I've Been Tagged -- Again

ABC Blag

A- Attached or Single? Attached (but my earlobes are not).
B- Best Friend? guy: Nigel -- girl: I must admit that I haven't had a "call on the phone and talk for hours and go out to lunch every week" girlfriend since I've been married (though my sister, Lorna, is often dragged into those situations). I have lots of friends, but Nigel is my best buddy.
C- Cake or pie? Oh my goodness, it HAS to be pie. For my birthday? Pie. For Thanksgiving? Pie. For Christmas? Pie. I used to love Key Lime, but my body has revolted against all citrus. Chocolate cream or coconut cream is always good. Not into the fruit pies.
D- Day of choice? Tuesday (that's the only day I get off of work).
E- Essential Item? My budget paper that I keep in my wallet (I keep track of every penny -- I don't spend my money wisely, but I know where every cent goes).
F- Favorite Color? Pink
G- Gummy Bears or Worms? I hate all things gummy (or goomy as Gnat likes to say).
H- Hometown? Clover City, CA
I- Favorite Indulgence? Cadbury Cream Eggs or Pepperidge Farms Mint Brussels cookies.
J- January or July? July (I look forward to the Freedom Festival and Pioneer Day every year).
K- Kids? 3: Frances, Jeffrey, and Alice-Grace
L - Life isn't complete without? Old MGM musicals.
M- Marriage date? Dang coldest and windiest day to be outside taking photos while surrounded by turkey farms.
N- Number of brothers and sisters? 5 brothers: Clark, Spence, J.D., Henry and Stillwell; 3 sisters: Lorna, Myrna and Rena
O- Oranges or Apples? Peaches (always peaches).
P- Phobia and fears? Falling in the shower and knocking out all my teeth (Denturaphobia).
Q- Quote? "Mr. Green is Left-Handed" (graffiti at my high school).
R- Reason to smile? Seeing people trip (yes, I know that's horrible, but I can't help myself).
S- Season of choice? Fall (also known as pie baking weather).
T- Tag three people? Can I tranquilize and tag some wild animals instead?
U- Unknown fact about me? I went to junior high with the actor/musician Jack Black.
V- Vegetable? Green beans (the squeaky ones).
W- Worst habit? Biting my nails.
X-Ray or Ultrasound? I don't want to drink a bunch of water, so I'm saying X-ray.
Y- Your favorite food? Ginger's elk enchiladas (I can eat them every day of my life).
Z- Zodiac sign? "Keep Off The Grass"

Christmas Spirit

I am way excited for Christmas.

Maybe it's because I don't have to work (either job), maybe it's because of all the gifts under the tree (that I didn't have to run out to buy), maybe it's because I'm loopy on Nigel's fondue (did he cook out all the wine?).

I think it's because we had a great Christmas eve of family, food and fun.

My brother and his wife (Henry and Julene) came to visit with their two adorable sons. Jeffrey was so excited to finally have some boys to play with. Lorna stopped by really quick. Our friend, Gayle, came to spend the holiday with us. We visited, ate cheese fondue, read the Christmas story, and everyone got to open one gift.

Oh, I'm so looking forward to tomorrow. Did I mention that I don't have to work?

I'm ready for my close-up, Mr. DeMille

Back in the early 50s, my father worked in TV. Even though he soon left that job to work as an electrical engineer, he still had some of that movie magic running through his veins.

It started with a Super-8 camera taking simple films of his growing family hanging up their stockings every Christmas eve. As the years went by, we couldn't just hang up our stockings, we had to have ever more elaborate skits that went with the hanging of the stockings. Regular lamps weren't good enough, my dad had these super bright spot lights that would blind us all as he would yell, "Open up your eyes!"

Lorna's husband, Jorge, proclaimed ours "The Cecil B. DeMille Christmases." Just like real film making, we had to wait forever for the lighting to be just right, we'd finally get our skit perfect and my dad would realize that he had the lens cap still on (or no film in the camera), and it would always go over time and over budget. I would half expect to see a couple of grips eating at the Crafts Services table in our living room with the way these productions would play out.

Then in the early '80s, we were introduced to video tape. SOUND. Just like the old silent movie era actors, we were kind of hesitant and some of our skits were still done with no sound. After a year or so, we used this new medium to showcase J.D.'s band or Rena's vocal lessons. Soon, all the neighborhood kids were also involved in our movies.

My favorite Christmas film was when the entire family was struck down with the stomach flu, but we still went on with the show -- with all the kids carrying pots around for barfing in.

Another good one was when Ardale went on and on about how proud he was of Spence and how much we miss him while he's on his mission. Then we hear Spence in the background say, "Don't you mean Henry?" Oh, you should've seen my dad's face on that one.

Just like in real life, we try our best to plan things out and control everything. And just like in real life, our favorite memories consist of the times when everything goes wrong.

Tradition! Tradition!

When my brother and his wife were first married, Julene asked Henry what his childhood Christmases were like. He talked about all the traditions, including getting breakfast in bed, peanuts in his stockings, putting up Christmas lists, etc. and didn't give the conversation a second thought.

When Christmas day came around, Julene surprised Henry with breakfast in bed. Henry complained, "Oatmeal! I hate oatmeal!" Julene was shocked because this was his family tradition. "No," Henry replied, "Our mom forced us to eat oatmeal so that we wouldn't make ourselves sick eating candy all day. We all despise oatmeal" (in fact, Rena and I used to throw the oatmeal out the window, Stillwell flushed it down the toilet and Spence spooned it into his sock drawer every year).

When Henry looked in his stocking, it was filled with peanuts in the shell. "Peanuts! What am I supposed to do with peanuts?" Again, Julene was confused. "But you told me you always got peanuts in your stockings." Henry answered, "Yeah, they were just used as filler so they wouldn't have to fill them with so many toys and candy" (I'm positive those same peanuts were recycled year after year).

Then Henry looked under the tree and it was filled with presents for him. Julene had given him EVERYTHING on his list. She didn't understand that our family put up lists every year, but we never expected to get the things on them -- maybe just one or two if we were lucky. Then he felt REALLY bad because he had only given Julene one or two things from her list, and she was probably expecting ALL of them!

Traditions are what make holidays great, but we should understand the meaning behind them and understand when to change them to fit our situations. I'm sure that Henry and Julene have many wonderful and new traditions they enjoy at Christmas, and I'm sure that they still laugh at their first one.

Don't Forget to Vote!

I don't think that I've ever missed voting in an election since I turned 18. It's not that I'm super politically minded, but it's more of my fear that if I don't vote every year, they may take my name off the polls and I'll have to register again (and I don't know how to register to vote).

Similarly, I had 100% attendance in junior high and high school. I found out years later that my brother, Henry, also had 100% attendance for the exact same reason ("Mom, I know I'm coughing up a lung and bleeding from my eyes, but I can't miss school, I don't even know where the office is!").

Also, I feel bad for the voting officials in my precinct. My area is full of college students, so none of them ever vote. Also, I vote in a car dealership. A CAR DEALERSHIP! Who votes in a car dealership? So the officials are always very excited whenever ANYONE shows up (Geo and C. Jane, you know what I'm talking about).

Plus, I always think of that British suffragette who threw herself in the middle of a horse race for "the cause." She throws herself in front of a horse and I can't get off my butt and vote? I think not.

So get out there and vote -- and be grateful that you can.

Waiting for the Babies to Come

After you get married, always the first question out of people’s mouths is, “Are you pregnant yet?” The months and years go by and they ask, “So, when are you going to have kids?” You jokingly answer with “All the righteous women in the Bible were barren” or “I was originally born a man.”

But even worse than the questions is when the questions STOP. Now it’s official. You’re part of “the club,” those couples without children. The members and their reasons for membership are varied, and the dues are very costly.

You walk around like a recent amputee with phantom limb pain – you can feel that baby on your hip or a small hand clasped in yours, but when you look down, there’s nothing there. The worst is Mother’s Day at church and the young men hand you your “pity” potted plant. It’s one disappointment after another – like Henry and Julene, after being 10 plus years on the adoption waiting list and when it looks like they’re finally going to get their boys, the agency “loses” their information and they have to go through it all over again.

The worst was standing in a crowded room and seeing a man yell across to another man, “Hey, where’s the rest of your kids? I thought you had six.” “No, just five,” he replies.” The first man continues, “Really? I thought it was six.” And you want to run over and cover his mouth and yell, “SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP!” Because they DID have six, but their little baby girl – their ONLY girl – had just died. But you don’t and the father doesn’t. You just smile and continue on with your life, because that’s one of the rules of “the club.”

You come to the realization that it's not going to happen for you and you take the box of baby clothes and baby toys that you've been saving and you slowly, one by one, wrap them up and give them away to others who have realized their baby dreams.

But then, the doctor announces, “It’s a girl!” And this little, perfect child, who you already know, is handed to you. Wonderfully, a few years later you have a boy, and then another girl. And just like that, you’ve been kicked out of “the club.”

I'm so very grateful for my three beautiful children, but I'm also thankful for those seven years in "the club" because it has given me insight and empathy towards those who are still members of it.