Happy New Year--And Pass Me The Nasal Spray

2011 is upon us--time to start the New Year with a bang.

Unfortunately, mine is starting with a whimper as I have contracted an upper respitory infection. It will also be beginning with a trip to the mall as our puppy ate a hole in the quilt on my bed while my son was "watching" her.

Okay, so we're not off to a stellar opening.

I always find it hard to muster a lot of cheer for the start of a new year because I am a holiday junkie. A new year means the that the wonderful holiday stretch from Thanksgiving through January 1st is over. We now have the long winter laid out ahead before any major holidays appear. I don't count Valentine's Day as a big holiday because the only way I get a box of chocolates is if I buy them myself.

When the kids were young and would become sad when the Christmas tree had to come down, I would remind them that we now have a whole year ahead of us to do all of the fun things we did last year over again. I try to remind myself of that "blank slate" before me that is full of possiblities and promises, not only to do things over but also to do them better.

I am not big on resolutions because when I "resolve" to do something, I always feel terrible when those expectations are not met. Instead, I like to set goals that require a number of steps to reach them. That way, at least accomplishing some of these steps means I'm on my way to achieving that goal.

Over the last two years, my main goal has been to compete in walking races, working my way up to the Crim 10-mile race and hopefully placing in some of them. I'm happy to report that I had three third place finishes last year and placed in the top 15 in my age group in my first 10-mile race. Mission accomplished.

Among my goals for 2011, I have decided to:

-Increase my speed in races to get below a 12-minute mile.
-Take at least one writing class
-Keep better contact with friends, especially those living out-of-state
-Eat more chocolate

As you can tell, I like to throw one in there that is really easy to reach.

No matter what your goals are for 2011, I hope you meet them. May the new year be filled with promise and potential, and may all your expectations come true.

And may you also get to eat lots of chocolate.

Holiday P.R.

One thing that amazes me at this time of year is how everyone suddenly becomes a public relations expert.

Many of us are guilty of sending out those standard holiday letters. I know I send them to all those on our Christmas card list who we don't speak to on a regular basis.

What I find most interesting is how everyone's six-year-old seems to be in line for a Nobel Prize and how redecorating the dining room has made us a candidtate for a spread in Better Homes and Gardens. Because whatever news we have this year, good or bad, we spin it.

That speeding ticket you got in October becomes a commedation from the police department. The bad progress report your sixth grader brought home is now a special recognition for academic achievement from the school's principal.

Wouldn't you love--just for once--to get a letter that sounded like this:

Happy Holidays to all of our family and friends!

We hope this year finds you well. It has been an exciting time in our household.

Cliff continues to enjoy golf. He recently purchased new clubs since he threw his old ones in a water hazard out of frustration. Cliff's electrical business continues to thrive. We were not bothered at all by that pesky IRS audit last year. He expects the fraud and racketeering charges to be dropped at any time. If they aren't, what's 10 to 20 years, anyway?

Kris is quite excited about her expanding cosmetic business. She is planning a demonstration at a women's prison early next year. Her hobbies include gardening, scrapbooking and following her rather disorganized family around the house with a dustpan and a can of Lysol. She is still taking remedial cooking classes and was not discouraged at all by that three-alarm fire in the kitchen at Thanksgiving.

Shannon is still thriving in high school. The little cheating incident on the PSATs has not discouraged her academic goals at all. She is hoping to be accepted into one of the finest convent or reform schools in the country.

Sean's progress in school continues to be, well, interesting. The teacher thinks he may very well pass seventh grade without summer school this time. Our family in Pennsylvania is making plans to visit him for his military school induction or his first parole hearing, whichever comes first.

Our little puppy Chloe is growing fast. We are searching for a doggy psychiatrist to assist us since she has been kicked out of three obedience schools. She is almost totally housebroken now, and we only had to replace the carpets in six rooms, along with two couches and a matress.

For those of you in the southern part of the country, we may very well show up on your doorstep next year. We will be travelling to Podunk, TN to see the world's largest ball of yarn!


Now there's an interesting year!

Here's wishing you all a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year that is "spin-worthy!"

I Believe In Santa Claus

In our house, it's been a long time since we have had a little one waiting anxiously for Santa Claus to arrive. And that makes me little sad.

The fact is that children mature and realize that Santa Claus doesn't land on the roof and descend down your chimney with a pack of toys. But to a parent, the loss of that belief is a sign that your children are growing up and that some of the magic has gone from this time of year.

I, however, refuse to believe claims that Santa is a myth, because I still believe that he exists.

Santa Claus was actually a real person who lived about 1,700 years ago. The real St. Nicholas was a 4th century bishop in Turkey who used his substantial inheritance to help the poor. Legend has it he would toss coins through open windows, and children began hanging up stockings hoping to capture them.

St. Nicholas has evolved through the centuries into the jolly, fat, bearded man in red we know today. He is blessed with the uncanny ability to force children into good behavior (I used to warn mine his elves looked through the windows to give Santa status reports) and reminds adults of the days when they, too, waited to hear sleigh bells on Christmas Eve.

And I miss Santa. I miss the annual trek to the mall for a visit. I miss writing letters to him, mailing them to the North Pole and waiting for a response. I miss sprinkling reindeer food in the yard, setting out a plate of cookies by the fireplace and tracking his progress across the world on the Norad Tracks Santa website.

Of course, I could still do all these things, but my family would probably think I've dipped into the eggnog too often. Besides, a 40-something woman sitting on Santa's lap just may give the jolly old elf the wrong impression.

Although Santa may no longer exist as a person, I believe he endures in a non-physical sense. He is the embodiment of all that is good and wonderful this time of year. He causes children to behave a little better, strangers to treat others with more kindness, and puts a little bit of magic and mystery back into our lives during the holiday season.

As we stress ourselves out trying to recreate the Martha Stewart holiday special in our own homes, perhaps we should all remember what Christmas comes down to: celebrating a miracle in a stable and the pure joy of giving.

As Francis Church famously responded to eight-year-old Virginia O'Hanlon's question "Is there a Santa Claus?" in the New York Sun back in 1897, "No Santa Claus! Thank God he lives, and he lives forever. A thousand years from now, Viginia, nay, ten times ten thousand years from now, he will continue to make glad the heart of childhood."

He also fills the hearts of adults with joy, if only we let him. Here's hoping we each find a little bit of Santa in ourselves this time of year.

Talkin' Turkey

Thanksgiving is upon us. It's that time of year when families once again gather to gobble (pun intended) loads of food, watch hours of parades and football and wind up feeling as overstuffed as the turkey we just cooked.

I wouldn't have it any other way.

Thanksgiving has always been my favorite holiday. It has all the togetherness of Christmas without the mad dash to blow money we don't have on gifts and over-decorate just to show up the neighbors. It is simply a time to gather and reflect on all for which we are grateful.

Although retailers would have us believe the Christmas season begins the day after Halloween, I prefer to give Thanksgiving its due. Although many around us are already lighting the plastic Santas, our house is still adorned by pumpkins and cornstalks.

That's not to say I have not begun planning for Christmas. I just prefer not to have a Christmas tree next to my Thanksgiving table.

I applaud Nordstrom's Depatment Store for its decision not to put up Christmas decorations until after Thanksgiving. Perhaps if more retailers did this, we would feel a little less pressured to jump into the holiday season before the jack o'lanterns have had time to rot on the porch.

So go ahead and put your grazing ornamental reindeer in your front yard and illuminate your house with enough lights to guide a 747 to a safe landing on your roof before the cranberry sauce has enough time to congeal on the tablecloth.

I'll be enjoying my turkey sandwiches without the holly and ivy as side dishes for a little while longer.

Can We Talk?

The time of year is upon us that many parents dread. It's time for parent/teacher conferences.

I would have to say that more parents fear these dreaded teacher meetings than the sugar-filled, present-driven hyperactivity of the Christmas season. At least Christmas is over in one day. The repercussions of these conferences will haunt you for weeks, an entire semester or even a whole school year.

For some lucky people, these are pleasant exchanges. With Shannon, we meet with her teachers and hear what a polite, cooperative young woman and great student she is. Then we head over to the middle school for Sean's conferences.

And we brace ourselves.

It's not that Sean is not an intelligent child. He has unfortunately been cursed with some sort of genetic disease that prevents him from keeping track of things. He received an ipod for his birthday a few weeks ago and has already managed to lose the headphones.

Unfortunately, this defective gene also affects his ability to hand in homework. We know that he does the homework, but we have no idea where it goes once it enters the black void of his backpack.

It is frustrating to go online to check his grades and see that he has A's and B's for all the work he has done, but has a C in the class because of all the Fs he receives for missing work.

I have a feeling many of the papers simply end up on the bottom of his locker. I had to retrieve a book from there a few weeks ago when he missed several days of school with an ear infection. That thing needs to be declared a bio-hazard.

Apparently, everything that has ever disappeared in the Bermuda Triangle has materialized in Sean's locker. The bottom was half full with gym shorts, swearshirts, both of his coats, binders and notebooks with at least 30 pieces of paper randomly stuffed around everything else.

Even worse, Sean had left an insulated lunch sack in the locker for about four weeks with, unfortunately, the lunch still in it. Brown goo had oozed through the lunch sack, which now covers the bottom of his locker with some papers actually stuck in it. I practically had to don a protective suit to get anything out of there.

Also, I have repeatedly warned him not to put papers in the pockets of his pants. Crumpled school papers, however, sometimes appear in the washer and dryer. Since he has a binder for each class, I cannot figure out why he thinks the pocket of his jeans is the best place to store papers.

Despite regular efforts to go through his backpack and a new organizational system we are trying with his class binders, success has eluded us. The problem is he is simply not motivated to keep track of his schoolwork.

Since Sean is motivated by money, we have now instituted a new system where he loses $1 from his monthly allowance for every missing assignment that pops up on Powerschool. We figure he will owe us money by the end of the semester.

We also have a longstanding policy where he loses television, computer or videogame privleges for any grade below a C. That list will now include his ipod. Our hope is that he will become organized out of complete boredom.

So, next week, we will once again arm ourselves with a brave face, gather our courage and enter the realm of middle school to once again prepare for battle with the dragon that is a teenage boy's lack of enthusiasm and motivation.

Seems to me that slaying a real dragon would be a whole lot easier.

Politically Incorrect

I was appalled to watch the news this morning and listen to a candidate in next week's elections tell the President of the United States to "shove it." What is even more shocking is that this person is a member of his own party.

This only goes to prove that, when it comes to politics, any shred of courtesy, decency, morality and respect has gone the way of the dodo bird.

In a world of 30-second sound bites and a "do whatever feels right" mentality, civility may well be on the endagered speicies list. Nowhere is that more apparent in the world of politics. Political ads today do not tout the merits of a particular candidate, but instead are designed only to slander the oppostion.

I heard a commerical recently that claimed "since Fred Smith has been in office, unemployment in his area has gone up 80 percent." Can someone please show me somewhere in this country where unemployment has not gone up 80 percent?

But candidates today assume that people who are polarized toward their particular party are not going to stop to think about such a statement. Unfortunately, they are correct. The ad could probably blame this guy for everything from the Chernobyl nuclear disaster to Hurricane Katrina, and ignorant people would be calling the candidate's office (because they of course publish a phone number) to accuse him of being everyting from a communist to an evil, tree-worshing wiccan who can control weather systems.

Even worse is that we are grooming the next generation behave exactly like us. My daughter was recently volunteering at a water station for a road race with some of our other youth group members. Two girls tried to convince her to state that she hates President Obama because "he needs to die." The worse part is that these fine young representatives of our church were saying this within earshot of other volunteers from a protestant church who were mainly African-American.

Fortunately I have groomed my children to handle political incorrectness like this by simply stating that they are a Christian and do not hate anyone since that goes against everything for which our Lord lived and died. You would be surprised at how quickly a statment like that shuts the mouths of supposedly "good Christians."

It's obvious these children are learning from their parents that inflammatory speech is perfectly acceptable when it comes to politics. Not only are they grooming ignorance, but they are teaching an entire generation to follow a narrow-minded path wihout instilling in these children any compassion, common sense or the ability to think for themselves. Certainly we want our children to follow our moral examples, but should these examples include racial and religious insults and death wishes?

As for me, I am proud to be a dinosaur who believes that the President of the United
States deserves the respect to which his office entitles him regardless of if I agree with his politics. Taunts and name-calling should be left on the playground with the rest of the pre-schoolers. And freedom of speech does not mean we have a right to behave like a bunch of uncivilized baboons whose opinions come only from advertisements, political pundits and "unbiased" news sources.

God blessed each of us with a brain and the ability to think for ourselves. Let's not insult him by refusing to use it when it comes to politics.

It's Duck Season!!! It's Wabbit Season!!!

The nights have turned crisp and cool. The leaves are turning. And, my husband is growing a beard.

All clear signs that hunting season is upon us.

I must admit I don't understand that male ritual of sitting in one spot in the damp woods for hours just to shoot at something that no one else in the family will eat. But that does not stop Cliff from donning facial hair and camoflage to go out in search of Bambi each year.

For the past two years, my son has joined him in this rite of male passage. He has not been old enough to hunt with a rifle, but simply goes along to join his dad, grandfather, uncles and male cousins in the annual testosterone-fest at our cabin in Gaylord, MI.

Not that I really need to worry about my husband getting a deer. The last time I remember him actually shooting one was about 20 years ago. One year while he was hunting, I actually hit a deer with my car. A police officer had to shoot it and then asked me if I wanted to take it home. Cliff never even saw a deer that week. I bagged one with a Ford Tempo.

When I think about it, hardly anyone ever gets a deer during hunting season. This makes me wonder what actually goes on at that cabin.

Years ago I heard a song on the radio called "The Second Week of Deer Camp" where a bunch of guys sang about how they got together each year in the woods to smoke, drink and play cards. At the end of the song, someone finally got a deer. They hit one with their truck while on a beer run.

I seriously doubt the Moore boys spend most of their week three sheets to the wind. I think hunting season is more about the timeless tradition of males getting together to bond, share experiences and pass on their rituals to the next generation of hunters. And, occasionally, they go out into the woods.

Besides, I can hardly complain. Hunting season has led to a female ritual commonly known as "Outlet Shopping Season." This is one tradition in which I will be happy to partake.