Secret Santa Meets Spock

This is what I found on my desk this morning from my secret santa:


This is gift 3. Gift 1 was Rudolph's Rockin' Raspberry Lip Balm. Hmm. Someone knows I am addicted to chapstick but the world can tell that.

Gift 2 is when I knew my SS was asking someone what I liked. I found chocolate covered cherries on my desk yesterday. No one outside of my department would know I love those as much as I do. AND they got the kind with the clear liquid, not the milky stuff. Kudos to them!

Today, gift 3, it's Star Trek, and Spock no less, who has always been my favorite. Don't recall telling that particular detail to the elf helping my Secret Santa so if he or she (I think it's a he) is guessing, then it might be a little scary. Especially if the person is who I think it is.

Thursday shall tell all!

Happy Holidays!

I tried to post a holiday message on time but darn it, it wasn't happening. Christmas Eve was my chance to do not one darn thing. Christmas Day is always hectic from beginning to end.

Since our living room and kitchen are on the same level as the bedrooms, I had to cover the door with a sheet and write a threatening message to the kids. Something to effect of "Stay Out! This Means You!"



They didn't go to sleep until about 11 so Mr. T and I had to wait another hour to get the stuff set up. But we did it and here is the before picture Christmas morning:



Yes, it's a tiny tree. We've had it since Son was born. I think we'll get a big one next year. No, the Dora kitchen wasn't a Christmas gift. It was a birthday gift that hangs out in the living room because furniture does not currently reside there so the kids do what they want there.

Christmas Day, for more years then I can remember now, has consisted of going to one sister-in-law's house for breakfast for a few hours, talking to family and, since kids came into the picture, watching them open the gifts their aunt and uncle got them.

Then we head over to Nana's where dinner is waiting and either eat or make plates to take home. Then the kids open more gifts from Nana and the other aunt and whomever else was giving enough to buy for them that year.

Usually this means getting home after dark, even though that only means it has to be about 4:30 or so. But this year we made it home while it was still light out. Even with the countless gifts from the family, there is apparently nothing like opening whatever you have under your own tree. So the kiddies tore into it and here are the after pictures:



The living room, which is not as bad as it could have been because this isn't all the paper. I have to clean as they go, you know.



And here's some spillage into the kitchen.

"This was a perfect, Christmas," says Son. He got his DS Lite with about 4 games PLUS a Wii (for the family) AND Pokemon cards, among the rest of his humongous haul, and that's all he ever wanted. He actually hugged Mr. T. He hasn't been that grateful since he was too young to care what he got.

It went by too fast but as usual, it was just great to sit around doing nothing, laughing with family members who are just insane and watching the joy the kids get out of their new stuff.

Hope you had the same joy.

Happy Holidays!

Secret Santa Strikes!

It's Secret Santa time at work. Has been all month. I would have written on it sooner but I could not risk anyone reading and finding out who I have. You see, I have told NO ONE because I think it's fun that way, and I have been listening to all the chatter surrounding the various gifts people have been discovering in their cubes and offices.

For a while I thought I had a guy SS because he/she had not made his/her presence known for a while. But one early morning I arrived at work about 7:40 a.m. (schools were closed due to snow. I can leave my house in one hour when that happens. Whoopee!) and discovered this on my portable drawer thingie:



(The leaves were a little more alive then but I never professed to having a green thumb. Or a red one either.) It had Christmas lights on it and a note to turn on the switch. OK. I was at work until well after 6 the night before and got in 2nd only after the Big Boss the next day, so when did this person strike? Crafty, SS. Very crafty.

Now yesterday, I came in to find this little hand-made treat sitting on my desk. At that time it was devoid of ornaments and presents. I sat it on the wall so everyone could see it. This morning I came in to find it back on my desk with ornaments and presents! SS is crafty indeed!



Today is the lunch and the big reveal. I don't know how we'll all get through the next 2 days with no more Secret Santa. It's going to be like staring at an empty Christmas tree. But for now, the giddy anticipation is giving everyone the shakes, sending us all back to childhood, no doubt. The holiday music WAS blaring from one of the TVs but it was turned down so we could, you know, work!

So back to it. I'll tell you the results later.

UPDATE: So what did I get? This:



and a whole lotta confusion. See I was handed the gift to open but the MC for the lunch said not to reveal our Secret Santas until the very end. He said this while I was in the midst of asking who mine was. (ALERT: REAL NAMES ABOUT TO BE USED! GASP!) Well one guy, Chris, was way to obliging about not telling so I said, "It's YOU! Thanks Chris!" He neither confirmed nor denied. By the end of the present-handing-outs, I was given a second, plainly-wrapped box that bore no resemblance to the nicely wrapped gift I received before. Chris said to open it. I was perplexed. Befuddled. Confused. "Everyone thought I had you so I got you this."

Huh?

So I opened it and it was a gift for his REAL recipient which was NOT me. I was meant to pass it on. OK. What's the deal? Turns out it was Mark who had Chris make the Christmas tree for me because he can do origami. But he arranged the flower and candies himself. Ohhhh! So the gift is from Mark. Thanks, Mark!

We use these at my house so it's perfect but Mark doesn't know how much because I've been thinking about where this should live - at work or at home. I'll tell him pretty soon. There is a lamp I saw at a gallery last week at a holiday party and this gift reminded me of that. I LOVED that funky lamp with it's square shape and colored glass. I can't get it out of my mind. Much like that banana art print in Barbados that I let get away. So I emailed the woman from the gallery who I was talking to and we'll see if I can find that baby. It was at the gallery to be artistic but it wasn't for sale. Hopefully, the artist makes them for sale. What a coup that would be. I think that lamp needs to live with me.

I'll tell you more about where this conversation led me in another post. For now, I'm signing off and wishing you all happy holidays! (In case I don't get back here soon.)

A Christmas List

Just a quick break from work to add an equally quick message to update my semi-neglected blog.



Life is going on and December is as sweet (and cold) as always.

1 - Today I celebrate the completion of my 37th year of life. (The flowers are from my Teddy Bear.) Ever since, years and years ago, I learned that the Chinese start counting from the day of birth, I've had it stuck in my head that each birthday is a completion as well as a beginning so I also see this day as the start of my 38th year. I think the Chinese would say that I am 38. Too strange to say because I still feel 18, 21 or whatever. I'm just happy to feel good because I know what feeling really, really bad is like. I like the good.

2 - My puzzles have FINALLY come in from my manufacturer as of this past Monday and the fundraiser is complete. Hallelujah! We have learned our lesson about what NOT to do next time and I just want to focus on next year but we have 2 more events to go and hopefully we'll make some sales. We did pretty good at the 2 other events we had this month. There is a ton of planning to do for next year and much, MUCH organization to do on both my partner's and my part. Ah but the potential. So much to do and so much to gain. With both she and I talking about needing extra money but having no extra time at all, there is equal incentive on both our parts to MAKE THIS WORK.

3 - I went to see my financial adviser this past Saturday. She is the best investment ever and I highly recommend getting one if you care about your money even the slightest bit but really don't care to stay in the financial market loop and make all the necessary moves on your own. I always leave there knowing I am falling way short of what I need to be where I really want to be but it's not depressing. At least I know what is happening and what the ideal is and - in the words of the Superfriends - knowing is half the battle! (NOTE: MY BROTHER CORRECTED ME. APPARENTLY IT WAS G.I. JOE WHO CLOSED HIS SHOW WITH THIS MEMORABLE SAYING. EITHER WAY, WE CLEARLY WATCHED TOO MUCH T.V. GROWING UP.)

4 - There is one week before Christmas and I think I won't buy one more thing for one more person right now. I Christmas shop with cash and that does not spring eternal so before I see red in my bank account, I must stop. I still want to get something for my co-workers, however, because I adore them but I want to give it some thought too so they will get to celebrate Christmas all over again in January. I am hoping to be really good next year and either start Christmas shopping in January, buying one or two gifts per month for one person or put aside a small amount until I see something I like for someone. I do so love to watch people opening gifts and when you manage to get something really fitting and/or unique, it's the star on the Christmas tree. So glad I was born in such a fun and giving month.

Back to work.

Let the Season Begin

Too busy to post Happy Thanksgiving posts. I'm terrible. But I hope you had a happy one! I chilled. I wrote. I ate. I chilled some more. I read. I wrote. I chilled lots more. I love doing nothing - when I want to do nothing.

Too busy to post this note. With 7 days and 15,000 words to go until the end of NaNoWriMo, the only thing I should be doing is writing my novel. Instead?

It's Sunday, we went to church and my friend's daughter got baptized today. She's 8. Son thought it was how she joined the church and had lots of questions but he still doesn't get it so I told him he can't do it until he does.

We had to also do the big see-you-later to our friends - the youngest sister of the same friend above - who have now fully moved to North Carolina with her family now that their house here has sold. They take with them the only boy in the world Son will be able to say has been a friend since birth, since his friend was born 6 weeks before he was. He mentioned all the other friends he has at school. I tried to explain to him the significance of a friend who's been in your life so long that you can't remember meeting - I only have one of those myself - but I know he won't get that either, probably much later in life. Lots of tears.

I had lots of the usual housework to do when I got home and now everyone has to get back to routine now that Thanksgiving is over but our minds are also on holiday things and with Mr. T. going to get Son the DS he wanted (don't worry. Son doesn't read this.), the official start to Christmas has begun. We may even get a live tree this year. If Mr. T. will vacuum and pick up the prickly little torturers that bury themselves in carpet, then I will agree to it.

But I can't sing the carols too soon. I have 15,000 words to find and get down on electronic paper. My challenge is to find those words this week amid not one, but two cub scout meetings, a business meeting, a vending event at Son's school and wrapping up the fundraiser we did because hopefully our product will be in our hands this week. It's going to be a photo finish. And it is only now, at 10 p.m., that I can even begin to write something for today because Mr. T. has been tying up my computer ALL DAY - I do mean ALL DAY - downloading TV shows and music for his precious iPhone. Did I say it was ALL DAY? Yeah, it was. Plus I had to stop all my obessesive cleaning that was helping me to forget that I wasn't writing to help him figure out why some of his stuff wasn't downloading. Any iTunes experts out there? Got an error 34; something about a full disk and I can only presume it means my hard drive since he wasn't burning at the time.

Anyway. I had hoped to crank out 5,000 words today so I could start Monday at 40,000 words. Ain't gonna happen. Gotta settle for half that if I can do it.

OK. I gave you 20 minutes. Gotta go.

A Taste of Domesticity

Someone please tell me why, once it gets here, the holiday season has to move so quickly! How on earth can it be Thanksgiving already THIS week? And I certainly don't have enough paychecks left between now and Christmas. It would be great if I could spend a whole check on Christmas. Hmmm.

Don't get me wrong. I look forward to the break. I look forward to not driving in traffic for two days. I look forward to three "Friday nights" in a row. What's a "Friday night" you ask? A Friday night is when I don't have to do a darn thing the next day and I can go to bed as late as I please because I won't be hopping up the next day. Fridays are usually the only time I get a night like that.

Some Friday nights I know I have to get up early the next day for a hair appointment. Good to get my hair done. Not good to have to do something every single day. Saturday nights usually mean church the next day or, now, Son's cub scout pack may have a trip planned. Saturday nights just aren't really that relaxing these days. Sunday afternoons are good if I don't have to do anything. Like right now. I've got a moment so I tried to call a friend who had her first child back in June. She and her husband are living with her aunt right now. Boy do I know what's that like. But she's not home. So I should be trying one of three other long distance friends but first I thought I'd catch you guys up and then - write. Because that's what November has been the past two years. A time of non-stop writing. The closer we get to the end of the month, the more I should have written, but nope! Been busy. Doing what? Well, take a look at this:



Know what that is? That, my friends, is the very first time I ever made macaroni and cheese from scratch. After nearly 37 years of living, it is only now that I felt compelled to do it. I can't tell you why. I hate to cook, for the most part, but I do get these itches and twitches every now and again. Something domestic possesses me from time to time. So I've been cooking for over a week now for the heck of it. It's a long time. Trust me.

Daughter and I went to the hairdresser on Saturday. They were having a Thanksgiving dinner that day so my hairdresser, who is also my friend, tells me, "You'd better go get something to eat! Eat, girl, eat! That's less you'll have to buy later!" After a good four hours in there and after sending Daughter home two hours prior because she was done and I was barely started, I said, why not. And what was there? Mac and cheese, of course! A co-worker recently helped me figure out a poll to put on our job website. It was about the tempting foods of Thanksgiving. I told her I figured the list could go on and on. She sent me back some of the more tempting carbs and I replied that macaroni and cheese is as tempting as they come.

"That's NOT a traditional Thanksgiving food!" she IM'd me.

"It is if you're black!" I IM'd her back. She's not. So she laughed. She had mentioned something about pilgrims to which I responded increduosly, "You are talking to the BLACK girl about pilgrims?!" Don't think the incongruity of the two had crossed her mind before then.

Yep, most black folk (and Southerners of all races) have this filling favorite on most of their holiday tables. So maybe there was just something about this time of the year that made me feel like making it. After all, I don't want to have to wait for a special ocassion to go to someone else's home to have something I love so much.

Time to make it for myself. So I wracked my brain trying to recall what I saw over the years as various family members made it. You would think I would have asked the older women where I get my hair done how they make it because I was guaranteed to get a ton of answers. But I didn't feel like listening to the shock and dismay.
"You've NEVER made it from scratch?!"
"How did THAT happen?!"
"Your mama or grandmama didn't teach you?" (For the record, my mother offered when I was a kid back in Philly but I wasn't interested then either.)
"Why, in my day..." I think you can finish that one for yourselves.
Many women of all ages are still surprised that others of us ain't into the kitchen scene. I'm not the career-type, necessarily, thinking cooking is for SAHMs. It's just not me. Unless I'm in the mood.

So I keep thinking about what makes sense and I even checked out the back of the macaroni boxes to see if they had a recipe - of course they did - and to see if it rang any bells. Checking out 3 different brands yielded me pretty much the same recipe with dry mustard and flour as two of the ingredients. But that felt wrong. So I called my mother who said exactly what I was expecting to hear - milk and an egg, among the usual macaroni and various cheeses.

I get what I need and I go home to see what happens. An hour after I put it into the oven, that dish came out smelling up the house and even though I didn't tell anyone I was making it, they came asking because it's one of those unmistakeable odors. Kind of like Doritos, you know it when you smell it.

It was OK. It smelled fantastic, that's for certain. It LOOKED perfect. But it was a little bland for my taste so I'll figure out what's missing - it may be as simple as not enough salt since it tasted more flavorful after I added salt - and I'll try it again eventually.

My need to heat things up in the kitchen hasn't quite dissipated yet. Maybe I'll venture next into forbidden territory - German Chocolate Cake!

But first, I have to write. I'm still woefully behind and there are people who actually think I'll make the 50,000 words anyway! Oh the pressure! That's a good thing, K8. ;-)

Beachin'

Another photo post, pre-holiday. We are at the beach waiting for the fireworks and since it is still light, all I can do is eat pizza while Mr. T is with the kids at a special playground set up for tonight. Elmo showed up and led the kids away who were playing at the beach playground, Pied Piper style. I took a picture but he was too far so I guess this will have to do. So here I am feeling the cool breeze and I think I finally have a moment to call a friend. We live in the same state and still have to make appointments to talk.



Here are my two tykes happily bouncing around. I tried to take a good firework photo but it didn't work. It was a great show though! It was like 3D. You should have been there!

Happy 4th!

Icon Insanity

'Tis the season for Santa...and the Easter Bunny...and the Tooth Fairy....and other nonsense like that.

This month has been a little challenging. Not so much because we bought a house and had the whole flood insurance fiasco to deal with. Not so much because my MIL keeps telling people, "They have a TON of space!" and we only have an 1,100 square foot house. It's empty, for goodness sake. Of course it looks like we have a ton of space! (I'm a little concerned people - a.k.a. his family - are going to try to buy things for us or give us stuff before we've had a chance to decide what our collective style is.)

No, the challenge, once again has been Santa. And this post was actually prompted by The Tooth Fairy but one myth at a time.

SPOILER: If you happen to be a believer in the "magic of Santa" and all these other "creatures," please leave now before I dash your beliefs on the ground and run over it with my car.

You see, earlier this month I took Daughter to get her hair done. I waited for her and watched as she talked with everyone around her. One woman - who I do not see regularly at the salon - said something to her that prompted Daughter to run to me. "Mommy, mommy! Can I go see Santa?!"

I looked at her, my eyes bugging out, then I looked up at the grinning culprit and asked her, "What IS your problem?!" Everyone laughed but you best believe I was not thrilled.

You see if you have not guessed by now, let me make myself perfectly clear: I DO NOT TEACH SANTA TO MY CHILDREN.

To make matters worse, the woman sitting next to me was waiting with her daughters. They were like 9 and 12 years old. She leans on her knee as she watches Daughter and says, "What's wrong?"

"I don't lie to my children."

"Ohhhh! Stop. Let's stop there." She looks back at her daughter and loudly whispers to me, "We still believe."

I just smile at her. It's not my problem, I want to say. Blame that grinning woman over there who thought it cute to tell my Daughter to come ask me to take her to see Santa. I only tell Daughter, "Daughter, daughter. What? What are you talking about? Don't you need to go back and get your hair done? We'll talk later."

It's quite simple actually. The world is full of marvelous things. Wondrous things. Things we don't understand. They are still discovering creatures under the sea. Do we need to make stuff up to give kids magic? I say no. As the woman sitting next to me continues to talk, I tell her something to this effect as I remind her that our Savior is supposed to be the focus. Helping others and being with family - that's part of the joy of this time. That is what I teach my babies. After all, have you seen the face of a kid who found out the truth after sincerely believing? Pretty heartwrenching. I saw it a couple of years ago when Husband's family thought it cute to do that Santa crap though I never gave them any indication that that was how I rolled. (Aside: Families. Take your cue from the parents. Please. Don't try to stuff your beliefs and fantasies down a kid's throat that YOU did not give birth to or adopt or what have you. You are just making work for the parents who have to live with this. It's NOT funny.)

So the in-laws tried to threaten Son with, "You'd better be good or Santa won't bring you anything." Ugh! I did not tell them to say such things. I had never planned to discuss the Santa thing until I felt I had to and now I had to. "Son, Christmas is about Jesus' birthday. It's about us celebrating the fact that God gave us a way out of our sins. It's about family and helping others. The presents you get? Mommy and daddy and other family members buy them because we love you and God gave us the ability to take care of you in this way. This is Christmas. Santa is just the face some people choose to put on it but he is not real. The people in the malls are in costume." He was sad. He wanted to believe. And the question was do I dash his faith now or later?

Mind you, I was not raised not to believe in Santa nor did anyone try to make it like he was real. I don't know how to explain it. My parents managed to make the time magical anyway because every Christmas I'd see those presents and wonder where the heck they came from. Could there be a Santa? But we don't have a chimney. Did my parents leave the door unlocked? Isn't that dangerous? Eventually I concluded it couldn't be and eventually I figured out how they were sneaking the presents in. That part of the mystery died and yes, that was too bad but I had years of fun trying to figure out how they did it because it HAD to be them. That much I knew. And my kids? Well, we wrap some stuff, put them under the tree and then hold on to some stuff to pull out after they go to sleep. They have been amazed at the overnight growth of the presents every year. I can imagine the thrill my parents got just sneaking around like that and now I get to do it for my own. I love it. This is Christmas to me. I love the lights. I love the cookies. I love how everyone is home a lot more. I love the kids bugging me to buy stuff as I ignore them and then seeing them so happy to get whatever they get. I don't need Santa to pull this off for me.

Son got past it and now Daughter will to. She had a moment where I was unsure. The presents weren't under the tree yet.

"Is Santa going to bring us presents," she asked.

"Daughter...." I tried to warn her.

"Yes, Santa is going to bring us presents."

My kid is 3 and knows exactly what she is doing and saying at all times. She watched me as she said this. "Daughter, come one. Give me a break. You know there is no Santa."

"Yes, Santa," she decided as she went her merry way.

"No Santa."

"Santa, Santa, Santa."

I had to laugh at her. A few days later as we picked out the paint colors for her room at the paint store, the woman asked her if Santa was going to bring her anything.

"Santa's not real!" she yelled at her. The woman gasped. That's my girl.

Now, what about the Tooth Fairy, you ask? Well, Son knew that was a myth before the Santa thing happened. But this week he lost 2 teeth. The first one came out a couple of days ago. Son woke me as I felt him crawling into bed with us.

"Son, what's going on," I asked groggily.

"Come here. I have to show you something." He moved to turn on the light.

"Don't you dare!" I hissed at him. I looked at the clock. "It's 3 in the morning! What do you want me to see?"

"Just come on," he waved at me. I refused to get up. "I have to get up soon. Just tell me."

"My tooth came out and I put it under my pillow but you didn't come." My word. Who knew that by killing the fake stuff, I was somehow increasing my own magical abilities in the mind of my child. "Honey, how can I come if I don't know?" I suppose it's my job to just somehow always know. Well, that's what mommy's do, right? Right.

America the Dutiful?

See this flag? It's kind of blurry, I know. But can you read that blue text on the part between the flag and the stick?

I took this picture on Memorial Day when my family and I went to a baseball game for the heck of it. Free tickets. Why not? The kids were given mini flags upon entrance. They waved them happily; not out of patriotism, of course. They just love new toys. We were escorted to our seats and we watched the action around us as we waited for the game to start. Then Husband noticed something. He laughed. "The American flag is Made in China." I looked closer at Son's little national symbol and indeed there it was, bold and proud: NOT made in the U.S.A.

So what is that about, I wondered. It made me think of my business. My business partner and I make puzzles. Cost is a huge concern of ours. The cheaper we can make something, the better for all. Or is it? We're concerned about quality and not being able to control it over the vast oceans so we don't want to go there, as so many of our business counterparts have. What exactly ever happened to that Made in the U.S.A. campaign, anyway? I, for one, am tired of having to call India and decipher the accent when my computer or some other feat of technology breaks down.

And patriotism? Well, I tell you. As African-Americans, loyalty to this nation is a double-edged sword. After all, we're the only people who were brought here against our collective will. So for us it was, is and will probably always be a touchy subject. Just know that, dear reader, and save yourself the argument. Slight tangent. Back to the issue at hand.

Overall, we are Americans, are we not? Are we really so commerce-driven that we can't even make a simple plastic flag within our own borders for fear of not getting back triple what we paid for it? Sigh. I just wanted to show you this picture and let you conjure up your own thoughts.