* Connecting with the previous and next generations while playing new board games and card games and old favorites.

* Seeing my dad try to sneak in new rules for those games so he can win!

* Catching up with my niece, who doesn't have e-mail (the nerve) so I am often out of touch with her. Apparently that phone weighs 400 pounds. One of these days, I'll figure out how to bench press it and call her!

* Helping "taste test" the new recipes. "M-m-m. What's in here?" "Well the recipe uses 1 1/2 sticks of butter." Ohmigosh. Sorry I asked. "May I have another?"

* Drawing names, making wish lists and finalizing Christmas plans. We only have one month of shopping left?!

* Arriving home safely to a totally clean kitchen and refrigerator (Thanks, honey!) -- and of course, a Vikings win!

* Helping Jim and Casey "taste test" the treats. Oh, did I already mention that? I guess the cookies are a pretty important part of the Cookie Bake after all!

Black Friday

Oh, it felt so good to sleep in this morning instead of risking life and limb for a darn discount! I am not one of those bargain-driven divas that had to get to Wal-Mart by 5 a.m. or, good grief, Kohl's by 4 a.m.!

Today is called Black Friday -- the day retailers must do really well to end the year in the black. Each year, they start their "door buster" bargains earlier and earlier. When I saw 4 a.m. on a commercial earlier this week, though, my jaw dropped. Who would get up that early -- and how would you function?!

My hubby said the only way to do it was go out Thursday night, close down the saloons, head to Perkins for a 2 a.m. breakfast, then go to Kohl's and wait in line. Thankfully, I saw nothing in their circular worth doing that (plus I saw on the Weather Channel that is was supposed to get down to 14 degrees. The savings is not worth it.)

The only reason we even think about going shopping the day after Thanksgiving is Jim's family. We draw names among us 6 adults and most of the time, the "lists" are comprised of clippings from Black Friday circulars. In order to get the particular item and stay within our price limit, we almost have to go -- unless we'd rather not set an alarm and just pay the difference (that's me!).

As it turned out, since we had the day off, we did go shopping. But we didn't leave the house until 10 a.m. That left enough time to get to Fleet Farm by 11 a.m. to get some on-sale winter boots for Carter. Got the last parking spot there. While we were in Stevens Point, we swung over to Dunham's Sports so Jim could get my present. Yes, he drew my name and no, he didn't keep it a secret. At least I know "it" fits and "it" is just what I wanted.

Later this afternoon, I had to run into Wal-Mart for a few groceries. A bit of a nuthouse there. Not the best day to pick up a few items! I saw one person I knew but mostly kept my head down and charged forward, hoping Carter was close behind. Not the day to be browsing or asking, "Mom, can I have this?"

I think I figured out the secret to a successful Black Friday. Stay focused and, if at all possible, just stay home. At least you'll keep your checkbook in the black.

Attitude of gratitude

I was awakened to the sound of a distance gunshot this morning -- not unusual in Wisconsin in the middle of gun-deer season. Today especially, those hunters want to get done early so they can be inside to watch the Packers game and eat enough food to feed a homeless family for a week.

Sometime today most people will pause over their cranberries, stuffing and small mountain of mashed potatoes to give thanks, too. And that's what I love about this holiday. Just about everyone practices this attitude of gratitude that many of us try to adopt in our everyday lives. Sure, we're grateful for the big things -- our families and our health -- but it's the little things that matter. The little gifts that add up.

I am grateful this morning, for example, that Carter said I was beautiful -- even though I had just showered, my hair was wet, I had no makeup on and I was wearing sweats and slippers. OK, sorry for that visual. What else am I thankful for?

I am thankful for my parents who cherish memories of my childhood -- even though it clutters up their house. Every time I visit, they show me some card I made or poem I wrote. Some little memento they've secured in a safe place for decades.

I am thankful for my sisters and their love, support and camaraderie. They say you can choose your friends, but not your family. I am grateful they are my friends, too.

I am grateful for my brother and his faith. Despite so much adversity, he does not doubt God's plans for him. I admire his strength and endurance.

I am thankful for my girlfriends at work. If I am having a stressful day, at a moment's notice, I can turn to any of them and say "I need a lap." We'll head outside, take a walk around the building and they'll let me vent. They'll let me cry. They'll say "I understand" or give me a hug if I need it.

I am so grateful for old friends and the "long lost" friends I have reconnected with this year. I feel so fortunate to have had such wonderful people walk with me through different parts of my life's journey.

I am thankful for my "teachers," my mentors, the old-timers (no offense) who have shown me the pathway to success in all areas of my life. Have picked me up when I've fallen. Have cheered me on with encouragement to keep going.

I am grateful for my step-sons and oh so thankful God is watching over them and keeping them safe. It's a scary world out there for young drivers and for teenagers in general. So many dangerous "opportunities" trying to lure them into having fun. I'm grateful for every time God gives them the nudge to make the right choices.

I am thankful for my son, who can make me smile or laugh or cry at the drop of a hat. I am grateful for his wisdom. It entertains me and impresses me and teaches me to keep it simple.

I am grateful beyond measure for my husband, who can also make me smile or laugh or cry at the drop of a hat. (No, just kidding). I am thankful for his love, support, generosity and his willingness to stick by me through both the charm and the dysfunction.

I am thankful to you for reading this blog today (and this year). Do me -- and yourself -- a favor and take time to think of all the little (and big) things you have to be thankful for. You'll be amazed at the long list! Try to do this every day and you'll find a contentment that lasts long after that piece of pumpkin pie.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Initial thoughts

It's interesting in this fast-paced world that we don't even have time to talk anymore -- with complete words, that is. Just FYI, I'll get to my point ASAP.

Does it really take too long to say "for your information" or "as soon as possible"? LMK. You know, LMK ... "let me know." At some point, a certain initialism or acronym reaches critical mass and we no longer have to spell it out, so to speak.

Is there anyone out there who doesn't know what FBI or CIA stand for? How about DJ or MVP or PMS? We know now -- though at one point it was something new, just like all those text message shortcuts are foreign to me these days.

To add to the confusion, every occupation has its own set of abbreviations, too. (If you want to see a funny illustration of this, watch "Renaissance Man." It's an old Danny Devito movie where he had to learn all the Army abbreviations -- way beyond KP.) Insurance companies have their HMOs and PPOs. Large corporations have their ROIs. And accountants have their IRAs.

What if two worlds collide and they share the same abbreviation? It happens.

We were at the bank so Carter could deposit some money into his savings account. Don't ask me how he accumulated $57 over the summer, but he did -- and was smart enough not to spend any of it (that I know of). So he makes his deposit and looks at his balance. He was quite happy because I have been putting money from each of my paychecks in there so it has grown more than he expected.

"Plus, we have that money on the disk," he says.

Money on the disk? The hamster is turning the wheel as fast as it can in my head and getting nowhere. Then the light bulb goes on. "The disk?" I say. "Oh you mean the CD?"

"Yeah," says Carter. Ahhh. OK. I'm trying hard not to laugh. Just breathing in and out as I explain: "Actually the CD stands for Certificate of Deposit. It's not a music CD."

We got it squared away. Made me wonder what else we assume everyone knows. I mean, you know what happens when we assume. Don't you? Or haven't you young folks heard that one yet? LMK, K?

In a fog

The fog was thicker than pea soup -- though I prefer egg nog -- this morning on my commute to work. Hubby and I drove separately today so I could get in early and get crackin' on a special project that had to go out the door today. With the fog slowing me down, I didn't get in as early as I'd hoped anyway. But I got some thinking time in...

Sometimes our lives are in a bit of a fog, aren't they? Sure I can "drive" that daily commute in my head, but the actions -- getting behind the wheel -- are a little scarier.

Right now I am adjusting to a new job, mainly different responsibilities, with the same company. What I enjoyed with the old job is the comfort of my drive on a sunny, clear day. What I am not enjoying in the new one is the dense fog when I am rounding a curve and met with new procedures, new people and new challenges.

I couldn't drive very fast this morning. Once you get a slow-going vehicle in front of you, you have to slow down and it is unquestionably stupid and dangerous to attempt to pass.

I want to learn my new job quickly. Can't everyone help speed this process along? Hit the gas! It's the pedal on the right! I am convinced God often puts people and obstacles in our path to make us slow down and get our bearings. Where are we? Where are we headed? Is that where we want to go?

The fog clears momentarily as I travel over the crest of a hill. It's so nice to see where I'm going again!

As we learn, we experience several of these moments of clarity. Those "a-ha" moments. We gain some confidence. This feels good. I feel safe. I understand my job today more than yesterday.

As the morning progresses and the sun readies to present itself, the fog starts thinning. Just as I am about to reach my destination, the fog lifts and gives me a beautiful pink and golden sunrise.

Hey, I think I'm going to like this new career growth opportunity! Despite the limited visibility today, I know I can handle this commute. If God sends a new patch of fog in my pathway, I'll just use my "fog lights" to get me through -- my co-workers, friends and family.

A prayer for a safe journey wouldn't hurt either.

Progress report

Do you remember the nights your parents had to go meet your teachers for the parent-teacher conferences? Even if you considered yourself a good student, you'd feel a little anxious and you'd keep your fingers crossed that there would be nothing but good said about you.

It's different being on the other side of the scenario now. We the parents hold some power on these nights! Or we find out we are powerless over our children.

Tonight we had conferences for two of the boys. Jim went to the junior high for Clay's. He was not looking forward to it. Clay is still struggling with 9th grade. Well struggling isn't even the appropriate word because a person can't struggle when there is no effort.

Needless to say, Jim wasn't surprised to hear that Clay could help his grades if he attended school on a regular basis. I've mentioned before that Clay comes up with some sort of an ailment at least one day a week to miss school. As a result, he's not getting in-class work done or his homework. The key words heard: He's got potential if he'd show up. At this point, I think the teachers are feeling as powerless as we are.

Carter's conference, on the other hand, was pretty positive. Just like Clay, he's got potential but the difference is -- he's applying it. His teacher joked with us that she plans to fail Carter so she can keep him another year. That gave us a good feeling. Yes, he's a social butterfly, but already excelling in all subjects particularly math and, what a surprise, English/writing. (We got to read some entertaining samples of his work. I told him it's about time he starts a blog!)

His teacher said he's a bright, intelligent kid and we should feel fortunate about that. And we really should. We are gratefull all three boys are bright. We just have to help Clay find the motivation and help Carter keep it. Hmm... I wonder if they teach classes in that!

Small world

Friends of mine who have gone to Disney World and Disney Land say they hear the song "It's a Small World" no less than a dozen times during their visit. The lyrics are meant to bring us all closer, like one big happy family, but the song gets a bit annoying after the 8th or 9th time ... OK maybe after the 3rd time.

These days, when I think of a "small world" I look at the vast communication networks -- through phones, computers, satellites -- that make it seem like a friend or colleague in China is in the same room. All these technological advances are making this seem like a really small world.

Today, I got a chance to see just how small we are.

This afternoon we visited the state of the art planetarium at the University of Wisconsin-Stevens Point, just up the road. It was a first visit for Carter and me -- and we were quite impressed.

The director spent the first several minutes pointing out stars, planets and constellations we likely would see on a night like tonight (close to the official end of summer). I think he could have spent the whole time teaching us on that and it would have been enough to retain. We saw the Milky Way and realize Earth is such a teeny tiny part of it. Literally a really small world.

The second part of the presentation was on the NASA space program -- its successes as well as its failures. (I still get choked up when I see the Challenger explosion from 1986.) What was interesting about this part is NASA's plans for the future. Did you know that by the time Carter graduates from high school in 2016 there may be an "outpost" on the moon? A place where astronauts and scientists can work, study and research? Incredible.

If you ever get a chance to check out a planetarium, I'd encourage you to do so. It's pretty interesting no matter what your age. And it gives you a new perspective on where we are and what's out there.

It's supposed to be a clear night tonight so I might just have to do a little star gazing in the hot tub -- hey, that's the best of both small worlds, don't ya think?

Extreme Makeover :: Conclusion

OK, since my fans were clamouring for an updated "new hair" picture (blah, blah, blah), I had Jim take one of me (at left) after we went out to dinner Friday night.

There are two ways I can style my hair now (that I recall from the hairdresser's instructions). When it's styled like this picture, I guess I don't look so different after all. Or maybe I'm used to it already!

Carter did point out the grays are gone now. Thanks, son. I hadn't even thought about that. You have to appreciate the honesty of children. You might as well appreciate it -- because you can't stop it! And, in this case, he found another reason to validate my pampering! So thanks, son. Sincerely.

Lost in Translation :: Part 2

The Austin family is probably due for a tune-up -- or at least an ear cleaning.

Not too long ago, I mentioned a few examples of Carter's translations of Daddy and Mommy-speak (remember hilarious was heard as "how Larry is.") Well now I've had a doozy of my own.

This week was the achievement tests for the fourth-graders. It's not the kind of test the students can study for so the teacher just encouraged us parents to be sure our kids got to sleep early and ate a hearty breakfast.

Each night when we pick Carter up at the sitter's after school, we always ask how his day is and see what homework he has so we can plan our evening. So I asked, "What do you have to do tonight?" I thought his response was, "Nothing, just wrestling practice."

Well this is the first I've heard of that. I asked: "Wrestling practice? Why do you have that? For gym?"

I was quickly corrected. "Mom, I didn't say wrestling practice, I said rest and breakfast!"

Rest and breakfast. Wrestling practice. Rest and breakfast.

Either I'm losing my mind or my hearing. Don't say it. Probably a little bit of both. And that's not funny (or how Larry is).

Dodging bullets

We're just about to embark on deer hunting season here in Wisconsin, when blaze orange is fashionable whether you're a hunter, a "hunter's widow" or just don't want to get shot while you're outside.

I come from a long line of non-hunters but I know a thing or two about dodging bullets. You've all heard the expression before. When someone has a near-miss, a catastrophe avoided, we say we "dodged a bullet."

I had a health scare recently. And yes, I'll use the word scare. It starts out as a concern. Then there are some tests. Then, while you wait a week for the results, your mind conjures up all sorts of possibilities and it becomes a full-blown scare. What if it's this? What if it's that?

I wish I could be one of those "glass half full" types, but I'm not. Not consistently at least. I was concerned. I was scared. My imagination ran wild. This morning, though, my doctor informed me my tests were clear. That part is a relief. Of course, this means I still have symptoms searching for a cause. I do have some options to consider and trust me, I'm calm about this. I dodged what I consider the big bullet. It will be OK.

What did I learn from this? The unknown is pretty stinkin' scary, isn't it? It really tests our faith. I can't honestly believe that for one minute I am in control of much of anything in my life. There's a higher power who handles that and I have to believe He won't throw anything my way I can't handle.

Yes, I did dodge a bullet. So what am I going to do about it? Show my gratitude by taking care of my body in ways I can control. I finally said goodbye to my desk for an hour today and went running at lunch. I also returned to Weight Watchers and faced the music there.

It's a start. You can still dodge bullets with baby steps. Just be sure to throw on some blaze orange!

Artist in residence

Any parent will tell you, close to a truckload of art projects find their way home to us each school year. Of course, no matter what they look like, we are proud of each one (and say so!) and are occasionally thrilled some creative DNA has reached another generation.

Carter has a new art teacher this year. One of his first lessons was line drawings. I was never any good at this stuff, but this teacher had a great idea. He turned the item they were "copying" upside down so the kids were concentrating on the lines -- not the image.

I hope you can tell by the picture at right that their big project was drawing Mona Lisa. You can barely make out Carter's name on the lower right -- it looks like it's written upside down because during the activity, that was the top left of the paper and, therefore, rightside up. (Stop and re-read. It does make sense.)

We told Carter he did a great job. He was especially pleased with the background. "We got to choose the background setting so I drew her sitting in a monster truck!"

Mona Lisa in a monster truck?! And they say kids aren't using their imagination these days!

Extreme makeover

I blame my friend Jana for pushing this notion that women deserve to be pampered on occasion. I blame her ... and I thank her.

In an unprecedented move for me, I took the morning off to have my hair done. Jana did, too. She came with me for moral support! Why would I need moral support? Well, for me I was venturing into the unknown and I wanted a friend to hold my hand, so to speak, along the journey.

Yes, the unknown. I don't think I've spent more than the Cost Cutters minimum on any sort of haircut ever. And I certainly haven't paid anyone to color or style my hair either. So this was something new for me. Plus, I had decided I wanted a change -- a bold change perhaps -- and I needed Jana there so I couldn't talk myself out of it.

I think I owe her a consulting fee, too. She helped pick out the color "recipe" and advised on the cut and style as well. I loved the new color -- a mix of red, brown and blond -- but it was tough to see the hairdresser cut off 3 inches from the back of my hair. (Do you know how long it took me to grow that? It takes forever for my hair to grow!) In the end, I was OK with that, too.

Of course, now I have the challenge of replicating her style on a daily basis! I'll see how I do. I was going to post a picture but I just got home and it's lost some of its fluff and flips. So I'll have a new one taken soon. Just know that change can be good -- and you can like it!

It helped that I had such a positive response when I returned to work (including thumbs up from hubby). I heard: "You look great!" It made me wonder why I hadn't done it sooner. Then I heard a few times: "It makes you look younger!" And that made me wonder how old I looked when I woke up this morning and again, why hadn't I done this sooner.

Thanks, Jana, for being so pushy on the pampering thing. You're right, we do deserve it! I encourage you all to try it sometime.

The sick ward (or reward)

Carter bounced back from his 24-hour bug and was perfectly fine to go back to school today. His big concern was that the Wisconsin achievement testing for 4th-graders started today. His second biggest concern was that his book order was due.

I know when I was a kid, I was lucky to get something once a year from the infamous book order. In fact, I remember exactly what I got: a Road Runner book, the Guinness Book of World Records one year and a Benji poster. That's it for my whole school career. Somewhere along the line we did get all the Laura Ingalls Wilder books -- but I don't think that was through school book orders.

Now that Carter has really been into reading this year, I try to order a book each time. But there are no promises. Each time, though, he religiously goes through the brochure and circles everything he wants. I tell myself I am not spoiling him because I am buying one item instead of the 6 he wants. (That's what I tell myself.)

This morning he really wanted this Captain Underpants fun pack. I told him I wasn't planning to order anything. "I don't have to get something for you every time," I said. His response, "But Mom, I was sick."

Oh, total flashback to when I was his age. Apparently one year for our Mother's Day program, when we had to read a poem about our mothers, little Robyn said, "My mom loves me best when I'm sick." Mom was somehow horrified by that and has never let me forget that. I think my intention was to express how much I enjoyed the extra attention when I was sick. But I think Marlys was embarrassed I was telling the world that's the only time I got attention.

I don't want Carter thinking that about his mother, but I bought him the book anyway. I did tell him, though, that it was because he has been doing well with his reading (more than 1,000 minutes in October!) -- not because he was sick. I guess only time (or a Mother's Day program) will tell if he believes that.

Would you rather...

Have you ever played the game "would you rather"? Participants are asked to choose between two incredibly unattractive options -- like would you rather kiss a toad or be covered with ants? You get the picture -- the obvious choice is usually to quit the game!

Had I been playing it this weekend, though, my options would have been: Would you rather watch Carter puke all day Saturday or watch the Vikings "puke" all day Sunday? Lucky me, I go to "choose" both. And both made me sick on some level.

It was 6:30 Saturday morning when Carter was up and on the toilet. Then the rest of the day, he couldn't keep anything down. He was all worried about missing school. They have the big tests this week for fourth-graders -- 4 days' worth -- so it would pretty inconvenient to miss school.

I told him not to worry -- he probably just had the 24-hour flu. He certainly took that to heart. This morning, he sneaks in our room and I hear him tell Jim: "Dad, it's been exactly 24 hours now, so I'm OK." Luckily, that is the case. He's been taking it easy today and thankfully has been able to eat again.

As for the other option, in this game. Yes, I forced myself to watch that, too, and it was just as nauseating. I didn't expect the Vikings to win. I just wanted it to be a close game. If not that, I at least wanted them to score! Yikes.

Apparently, it just wasn't meant to be a good weekend in the Austin house. Luckily, Carter and I have found the cure to what ails us -- a shot of eggnog! (Yes, it's in the stores and of course, I bought some!)

It doesn't do anything to sooth my bruised purple pride. But it helps get me through the grueling phone calls from those loving family members who have the sudden urge to reach out and touch someone (guess who?!) when the Packers beat the Vikings.

Surprise! :: Part 2

Shh... Don't tell anyone in my house, but I am listening to Christmas music as I type this! I've popped in one of Manhein Steamroller CDs and I am in the mood to get this holiday season started!

Now that Halloween is over, it is safe to talk about Christmas, just not time yet to crank the volume on the holiday tunes unless others are out of earshot. Some people just aren't ready for it yet. I can't help but love this time of year -- and cooking up surprises left and right. Yes, these are the kind of surprises I do like!

I'm sure any parent will agree. This is our opportunity -- our responsibility, really -- to help spread the magic. We are selfishly grateful that for just one more year, our children still believe in Santa. Still believe in surprises. Still believe in the power of giving.

For the past few years, Jim and I have concentrated our "surprise" efforts on gifts for the boys. The bigger boys are getting tougher and tougher to buy for each year, but Carter still lives in that bubble of anticipation and happiness around Christmastime.

During this same time period, Jim and I haven't really given each other gifts. We try to get something for the family or for the house. Last year, we painted our living room and got new furniture. "Santa" still had to buy something little for our stockings, though, so we're not left out on Christmas morning.

Honestly, I have so much fun trying to surprise others, I don't mind knowing what I'm getting. And this year will be no different. Since we had the day off together yesterday, Jim and I managed to get some Christmas shopping done. (Wow, before Thanksgiving even!) We helped Santa pick out a Carhartt jacket for Daddy and a set of golf clubs for Mommy. What? No gifts for the house? They must have been very good this year!

To cap off our day, we attended a surprise 40th birthday party for someone at work. And he really was totally surprised! That was cool.

It really does feel good to give when someone isn't expecting anything. Isn't that was this season is all about? The greatest gift? What a wonderful surprise! No wonder I love Christmas!

OK, I better shut off this music before I get busted! Plus, I have more surprises to plan -- and actually have wrapping to do! Let the season begin...

Gr(ey)ve concerns

Have you been paying attention to this Hollywood writers' strike? Since I'm not much of a television watcher, it didn't concern me ... at first.

I heard about late-night shows having to air reruns. I'm in bed before 10 so I don't care much about that. Then I heard about some sitcoms and dramas that were only shot a week or so in advance so their fresh material will soon run its course. I probably can live with that. But now I heard Grey's Anatomy only has limited episodes. Yes, I'm sitting up to take notice!

Never fear, Grey's fans. I have it on good authority there's no need for alarm just yet. According to McDreamy (oh yeah, he has a real name -- Patrick Dempsey), one of the celebs lending support to the Writers Guild of America and their cause, Grey's probably has enough episodes to get us to Christmas.

OK. So then what? If they run reruns for the New Year, does the season extend to summer? The last major writers' strike happened back in 1988 and lasted nearly 6 months. Do you really think this one will last that long? And how do I become one of these valued writers who actually gets paid?

I probably should treasure each Grey's episode like it's my last! Maybe this will give the show's writers some time to think up some good story lines. No offense, but there's been some lack of sizzle this season.

Perhaps they are looking for some writers to fill in. I know of someone who would write for cheap. And I'm sure she'd be very professional about meeting McDreamy, McSteamy, McAnybody she could ...

Side effects

Television commercials for pharmaceuticals these days are so scary they're almost entertaining.

Whether it's your head, heart, feet or parts we don't need to talk about, most of the commercials start out with this serene scene on the beach or in a hammock or perhaps enjoying a Sunday drive. Your life will be so calm and wonderful with this new drug.

Then you hear the "possible" side effects. Typically, you'll deal with fatigue, nausea and headaches. But in some rare cases, they say, your heart will race, you'll poop your pants, you'll bleed out of your ears and you'll grow hair on your nose.

Then, they suggest, you should report that to your doctor and stop taking the medication. You don't say?! Usually when I see these commercials I'm convinced I'd rather suffer with the health problem than the side effects!

My sister told me tonight she ran across the side effects for the medication our mom is taking for her restless legs syndrome -- called RLS these days, but known to all of us kids as "jerky legs." Apparently the drug Mom takes is capable of triggering compulsive behaviors.

I wish I was joking, but according to the company's Web site, the side effects for this drug really say: There have been reports of patients taking certain medications to treat Parkinson's disease or RLS (including Mom's) that have reported problems with gambling, compulsive eating, and increased sex drive.

Well I know my parents, especially Mom, enjoy an awful lot of time at the casino -- and I don't want details on anything else! I always associated the gambling with their retirement age. I mean who else has time to take all these casino bus trips? But could Mom's love for the nickel slots be tied to when she began those meds? If so, can we sue the drug company for her one-armed bandit losses?

Interesting, isn't it? Makes you want to start reading labels ... or perhaps start taking the Jerky Leg pills. You might be fat and poor, but according to patient reports, it'll spice up your marriage!

Winds of change

As Winnie the Pooh would say, it's a blustery day in the Hundred Acre Wood -- or in our case, the One Acre Wood. With gusts up to 40 mph or so, I thought it might even by Winds-Day already.

When I stopped to get gas this morning, my gloveless hands were freezing as the wind whipped all my hairspray out of my head. While I stood there shivering in our first "windchill" of fall, I thought, wow, I wish this wind could blow away some of these extra pounds, too. How about some of my troubles while it's at it.

Then I had my first cup of coffee and reality returned. Unfortunately, experience has taught me that for some things, there are no quick fixes -- not even cold, purpose-driven windblown ones. Most things I gotta tackle one day at a time, maybe just an hour at a time. The key is taking that first step. If your feet ain't moving, you ain't going anywhere!

I had this dream last night about a friend of mine who lives far, far away. I see her maybe 3 times a year. In this dream, I was surprised when I saw her. She had lost like 60 pounds and she looked awesome. How did you do it? I asked. Weight Watchers, she replied. I was immediately a little jealous of her success and a lot disgusted with my own efforts (or lack of them). If only I had stuck with the program, I'd be there, too!

When I awoke, that dream stuck with me all day. It definitely mirrors my current reality -- my current struggle, my current lack of dedication. In October, I got so caught up with my month of mini-vacations and travels (complete with many mammoth meals, of course), that I lost sight of my "plan" of action to lose weight. In fact, I completely lost the action part altogether. It's no wonder my progress has been reversed. I basically took a month off!

I know I didn't tack on the extra pounds overnight. And I know, as much as I hope and wish on stars, that it won't come off overnight either -- or in a strong windstorm. I need to pick up where I left off and start moving forward, just one step at a time.

If I'm lucky, there'll be times the wind is at my back, helping to push me along... maybe even bouncing along like Tigger in our One Acre Wood.

In the dark

The clocks on the walls are all changed now to reflect Daylight Saving Time. But our internal clocks are a bit off kilter.

I don't mind when we "fall back" -- but just for that one night when we get an extra hour of sleep. What I don't like is driving home from the work in the dark. And, within probably two weeks, we'll be driving to work in the dark, too.

Could it be worse? Yes. Guess what I saw today? Not to use any four-letter words in the blog, but there was SNOW in Wisconsin today. I thought I saw a few flakes outside my window, but was in denial. Jim confirmed later that it snowed just a teensy bit on his way home. According to Mr. Weatherman, we might get snow showers a couple of times this week.

Yuck! I guess I'm not ready yet. Why can't we do this one step at time? Change the clocks one day and oh, say a month later, we get the climate change. I could deal with that!

In the meantime, I'll have to be sure to take a walk at lunchtime so I actually see some sunlight. I'll have to be more productive at work since I won't be able to read anything during the commute. But first and foremost, I'll have to see if I can find Carter's winter jacket from last year -- then pray it still fits!

See, I told you I'm not ready. You'd think Mother Nature would understand we mothers need a period of adjustment before we spend another extended period of time in the dark!

Fired up

Did you hear the air horn sound off from our deck just a moment ago? The Vikings finally got a win! And by some stroke of luck, we actually got to watch the game on TV. We don't see too many of their games here in the heart of Packer country, so it was awesome to see a good one!

It was especially sweet to see them beat the Chargers. The last time I watched them play, it was in person, and it wasn't pretty.

Four years ago this weekend actually, Jim and I flew out to San Diego expecting to see a rockin' game. The Vikings had started out undefeated. We were on a roll. So on a whim -- and trust me, we don't have whims very often -- we decided to go out to the game and stay with a couple I knew through my new job.

At first, we were lucky to even get there. Just like this fall, the dry conditions and Santa Ana winds had fed wildfires everywhere out there. Just days before we were supposed to fly out, our friends had many of their belongings packed and were on standby for evacuation. Fortunately for them, the winds subsided, the fires were under control and their visitors from Wisconsin were able to come. Unfortunately for us, we still flew out there and learned an expensive lesson in humility.

I can't remember the exact circumstances, but for some reason Chargers QB Drew Brees was benched and old man Doug Flutie got to quarterback. He had just turned 41 so we were thinking: No problem, we'll kick his retirement butt.

Never underestimate the little guy. With his help, the Chargers kicked our purple pride all over San Diego, soundly defeating us 42-28. It was a long trolley ride back to the 'burbs. At least we enjoyed some sightseeing and sailing while we were out there -- so I did get a few scrapbook pages out of the trip! (Priorities, you know!)

Having learned my lesson in pride and all that, I will quietly enjoy the feeling of a W this week... and maybe not so quietly hope we stay "on fire" for next week's match-up against the Pack. I think I know better than to talk smack or boast prematurely. I think I know better... but that hasn't stopped me before!

Bugging out

I'm not a fan of creepy-crawly things -- especially ones that fly, too. Lady bugs are incredible pests this time of year, but do you get those Box Elder bugs in your house? We call them "stink bugs" 'cause if you kill them, they let off a stench. Trust me, I rolled over one in bed the other night, and that wasn't pleasant!

I also hate spiders and no one in our house wants to be anywhere near a bee these days. But to humor my dear son, I saw movies with him today about both of those critters. I don't go to many movies so I'm not qualified to "judge" them, but I'll put on my movie-critic hat anyway (we can do what we want in blogs, you know).

There has been some hype -- on kids cable channels anyway -- about The Bee Movie. I realized as much as I like Seinfeld, 90 minutes of Jerry was too much. They just tried too hard with the puns in this movie. They also threw in a bunch of adult humor and references that kids wouldn't understand. Carter has never heard of Sting, Larry King or Ray Liotta, so that was lost on him -- and I'm sure a lot of young viewers.

Carter and I agreed it was OK, just wasn't the best kids movie we've seen. Believe me, though, I've sat through worse! (My worst endurance test was Son of the Mask and Jim's was Rugrats in Paris. Oh, the sacrifices we make for our children!)

I asked Carter if seeing the funny bees in the movie make him less scared of bees. He said no, but if bees could really think like humans then they'd probably feel bad, especially if they sting someone who's allergic. But since they don't have human brains, they'll keep stinging us, unfortunately! Good point.

The other movie we watched was Spider-Man 3 on DVD. Carter went to see this in May with a buddy for their birthdays. This was the first Jim and I got to watch it. There's some creepy, scary stuff, but I liked it. This one I'd recommend!

Lots of action I'll probably re-live in weird dreams tonight! Good thing we turn the clocks back. I'll have an extra hour to see if Seinfeld will take on the Sandman! Whoops. Different movies. This is what happens when I watch two movies in one day. Now I know why I stick to one TV show a week. And if McDreamy shows up to save Spider-Man, then we know I've got problems ... well, we sort of know that already.

Seen any good movies lately?