It's not even December yet, and I already have enough catalogues to build a Habitat for Humanity house. Which would be ironic, because while the world really does need more shelter, I wonder how much these homes need a $150.00 bullfrog bookend? ... "We don't have enough money for food, but look at this fabulous $300.00 silver nut tray shaped like a horse's head... No, wait... that's Maria Shriver..." (Sidenote: I actually find Maria Shriver quite stunning. And classy. But she does have a little horsey quality to her... the hair perhaps? Or maybe it's because she's married to a man who rumors say is hung like one? The verdict is still out.)
Getting back to these catalogues, here is Mama P's official stance on Xmas: I love it. I mean, LOVE IT. The lights, the sounds, the smells, the glorious anticipation of family chats by the fireside, resplete with the dog licking off the remaining pumpkin pie and upchucking on the linoleum. I've been known to listen to Dean Martin's "Rudy the Red Nosed Reindeer" in the middle of July if I'm having a rough morning. I have my local radio station, 103.5, preset for 24 hour/day holiday classics. Bring on the Back Street Boys crooning "Silent Night". Send in the Spice Girls rendition of "Sleigh Ride". I hardly even listen to country music during this season, because while one of my other guilty pastimes is all honky tonk all the time, there is nothing worse than hearing an L.A born cowboy screeching "Santa Baby".
What I HATE is the pressure to buy. And honestly, I joke about being cheap, but in truth, I'm not. I like nice things as much as the next girl. Just look at my obsession with making my living room perfect. I don't want a house full of crap. I believe in selecting just the right product that reflects your inner soul. This philosophy extends to buying gifts for others. Example: I might salivate over an overpriced tee shirt that reads "I'm tired of being my wife's arm candy", but I'd never purchase that for James (not when there are so many Star Trek figurines on Ebay). Gifts are for marking special occasions, not getting what you like. Which also leads me to...
The most important things in life aren't gifts. It's time spent with those we love. It's remembering how lucky we are to have what we have. If James does nothing but give me time to myself to breathe (with a card that mentions he's crazy for me) I'm a pretty happy camper. Sure, I want the diamond earrings. But I also want my kids to go to college. I want happy memories of us baking cookies and laughing around the fire. And yeah, sometimes crap happens, and life isn't so rosy. Fantastic. But while my babes are young and innocent, I want to build traditions, not debt. Until they are old enough to get mad at me for picking them up at preschool in a shirt that reads "Embarrassing my Kids... Just One More Service I Offer", they are getting a homemade ornament with their apple cheeked grins on it for Xmas blackmails to come.
Second Side note of the night: To prove that I'm not against gifts, I am telling the world "Thank you, Kim, for that amazing gift card! So unnecessary, but so appreciated. Now stop buying me coffee and start your own blog because your writing is great."
Third Side note of the evening: I am going to stop complaining about a maid. First off, James is getting me one for Xmas. (See, time, not gifts, is the best). Second, I'm now paranoid that people will think I'm a cry baby and send me gift cards when really, sometimes I'm just having a bad day and want to crawl into the womb and not come out until my carpets smell like bad carwash Pine Tree Vanilla - hence I complain in my blog. I do know that I am the most lucky woman alive to live this life. I thank God each day for James - he's the string on my balloon. And of course, Nick and Sophie are the helium. I'm also the most neurotic person in the world, hence I'm the balloon flying all over the valley wondering "Am I flying to high? I love this bold shade I've picked out for myself, but will it force my kids into therapy early in life?"
Well, I'm off to relax with James. He took the day off and cooked dinner for me like the old days. As much as I love my Wednesday leftovers (one day it was turkey and egg sandwiches with corn), I'm looking forward to the stew.
And our talk.
And crashing on him before he gets two minutes in.
Happy Thanksgiving everyone.
1 comment:
LOVE the "string on my balloon" analogy!! Love. It.
I'm with you on the materialism. Christmas is strictly a cash affair in our home, and often it's more heartfelt than expensive, by necessity.
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