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!