The Time Is Right

NOW the house is ready for Christmas.

Like the tension between a man and a woman who want one another, to give in too soon can destroy the desire, and to prolong the inevitable can cause unnecessary frustration.

Today, we were just ready.

Social Moth

Friends who know me well at this stage of my life are sure I'm guilty of hyperbole when I say that, in high school, I could literally go an entire day without letting one word escape my mouth. I mean, not one word. But I assure them that this is fact, not exaggeration. I was really that shy, at least during my first two years of high school. Painfully shy.

Thankfully, I've since come out of my shell (or, shall I say, cocoon?). Now, I am quite comfortable in a crowd, with small talk, deep conversation, humor, even a little harmless flirting among friends. In fact, I've come to greatly enjoy socializing with friends, strangers, whomever! Still an introvert at heart -- I get my "charge" from quiet time at home, not from a big crowd of people -- I look forward to evenings out, mingling and laughing with others.

But I wouldn't quite describe myself as a social butterfly. Maybe a social moth is more apropos. I mean, I can fly through the room and do all the things a butterfly can do, but perhaps with less beauty and finesse.

Last night, we hosted our second annual company holiday party.

(OK, digression here... It's hard for me to write, think, or say "holiday party." I'm Catholic, and to me, it's a "Christmas party." But we need to be politically correct. And you've heard the soapbox arguments before on the whole "holiday" vs "Christmas" thing. So just insert that little rant here. Back to the story...)

We hosted the holiday party. Last year, we had the party at an upscale restaurant. We all dressed up, ate expensive steak meals, had great conversation around one big table. Of course, there were only about six employees and their spouses who attended, conducive to that type of intimate event.

This year, we have fifteen full-time employees, all of whom attended. Most with spouses. So the party was bigger. We chose to hold the party in a more casual restaurant, in a private room with multiple tables, a buffet, ping-pong and pool tables, and less structure -- more conducive to games and free mingling. Oh, and an open bar.

It was a great evening! My husband is more the butterfly than I am, so he flitted from group to group easily. I made it to just about everyone, but I do prefer longer conversations over the small-talk quick hits, so it took me longer to make my way through the crowd. Sometimes I like to people-watch, so I took a few short "social breaks" throughout the night to just watch others interacting.

Watching others socialize is really fascinating to me. Especially when there's an open bar. After a few drinks, some of the more introverted, socially cautious people open up a bit or a lot, allowing a glimpse into their true personalities. Couples tell their stories about each other with a wink and a nudge -- that harmless, teasing, back-and-forth that makes for great entertainment. After a few drinks, the extroverted among us become even more so -- wowwing others with their social flexibility, living large, creating "events" throughout the night. After a few drinks, people who were mere coworkers become BFFs, sharing secrets, planning future social events to enjoy together. After a few drinks, a company party becomes, simply and happily, a party of friends.

Finally, I looked at the time. By 12:30, the party that was to end at 11:00 was still going strong, at least among the last dozen to linger. Alas, we missed curfew -- we called the babysitter to say we're so sorry, but we're not going to be home by 12:00 as we'd thought. How about if we shoot for 1:00?

(Very) Personal Art

My daughter has recently taken to creating paper cutout art while {ahem} using the bathroom. We've been privy -- no pun intended -- well, maybe it was -- to many such artistic creations from her of late.




















I guess the lesson to be learned is that time should never be wasted. Even a trip to the bathroom can be time well spent!

Wishes

The Mega Millions jackpot is up to $170 million.

I'm not usually a lottery player, or a gambler of any type, but when the lottery gets up that high, I have to go for it!

To be sure, I don't need anything material in my life. I certainly have everything I need, and much more.

I don't even really want anything material all that badly.

That's not to say I wouldn't love to see what I could do with $170 million. And besides, it's fun to make wishes, to imagine!

I would:

Pay the college tuition for every kid in our extended family, not just our own children. Actually, I'd pay for any adults in the family who wanted to go back to school, too.

Help out several families I know with special needs children. Expenses to educate children with non-mainstream needs can be exorbitant.

Donate more than we currently do to many worthwhile local organizations.

Buy my mother-in-law the house she really wants.

Of course, even though I don't need anything material, I would make a few changes. I mean, $170 million! Who wouldn't splurge a little?

So, if I had $170 million, I'd sell the suburban house we live in and buy two places: one in the city, and one in the country. (OK, in the interest of honesty, with that much money, I'd probably buy a couple of vacation homes, too: one on the ski slopes somewhere, one on the beach somewhere...) But they wouldn't have to be big places! Big is overrated. But diverse, now, that's exciting.

My other self-indulgent splurge would be to travel a bit more. To places a bit farther away and a bit more exotic.

And the rest? Well, the main thing $170 million would buy is peace of mind. Without concern for the housing market, the stock market, the job market, the cost of college tuition, the value of retirement savings, and more, we could simply pursue our interests, whether they are financially profitable or not.

But these are just wishes. Just flights of fancy. Something to amuse my mind. Isn't it fun to play sometimes?

Ripple Effect

One nice thing about having laryngitis is the ripple effect it causes: My kids unconsciously match the volume of their voices to mine. So we have a generally quieter household all around!

The intense knives-in-the-throat feeling I felt yesterday, as {what I assume is} a virus in my throat was violently working its cruel wonders on me, has greatly subsided to a tolerable sore throat today. My throbbing sinuses are merely achy now. As my friends witnessed the rapid escalation of symptoms last night, I received numerous diagnoses by good-intentioned "Dr. Mom" friends. Their consensus was that I have strep throat and should get to Urgent Care ASAP today for an antibiotic.

But I don't think I will. I survived the night. The symptoms are better, and I'm not prone to strep. The doctors can't help me with a virus.

So I'll loaf around the house today, whispering to my kids. I'll use the loud/raspy whisper, when necessary, to break up any fights.

But mainly I'll enjoy the quiet day. Because when Mom speaks softly, the kids do, too.

Parting Words

"And tell your husband to hand over those keys!" he said as I left the examining room.

I looked back with a smile, "Oh, I will!"

Today, 9-1/2 weeks after being diagnosed with a hip fracture and being confined to crutches, Dr W cleared me for all kinds of activities. Including driving a stick-shift! I've had my eyes on my husband's new car for the past month, so when he gets back in town with it, I plan to take it for a spin!

So, I'm cleared to drive any kind of car.

I'm also cleared to carry the laundry around.

And I'm cleared to go to the gym! Of course, I'll be doing low-impact activities for a while yet, but that's fine with me -- at least I can do something! And as we were going over which specific gym activities are and are not allowed, Dr W warned against moving toward only the high-impact, high-repetition pursuits (which is how I got into this mess in the first place).

His words of wisdom: "Use all the sections of the gym."

(Of course, I drove straight there to have my membership reinstated posthaste.)

This afternoon, my daughters and I had a casting-off-of-the-crutches celebration. The girls were so enthusiastic while helping me discard them. I knew the real source of their enthusiasm was their hope of confiscating my old sticks. "Mom, now that you're done with them, do we get the crutches?"

I laughed. Sure -- anyone but me!

Photographic Adventure

The character Earl Hickey of My Name Is Earl can't seem to keep his eyes open in a photo.











I can relate.

Yesterday, I set out to take the annual photo of my children for our Christmas card. At the ages of 10 (son) and 9 (twin daughters), they're experienced enough to know the photo drill. I figured this would be a breeze.

More like a storm.

I'd picked out the coordinating outfits several weeks ago, and obtained buy-in from each child at that point. The girls were easy: they liked their dresses and the boots. My son was a little skeptical of the scarf, but seemed willing to try something new. The new piano room color scheme happened to match the outfits, so once the furniture arrived, that became our set and we were ready to go.

Instead, the plan began to fall apart.

My son put the outfit on and immediately commenced unbottoning the collar and then frantically tucking it into the shirt. "What are you doing to the collar?" I asked. "I hate the feel of it against my skin!" he said.

No matter. He'd have a scarf on. Which, incidentally, put him near tears."I look stupid in this!"

I thought he looked handsome and stylish.

We got him settled down, although he still maintained a pout.

Once my son was somewhat under control, I went back to curling the girls' hair. One of the twins gave a disgusted sigh and approached tears herself: "There are no curls in my hair!" As I looked at her hair that had curls all over, I didn't quite understand her frustration. She looked truly beautiful. The rest of the clan looked at her with mouths agape. "What do you mean, you don't have any curls? We're looking right at them!"

Naturally, the solution was bribery: all children who endured the photo shoot happily and with smiles would get ice cream afterward. Amazingly, three smiles immediately appeared on all three faces!

Good thing I was shooting with digital. I took about 50 shots and deleted about 48 of them. (To be honest, they weren't all rejected due to the subjects -- several were rejected due to poor photography on my part!)

Witness the gallery of rejects (rejected photos, that is, not children!):




Goofy eyes









Closed eyes










Distracted eyes











Cutesy overkill









Choke-hold on the dog





I started to wonder if our photographic adventure would ever end. But it did, with success. And the winner?




















Still, maybe I'll leave the photography to the pros next Christmas!