Christmas Lights

Oh, and we went to see some Christmas lights...

Hard to believe that people in this sunny clime go THAT crazy over Christmas...

And Yeah, It's Pink...

So things have been pretty uninteresting around here lately, but I was finally able to get away and get my hair done this weekend (It was BAD, like live in a hat BAD). I went to a new hairdresser who has done a friends hair for a long time and loves color and having fun with it. Worked out PERFECTLY since she's almost 75% less than my last hairdresser who apparently had a major auditory processing disorder. It didn't matter what I asked that chick, I'd leave with the same level of conservative mommy-highlights every time. And sometimes you just want something a little different. Like, say, pink highlights...

Yeah, That's Pink Alright.

Ok, I do have to go home for Christmas, so you know I couldn't do my WHOLE head that color. Instead we just did a little piece. There's that whole new trend where you wear a clip-in piece of hair that's a totally crazy color. Which makes me think that today's "Punk" kids are total sissies for not actually dying their hair. Plus I'm wayyy too lazy to clip something like that in (yes, I did even buy one in blue, used it once, wayyy too lazy). The result...I'm working on my self-portraiture - this is actually much darker than it should be (the pink and my hair are both lighter than they appear here). But I kindof like it. And I told her maybe next time we'd go for Blue. Fin wants to come with me...

A Sunrise

I know, I've been gone a few days. But Christmas planning has me tied up, I promise, I'll have something more interesting to say soon!

Twinkle, Twinkle, My Little Star

Last week Fin came home with the words to the song that his class will be performing in the Christmas Pageant in two weeks. It's basically a Christmas version of "Twinkle, Twinkle", which is smart because EVERY kid knows how that one goes. Unfortunately for me, Fin was more than a little irked that they had changed the words on him.

After putting the boys down for a nap, I stood in the kitchen staring at the lyrics weighing my options. I could pretend I'd never seen them and let the teacher teach the song. Or, I could help my kid learn it and be that parent who makes her kid sing it three times a day. Ultimately, I love the sound of my child singing way too much to pass up an opportunity to hear it more often.

It's been a week and Fin's mastered it. Last night I decided he should hold a concert for us. So I popped him up on his stage (our bed) and we found seats in the audience (on the floor) and Fin began. He got through the first verse and stopped.

"Hey, there are NO BABIES ALLOWED at MY SHOW!"

This was very clearly directed at Dash who was on my lap.

"But Fin, Dash would be sad if he missed your show."

Child looks at parents thoughtfully and continues on his song. Then again stops.

"Ok, get ready, this is the END!"

Parents try to control laughter through the last verse.

Then later, while in the tub, Fin looks at me, squints, and says:

"Ok, babies CAN come to my show, but only if they have clean diapers. I don't want any stinky wees or poopies at my show" (turns to Dash) "You hear me Dash, you can't have any poopies at my show so make sure mommy puts clean pants on you."

We can't wait.

Preschool Christmas

After much thought and polling, I decided to do Starbucks gift cards for Fin's Preschool teachers. To make them just a tad more personalized, I bought the photo tumblers and used Digital Scrapbooking supplies to do the fillers - a teacher friend told me that everyone enjoys a picture of their students so here's hoping that's true! In case anyone is interested, here are my favorite finds for digital scrapbooking supplies:

Digi-Free: http://digifree.blogspot.com/

Sweet Blossom Designs: http://sweetblossomdesigns.blogspot.com/

A Work in Progress: http://vicki20.blogspot.com/

Does Size Matter?

As we arrived home from our walk today, I was super excited to find a package waiting for us. I had won an awesome Ebay auction that was a 12 piece lot of new-with-tags Zutano duds for Dash. When I opened the box, the stuff looked big - it was supposed to be 18-24 mo, but most of it was straight up 24 month. And because Dash HATES being dressed, much less "trying things on", I decided to see if they fit Fin. And they did. The WHOLE lot of it.


My three year old can wear all 24 month stuff.


Now before anyone chimes in with a "it must run big", he's also still wearing pants from the Gap and Children's Place that are 24 month. And his friends TOWER over him. People look at me incredulously when he tells them how old he is. I actually had someone ask me last week if he was a preemie. (FYI, no he wasn't, he was born 7lbs and plenty long) And why do people think it's acceptable to say crap like that anyway. Even today some dude told me that his one-year-old was bigger. Is that supposed to be funny? I'm seriously considering redirecting him to tell people he's one.

And before you tell me that he'll have a growth spurt and I should quit worrying (and last time I checked, worrying was in the job description), know that I was once the same height as my classmates. I just stopped growing somewhere around 8. My brother was once taller than most of his classmates too, I think he stopped growing by 10. And in case you needed an exact figure, I'm 4"11...and a half. When Woob and I decided to get married, I joked with him that part of my husband selection process was adding some height to my gene pool. He's tall-ish. And it's not like my parents are particularly short, but there are a fair number of people in my fam that don't achieve 5'5.

Yes, I hope that I'm rereading this in ten years and laughing about how Fin's now a giant manchild, but for now I have to plan for other futures. I was reading a heated online debate recently on growth hormones. I was amazed at how many people felt like taking growth enhancers was messing with mother nature. And more so that the vast majority of those people were a)not short b)not the parents of short children and/or c)not the parents of short boys. And if taking hormones is messing with mother nature, then what about hearing aids? Glasses? Fertility treatments?

And yes, I made a distinction between boys and girls. I know what the suck factors are about being a short girl. Woob even integrated "cute" into our wedding vows just to irritate me (I HATE CUTE!). But, as my mother was always quick to point out, at least I could wear high heels and never have to worry about being taller than my date. For a man? Not so much. And when I worry about my boys being short, it's not like I'm worrying that they won't get to six foot. As a friend put it, I just want them to "blend."

Then there's the argument of "it builds character". To which I recall any other "aid" that might thwart mother nature - I can't imagine telling a deaf person that to restore their hearing would impede their character. Then again, my father's father was short but you never really noticed it - his personality was huge. When he spoke to you, you felt like the only person in the room and he could make you feel like the most beautiful woman on the planet with one complement. He was a great man. Would he have been different if he had been taller? Who knows?

Yes, he's only 3, but if the next three years go by as quickly as the first three, then we, our family and my child, will have some choices to make. Is it wrong to just want to make life as easy as possible for your kids? To want to smooth this one wrinkle (for which I feel more than a little responsible)? What do you think?

For Fin At Three...

My Dearest Fin,

I can't belive I'm already writing you a note for your third birthday. Where has the time gone?

We had a family celebration the night before your birthday. We had Jamie stay with Dash and Daddy and I took you to dinner at Kisho - you loved watching the "Ninja's" cook our dinner and they sang to you too. Afterwards we took you to Fin's Glowzone where they have blacklight miniature golf. When the nice lady manager found out that your name was Fin AND it was your Birthday she even gave you a free t-shirt!

Then today, on your actual birthday, we were supposed to have lunch at Johnny Rockets with all of your friends, but there's a terrible cold going around, so we're going to try again later in the week. Daddy has promised to come home early tonight so we can do something fun as a family. Tomorrow will be your birthday celebration at school and Monika is going to watch Dash so I can volunteer to help. I ordered mini cupcakes from Babe's Bakery and I hope everyone enjoys them!

School has changed our routines a bit. We still walk often with Monika and James, but on Tuesdays and Thursdays you spend your mornings at school! You've done great with the adjustment and you love your teachers. You're a tad of a discipline challenge, but I'd be a total liar if I said I didn't see that one coming. You love learning and you've made some great new friends. I'm very glad we started you when we did. Despite your behavior issues, your teachers say that you are extremely advanced verbally - which I think is code for you never shut up! You're working on writing your letters and recognizing all your numbers 1-20 (you've had 1-10 down for a while now). You're in big boy pants full time now - and you have been for a while - and you're totally accident free. I'm so proud of how well you've handled that transition!

You're incredibly inqusitive and you seem to mature more every day. Yesterday, when your father and I told you we were mad at you for misbehaving, you kept asking us every hour if we were still mad at you. It was almost funny (if you hadn't been so BAD I guess.) You're also working on cutting with scissors and you've become a pro at pedaling a bike. Dash watches you as you learn things every day and you're a wonderful big brother to him. You're extremely patient and loving and we all joke that he thinks that you two are the same age. You still love Star Wars in all it's forms. You have almost every set of the Galactic Heroes people and it's by far your favorite thing of all your toys.

Well, that's all I can think of now my darling. I love you so very much and I am so very proud of the little man you are growing into.

All my love,

Mom

We Are Thankful...

A Happy for the Holiday

What the Wii???

I loooove my Wii, loooove it. And when my mama bought me the Wii Fit for my birthday I was totally enthused. Woob was too. We Wii-Fitted until we went to bed complaining that our hips were still hula-hooping. Seriously, I had no idea how much of a workout that was! And I think I threw my shoulder out in the free-punch round of rhythmic boxing...

But the the enthusiasm waned a bit...that and it's kinda hard to move around the Wii Fit with a kid hanging on each leg.

(Note to mama friends who are thinking of investing - know that this is a naptime activity!)

I still try and Wii-Fit at least twice a week. This usually consists of me doing a few things and then supervising Fin ski jumping, soccer ball heading or penguin fishing. But when I fired up my Wii Fit yesterday I was met with an interesting exchange.

For those of you who have yet to be initiated into the world of Wii Fitting, let me enlighten you on some of the finer points...before you do anything it asks you to weigh in, tell your height etc. You're Mii is sized according to your BMI - which means Fin's Mii is a string bean compared to the rest of us. You are also asked to set goals on weight loss and fitness. Each time you fire it up, it wants you to re-weigh in so it can tell you how largely you're failing at reaching close you are to your goal. After completing the sign-in process, you can then chose your Wii Fitting activities.

Except that it didn't go like that today.

Today, instead of taking me to my activities menu, it asked me if I've seen Woobiiiii lately...

(Yes, the hubs is Woobiiiii, I'm Maggiiiii and Fin is Fiiiiin, we're THAT funny!)

So I clicked yes. The next screen sent me scrambling for my camera. I mean, I wouldn't believe you if you told me that this happened...

I was with Woobiiiii when he Wii-Fitted this weekend. So I know what the Wii Fit is getting at. I know when I'm being baited to out my husband for his Wii Fit failures. Love says click on "the same."
WHAT?!? I refuse to sell the hubs down the dietless river and you accuse me of not paying attention to him! Who was paying attention to him when I made the french onion dip? Or the homemade hot fudge sauce? I'm probably paying TOO much attention to him. At the same time, the dude does work with video game programming so I'm looking for the hidden camera he's set up. Then I get this...

First, now I know he's definitely not behind this one. Second, DID YOU JUST COMPARE MY HUSBAND TO A DOG?!?!

Note to self: Don't let the hubs on the Wii Fit this weekend. I don't want to know what it asks about me!

The Insanity of Holiday Travel

My luggage is out and ready, the "what to pack" list has been printed, and visions of wintry outfits are dancing in my head...

That's right, we're getting ready to travel again.

I'd be lying if I said that I missed flying on our whoooole month off that was October. It was nice to have a few weekends where I wasn't running to the airport and back. But all good things must come to an end, and there is no getting out of Thanksgiving travel this year (although I urge everyone considering having children to birth around the holidays as it can get you out of ANYTHING from travel to awful office parties...)

So this weekend we will be on our way to Nashville to see the hubs' fam. It's Dash's first visit there and probably the first time Fin will really remember the trip, so that's good. My fabuloso MIL has promised to make her famous sausage balls. Mmmmm... Time with family is always good and it will be nice to see all the hubs' high school friends - whom I love as much as my very own high school friends. (Seriously, I looooove you guys! Have the booze ready!)

But then there's the getting there.

With the insane cost of air travel, we're going to have to milk the lap-baby for all it's worth (I mean, if someone offered you $500 to hold a baby for five hours, you'd do it, right?) On the surface, that doesn't sound so bad. I mean, Fin will have his own seat, so that means we three will have our own row. And the two boys don't take up a whole seat even together. But see, if you thought that, you must have only one child. Or no children. Because that would sign us up for a whole flights-worth of "MOM, DASH IS IN MYYYY SEAT! MOOOOOOOMMMM!"

That's once we're on the plane.

Before we get that far, I have to pack for four people and make sure we don't exceed our baggage limit or the weight limit of each bag. Also it means reeling in the hubs who has been known to try and pack every pair of shoes he owns while neglecting, oh I don't know, UNDERWEAR. Speaking of underwear, there is also deciding whether or not Fin should go in a pull-up or undies. (I'd be more comfortable with him in a pull-up but he'd probably throw a fit. He's been totally accident free for a few months, but I KNOW he will tell he that he has to go EMERGENCY as soon as the fasten seat belt sign comes on.) Then there's the fact that our flight leaves at 7am, which means I will get up just won't go to sleep the night before...

And did I mention that half of our family is on the do-not-fly list? Yeah. And yes, I did all of the things you're supposed to do to get them removed and that doesn't so much help. Which is why the boys have passports.

I know, I know. It's wonderful that we're able to make the trek East and spend our Thankful holiday with family.

But if you're on our flight, I apologize. Did I mention that Dash has just found his inner volume button. Seriously, I'm sorry...

And Here Is Your Visual...

...Too bad the slippers hide the orange toenails...

A Sunday Morning Image...

Fin is running around the house in a Star Wars tee, with a Superman Cape on, wearing his furry giraffe slippers (which are hiding his orange toenails - when I took the orange off mine, he demanded I paint his).

Just picture that and you should start the day off smiling. I asked Brooks to take a picture ;)

Why Did I Sign Up For This?

So, as I said before, I signed up to help with the giving tree for Fin's preschool/Church. Initially I agreed to do the label-printing at home (help I can do while in my undies at home = GOOD). Then my friend M said she was going to do the circle die-cutting. The only problem was that M never actually signed up. And I did. Thanks M! (Just kidding, you know I love you)

Also, as I've said before, I'm not really so "into" socializing with the other mom's. There are one or two I like, but I just have trouble relating to conversations that go "so I got the best deal on jeans at that store, I mean, I got 8 pairs of designer jeans for like $500!". Because first of all, who needs 8 pairs of jeans?!? I mean, I probably have 8 pairs, but I guarantee that no more than two are the same size. And I only keep the bigger sizes around until I can say for certain that there will be no more inhabitants who will cause my body to need said larger sizes.

So die-cutting was this morning. And it turns out that someone was sick, so it was only three mamas to cut, hole-punch, and cut and tie ribbon to 250 circles. Yeah. Mama #1 said only a few words, having an only-child daughter in one of the morning classes. Her presence is only worth noting because Mama #2 decided that she was going to yap yap yap at her the whole time.

Mama #2 strolled in with the most ADORABLE little boy. As it turns out, he was adopted from Guatemala. Mama #2 had wanted another child, and her then 8 year old son really wanted a brother so it was off to Guatemala they went. I was really task-oriented, so I added little to the conversation - actually I think I only said that I had two kids and that I thought little Guatemala was adorable.

Then Mama #1 asked how everyone made the adjustment etc. At this point Mama #2 said that while she loved little Guatemala, she regretted adopting him. WHAT?? I should also add that little Guatemala has been with her since he was a few months old and is now 4, so it's not like this is all so fresh and new. She elaborated that if she had been privy to a crystal ball, she would have decided that one was enough and that she never should have adopted....

OH MY GOD PEOPLE, WHO SAYS THAT ABOUT THEIR CHILD?!?!

Even on my WORST days when I'm calling Brooks begging him to come home, I have NEVER thought about not having either of my boys. Get that? I've never even THOUGHT about not having EITHER of them. Much less spewed it to other mothers I don't know. I wonder if she thought the fact that the child was adopted somehow made it more ok for her to feel that way and share it? Maybe it's my own family experience but, yeah, that made me even more irritated with the whole conversation.

Between Mamas #1 and #2 chatting it up and me trying to keep my jaw from dragging on my circles, we didn't even get them half done by our room-related cut off time. So I grabbed my share, tossed them in a bag and brought them home to finish before Mama #2 could finish her "shall we move the party..." question.

I'll just stick to the at home in underpants volunteering from now on thanks.

Why Yes, I Am Wearing Green Eyeshadow

As I sat down to blog, I ran through several options...

I could blog on that everymommy moment you have while at a childs' birthday party where another parent is telling you how many times their children have thrown up in the past 48 hours. I could blog about how the ninjanizer thought it was funny to copy Dash and crawl while dragging his head along the carpet - only to give himself a wicked case of carpet burn across his nose and forehead. I could blog about how I swear the ninjanizer is going through puberty and I'm thinking of employing my grandmothers' methods and telling him that his junk will fall off if he doesn't stop playing with it. Or was it that he would go blind? I forget. I may use both.

But instead, I think I'll blog about what I consider to be one of the top three things I totally dig about being a woman. Makeup. Now I have to think of the other two... I'll go with having babies and (EARMUFFS TO FAMILY) multiple orgasms.

Anyway, it all started with a conversation between me and the ninjanizer the other day...

(While watching Katy Perry's "Hot and Cold" during morning music time)

Fin: Mommy, I like her makeup. It's green. I think she's a Ninjanizer.

Mommy: Maybe mommy should try that...

Now, I should know, between the black fingernail polish and the horrid orange toenail polish that I've been rocking lately, allowing the ninjanizer to make my fashion decisions isn't necessarily a sound plan. I mean, this is a kid who wants to put on his furry giraffe print uggs as soon as he gets home and then won't allow them to be pried off of his sweaty little feet until he's passed out cold. But still I needed to get out of the all-browns-and-beiges-with-a-hint-of-black rut I've been in, so green seemed as good a color as any I guess.

We had a costume-themed birthday party today and I figured that this was a good time to try some experimental makeup...

Self-portrait. Ignore the wrinkles.

So what do you think? I think it turned out pretty neat. I think I might try all blues tomorrow. Of course, that is if the kids will give me more than two seconds of peace in the morning!

The Ninjanizer's TV Viewing Habits

I have to start by saying that my kids don't watch a lot of TV. When the TV upstairs broke, that pretty much weaned us off of our biggest viewing times, in the early AM and before naps and bed. I enjoyed our few months without a bedroom TV and the kids and I started our day with music instead. I'm happy to say that the behemoth didn't change that much. Now we start our days with music videos instead.

(The only downside to that is that Fin is overly fond (read: obsessed) with the Britney Spears "Womanizer" video. Only he INSISTS that they're saying "Ninjanizer". So all day I hear "Ninjanizer, Ninjanizer, oh you're a Ninjanizer..." And no, he cannot explain to me what a Ninjanizer is although he seems to think he is one.)

Anyway, we don't watch a ton of TV. But with Brooks out of town this past week, I started putting movies on for them as a way to unwind before bed. I'm not big with censoring things for them. Fin loves Star Wars and will watch pretty much anything. He's never had a nightmare or really repeated any foul language.

(Although I would like to thank "It's the Great Pumpkin Charlie Brown" for introducing the term "blockhead" and I could do without the attempts at "force choking" me when he's mad.)

One day a few weeks ago when we were watching "Oswald", there came an episode where his best friend, Henry, almost moved away. Fin was beside himself. I was almost unable to get him to calm down enough to watch the end of the show. He's a pretty sensitive kid.

Which should have been my first clue that he shouldn't watch Bambi.

In a fit of guilt over some of the more colorful things I have let him watch lately (I did distract him from watching when the alien jumped out of the dude's chest), I decided that we'd try and stick to some Disney movies. I gave him some options and he, of course, chose Bambi.

So I'd like to thank Disney for my son's panic over hunters and where Bambi's mother went.

I scanned my kids shelf. Nemo, Dumbo, Fox and Hound, Land before Time, Aristocats...I could go on and on. All these movies involve sinister plots (usually by people) to kill/eat/wear the animals. There is parental danger/death/abandonment left and right. And I should be worried about my kid watching Star Wars? Seriously WTF?? The only movies I have on the "safe side" side of the shelf are The New Adventures of Pippi Longstocking and Labyrinth.

And a Pippi viewing results in a week of "running away" threats.

Thankfully Brooks is back at home. He's got some magic mojo going on that enables him to get the kids to sleep in the blink of an eye (Ninjanizer, Ninjanizer, yeah he's a Ninjanizer).

But we're going to watch Iron Man tonight anyway.

Um, Can I Get Some Family Time Please?

So I'm sitting in bed, letting Peter Pan babysit the kids (hey, it's better than Alien, which I let Fin watch last week) and having a little pity party for myself over being a single parent for a few days. Woob is again in Seattle, working hard, and majorly pissing me off for not being here when 1)Dash ate it outside and scraped up his face and hand 2)Dash peed before getting in the tub. All over the bathmat. and 3)Dash threw UP in the tub. While still in it. With Fin. And did I mention that Dash woke up at 2:30 and didn't go back to sleep. Like, yet. And then Fin was up at 6:30.

(EAT ME DAYLIGHT SAVINGS TIME!)

Needless to say, things just don't run smoothly around here with Woob out of town.

I was thinking about how my father never went on business trips and was always home for dinner - even if that meant that during tax season he had to go back to work afterwards. And it made me wonder, WTF has happened to family time?

I can't think of one guy I know who doesn't work late most nights - that 'late' may vary from not being home for dinner to not being home to kiss his lady goodnight. But I don't know anyone who makes it home for a 'family dinner'. And most of the working folks I know do have some travel.

Speaking of travel, WTF is up with business travel. Airfares are through the roof and buying them at last minute makes it that much worse. Why isn't everyone doing teleconferencing? I mean seriously that is SUCH a waste of money! But I digress...

I HATE business travel. But Woob, like most I'm sure, has to compete with co-workers who don't have significant others, or families, or kids. So he doesn't have the luxury of saying, no, I'm not going on that business trip. There's always another worker who will be happy to go and take the job. I totally get that. But man do I HATE business travel.

So when are we supposed to get in any family time? You have to just mark off one weekend day for chores and around-the-house stuff. So one weekend day is all that's left? And that's presuming that your children don't have any activities that eat that day too.

That's just not enough.

(Now imagine me jumping up and down and stomping my feet)

So how do you do it? How do you get in your family time? And how can we fix our culture to value that more and come up with a way for people to work condusive hours?

Off to put the kiddies to bed by myself (and again wonder why Woob can do it in minutes and I get sucked in to hours of snuggles, drinks, potty breaks and more snuggles...)

Halloween Helper

The hubs is notorious for his craftiness - especially when it comes to All Hallows Eve. He's always bugging me to let him make costumes for us and the kiddos and so this year I thought of a way to pick out my own costumes for the boys and still give him the freedom to design his own. I found the worlds cutest bee costumes at Pottery Barn Kids (thanks mama for buying them for us!) and told the hubs to get crackin on a bee keeper get-up.

There were some brief shopping foray's for supplies, but last night the boys went to bed and the hubs turned to me - defeated - and lamented that he hadn't had time to do anything about his costume. Reminding him that at least it was only his own hiney that needed costuming and that the boys were covered, I told him not to worry about it. When I got up this morning he showed me a bee keeper hat that he had made and...well, it was clearly a midnight, last-minute adventure.

While I knew he would have been fine in his half-hearted garb, it made me so sad that he hadn't had the chance to devote the time to make it as great as he wanted. So, once he left for work, I set out to make some improvements. One trip to Osh, one to Beverly's and a whole lotta sewin' on bees while Dash slept in my lap...





















Bees and their Keeper...

Mmmm Tasty Honey....

Bees...




















Bee Hat...

Have Pig, Will Travel

Dash pushes his "car" around all day, so I guess it was natural that this be where he put his piggie!

Oh How Fortunate We Are

It seems like everywhere I go, there is some reminder, some person, tv show, article or else reminding me that our country is in a terrible place right now. Stocks are terrible, people are losing their retirements and their homes and everyone is worried - on both sides - about the coming election and whose vision of "change" will win out. And of course if it will pay out.

It's easy to get caught up in all of it and to worry about the state of our savings and our pending lack of home equity and how to afford all the gifts we want to purchase for Christmas. I did. I was caught up in it. I just blogged about my lust for a $300 dinosaur. Sheesh.

And then I got a gentile reminder of how very fortunate we are from Jen at one plus two. I "found" Jen's blog through Redneck Mommy a few months ago and was fascinated with the journey she is about to embark on. I'd detail it here, but she does a much better job of it on her own site, so hop over if you care to learn more. The quick and dirty is that she is planning on moving with her family to the Belizean jungle to live a life free of commercialism and modern luxuries. But currently, her little village and all the folks who are already becoming her new extended family is under water. Really makes me see how that $300 could be more than a little better spent. So I donated. Not much by our standards, but what I could, and I've been assured that in that part of the world the money will go much farther than it would here.

I'm not asking everyone I know to run to her site and donate your little hearts out (although it would be nice if you are so inclined), nor do I want or need a reminder that there are plenty facing hardships in our own backyards (yes, I'm also working my tookas off for Fin's school's Christmas-family-adoptapalooza). But I just thought it would be nice for everyone to remember someone else in this holiday season fast approaching. Donate in someone's name instead of giving a gift. Pick a name, or two or three, off that tree at church - and if you don't have a church, find someone who does and ask them to grab you one. Drop a toy off in one of the boxes that are already popping up all over town. Just do something nice for someone you don't know.

And, although it kills me to say this, please return the Kota dinosaurs you bought for Fin and Dash and send the money to someone who really needs it...