In our house, we grow trees. Adam has always watered the indoor stuff, and I handle the outdoor gardening. Some of the trees he has been caring for are between 5 and 7 years old. They were in 4″ pots when we purchased them. Small little houseplants in tiny little pots. Adam fertilized them, transplanted them into larger pots as they grew, and watered them once a week during the summer months and twice a week during the winter months. He does a great job. Our plants flourish. I am very thankful that he handles this household task in its entirety. I don’t normally pay much attention to how much he waters them, and that’s mainly because they look great. They are big, they are lush.

Today I did pay attention. Adam walked around the house with his watering can, stopping at each plant and quenching their thirst.

And then I burst into laughter, as he watered this one:

He looked at me. I couldn’t control my loud, raucous laughter. And then he asked, “This isn’t real, is it? I’ve been watering every week for two years.”

Nope buddy, I found that one at TJ Maxx. At least now, I know he doesn’t over water the plants.

I think we can pretty much confirm that Ethan has the same patience level I do when it comes to dealing with co-workers.

Dick Wad walks into my office, with cell phone to ear and the conversation goes something like this:

Dick Wad: Dena, do you know our Virginia Contractor’s number?
Me: What? (not the I can’t hear you “what”, the “what the fuck” what
Dick Wad: Isn’t that something you normally deal with?
Me: [talking in my head] Yeah, that’s one of those things that I memorize so I can just recite it on queue to a stupid moron like you]
Me: [in a really shitty, really sarcastic voice] Sure, let drop everything I’m doing and get that for you.

I stand up, walk over to my bookshelf and pull out a proposal for Dick Wad. He smiles (the site of him makes me want to vomit all over my desk), and takes the proposal from my hand and walks out.
A few minutes later, he walks back into my office, and hands me my proposal.

Dick Wad: Here you go. You’re the best! You do a bang-up job!
Me: [again, in my head] Gosh, you’re a pathetic piece of shit.
Me: Sure, it was my extreme pleasure. Anything to help.

I used to work with such a fun group of people. Now we only have losers. Losers with no sense of humor. Losers who are afraid of the Owner of the company. Losers who walk around on eggshells because they have no balls. LOSERS.

I’m having a bad week at work. Can you tell?

Once again, you losers need to be reminded just how stupid you are. I’ve said it before, but you’ve pissed me the fuck off one too many times this week. It’s only Tuesday people! And so, as a remdiner:

Do not come in my office, and stare at me when you know damn well I’m on a personal phone call.

Do not take my pens! MY pens! I bought them. I have them in MY pen holder (which I also purchased with MY money) because I like to use MY own things.

Do not take my photo paper. While it’s not technically MY paper, it is expensive and I use it for a real purpose, like printing out pictures of my kids.

Do not stop by and chat with me if:
you smell
your hair is dirty
you’re wearing the same thing you wore yesterday and the day before
you have sucky posture and you allow your stomach muscles to relax

Do not ask me where “such and such” is. They may sit in the office next to me, but I don’t ask them where they are going when/if I see them walk past my office.

Turn off the speaker phone. Pick your fucking phone up. You are not that fucking important, and I don’t want to hear every single one of your conversations.

I love children’s books. I take great pleasure in picking out books for Ethan. The covers are what drag me in, then the title, and then I read the first page to finalize the decision of whether or not to add it to our collection.

These are a few of my favorites:

The Mouse Before Christmas – On Christmas Eve, a little mouse decides to stay awake to see Santa and ends up taking a wild ride in Santa’s sleigh before being returned home safe and sound.

The Reindeer Christmas – A charming story explaining how Santa got his sleigh (his elves made it when delivering presents on foot became overwhelming) and why reindeer pull it (because Santa once used his sleigh to rescue an injured reindeer).

Snowmen at Christmas – This picture book poses a most ponderable bedtime question: How do snowmen celebrate Christmas? As he lies all snug in his bed, the boy narrator imagines merry snowmen gathering in the town square, hanging sparkling balls of snow on the big Christmas tree. A charming holiday bedtime story. Mark Buehner’s radiant paintings can melt hearts, even on the coldest wintry night.

Bear Stays up at Christmas – Bear’s friends awaken him the day before Christmas and help him to stay awake as they bake fruitcakes, fill stockings, and sing carols; then, while they sleep, he prepares his own surprise.

The Little Fir Tree – By the legendary Margaret Wise Brown. All alone in an empty field grew a little fir tree. It dreamed of being part of a forest-or part of anything at all. Then one winter day, a man takes the little fir tree away and it finds itself at the center of a little boy’s very special celebration.

Who’s That Knocking on Christmas Eve? – Beloved children’s author Jan Brett sends us to faraway Finnmark for a rollicking tale of a boy, his bear, and band of hungry trolls.

A Bit of Applause for Mrs. Claus – Even though Santa gets all the acclaim, behind the scenes, it’s Mrs. Claus who keeps everything running smoothly through the busiest time of year at the North Pole. Finally, Mrs. Claus gets the acknowledgment she deserves in this rewriting of ‘Twas the Night Before Christmas”.

It doesn’t matter if you have a child to read to, or are just a child at heart. A good Christmas story will get you in the spirit. Do you have any favorites? I’m always up for a good suggestion.

I’ve always struggled with the whole Santa Claus myth. Is there? Isn’t there? How old should kids hang on to the belief? Is it unfair to take away the magic of Christmas by exposing Santa Claus?

When my oldest two children were old enough to understand that money had a value attached to it, I thought it was time to explain why on Christmas morning Santa failed to bring every single toy or item on their multi-paged lists on. It was easy enough. I told them that Santa made and delivered the gifts, but those gifts did not come without a price tag. I had to pay Santa for the gifts. I also explained that Santa had a lot of elves and reindeer to feed, and the North Pole was a huge responsiblity for Santa, and he needed our help. The money that I paid Santa helped to make sure that he could make his yearly trip around the world. This also helped to explain why some children in their classes got nothing for Christams. Nothing.

Many of my peers criticized my methods, and voiced their opinion, with quite a bit of enthusiasm, that I was killing the spirit of Christmas for my children. I didn’t think so. In fact, I thought I was doing the exact opposite. Would Santa really be so cruel that he would fly right over the homes of the poor children? Is it possible that the children with the nicest homes, in the nicest neighborhoods, were the only “good” children. If not, then why were they the ones with the most presents under their trees. The entire only “good” children get presents from Santa is the biggest lie of all. Doesn’t this teach our children that only those with money are good? What a shameful lesson!

As my children grew, I made certain that they understood the true spirit of Christmas was the act of giving, especially to your community. I am alrady teaching Ethan that Santa can’t do all he does without our help. This year I plan to explain to him that sometimes Santa needs us to help deliver toys to the children who have no money for toys. Next weekend, we will pick a child’s name from the Angel tree and then pick some gifts out for that child. It’s not a huge gesture, but it will teach Ethan that even Santa Claus can’t do it all, and that it takes the whole world to make Christmas special.

Yes, Ethan, there is a Santa. But like everyone else in the world, he also needs a little help from his friends.

Adam and I had one of our first, and only fights over Christmas tree lights. I’m a perfectionist. I spend hours putting the lights on the trees. Hours! Each branch gets lit; in, out, on top, and underneath. It’s a long, arduous process, and one that I used to enjoy and take immense pleasure and pride in.

That is, until the day we brought home the 12 foot tree, with a bottom branch span almost as wide. Balancing, and leveling the tree seemed like an unobtainable task, and by the time we were on tree stand number two, we felt pretty certain the tree was secure. I spent the majority of the day putting the lights on the tree. I turned the lights on, and felt that my efforts were worthwhile. Put a strand on, stand back, squint your eyes, and judge if the sparkles are evenly spaced. That’s the way to achieve light perfection. Not only did I have to have a giant tree, but I also had to have a blue spruce. I love the color and scent, but the branches do major damage on your arms when you’re winding in and out branches that are longer than you are tall. There is a reason they call the leaves needles. I decided that the branches could wait until morning for the ornaments.

A day of tree lighting demands a night of cocktails, and so we left to enjoy a relaxing night out. When we returned to the house that evening, the tree was on the floor, and the half the bulbs, crushed. I was in tears. Luckily, the cocktails added humor to the situation, and I dedided sleep would put it all in perspective the next morning.

The next morning we stood the tree up again, but not until we had purchased tree stand number three, and felt damn sure that this one would work. I redid the lights, and started adding the decorations. I was closed to finished, and turned my around to grab another ornament off the table, when I saw something starting to fall toward me. I quickly turned around, and caught the tree as it came tumbling toward me. I screamed for help, and Adam, Stephen and Cristin came running. Again, we managed to get the tree standing again. I was once again in tears, because a few favorite ornaments were broken, and I needed to readjust the lights and rehang ornaments. I was beginning to lose the Christmas spirit, and Adam was starting to tire of the entire ordeal. He threatened that he was going to throw the tree over the deck, and into the salt marsh, if I didn’t stop crying. I cried more.

The tree did fall one more time, but we were both standing near it, and caught it. Adam then grabbed some fishing line, wrapped it around the tree, and nailed it to the wall. The tree didn’t fall again, but it certainly made us less excited about getting the biggest, most beautiful tree we could find. The following year I purchased a 5 foot tree, that I could lift wiht one hand and practically threw the lights on and let them stay as they lay. The entire decorating proces may have taken ten minutes.

Last year we made the huge decision to buy a pre-lit, 7 foot tall, and very narrow tree. I love it. I burn Christmas scented candles, and don’t miss the scent of a live tree one bit. Life is good. We now focus on outdoor lights, and the headache of putting lights on the indorr Christmas tree is behind us. One day we may forget the epsiode of a few years ago, but for now it’s much too fresh in our minds, and we are eternally grateful for the person who invented the pre-lit Christmas tree. It truly is a masterpiece, and has probably saved more than one marriage.

We completed most of the decorating today, and I’m pretty pleased with all we’ve done. We’ll add more, but the main thing is we did it all with no stress and no problems. As for the shopping, there’s still time. Time, and the internet.

We have never been one of those families that sends photos with Christmas cards. In fact, when I came up with the idea this year my daugther remarked that, “we always laughted at people that did that”, and we did. This year I decided to go against my inner cynic, and include a snapshot of the three of them in our cards. Our relatives will love it, and that’s really all that matters.

On Thanksgiving Day, I forced the three if them to take some photos. It wasn’t easy. I got a multitude of rolled eyes, a sprinkling of “have you lost your mind?” and a couple of “this blows” from the three of them. They all considered it “done” after the first “sit here, and hold still”, and wanted to move on to something different immediately. I got a few decent ones, and now I can’t make up my mind which one to use. One of these will be it, and I’ve narrowed it down to just these few, so let me know which one you like best. The most votes wins, and will be included in the cards sent to the grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins.

Appetizer
What did you look like when you were a teenager?
I looked like I do now, just younger. I was tall and thin with waist length dark hair and a year round tan. I heard one of these almost every single day of my teen life:
Are you an Indian?
Where’s Sonny?

Yep, that’s pretty much what I looked like, and I used to hate hearing it.

Salad
Whose advice do you listen to?
I listen to most advice. I don’t always follow it, but I do listen.

Soup
Name a book you would like to memorize.
Hop on Pop. I think I might be able to pull that one off.

Main Course
How often are you sick?
With minor things, almost never. I’m dramatic. I like to get the big stuff.

Dessert
Do you like or dislike change?
I love change!

The Christmas bonus that my boss had the good sense to give me today, so I can catch all the good sales this weekend.
The quart of 24kt ice cream I picked up at Cold Stone tonight – Carrot cake batter ice cream, walnuts, graham cracker pie crust and caramel…yum!
My Mom – she’s doing the entire T’giving day dinner, and all I have to bring is the Cold Stone Ice Cream cake for dessert.
The mother at E’s school who brought the chocolate ball coookies to the T’giving dinner today. Too bad she only speaks Hungarian, and probably won’t understand what I’m talking about when I beg her for the recipe.

Truly, I have much to be thankful for.

Three beautiful children:

Stephen

Cristin

Ethan

I have a wonderful husband who loves me AND my martinis.

I’ve got my health, and I’ll have a fun new scar to remind me.

I have good friends and a wonderful family. I know I can count on them, and I know that they care.

For all that I have to be thankful for, there are so many others that are missing all of that – the family, the friends, their health. I cannot help but look at my family and feel blessed today.