Cash gift idea

So, here you are on Christmas Eve and you have that last gift to snag for a young person on your list ... hmmm ... what to do?

Money, my friends.

Cash = freedom, especially for young people. Freedom to save, spend or just blow it. From the pre-teen years on up through their 20s (and beyond, if we're being honest), kids want cash. They just do.

As a gift giver, though, cash is ... eh, boring. It's no fun to give.

... hands a 20 to nephew ... "Here, go buy yourself something real nice."

Blah.

Recently, I was faced with this conundrum myself. My son was participating in a gift exchange among his cousins. He drew his awesome, wonderful 15-year-old male cousin's name. There was a $20 limit on the gift.

"What do you want to get him?" I asked my son.

"Cash. He's going to want cash, Mom."

Boring.

Not liking that answer, we consulted with the parents to really gauge his heart's desire (at the $20 level) and they said the same thing: he wants cash. He will be 16 soon and he is saving for a car and all the things to go with it - like gasoline and fountain drinks from fast food drive-thrus that you actually do the driving through.

Not satisfied with just having one 15-year-old boy hand another 15-year-old boy a crisp 20 (though both 15-year-olds would have been cool with that), I sought help from the highest authority on how to package said 20 with flair: Pinterest.

Pinterest was too hard.

For example, a simple money tree, you know, where you hang singles from the branches? I'd have to hand craft a tree - a freaking tree of sorts - and then you know, hang the money.

Um, no.

There are a lot of people who are far more creative than I with much more time than I. I love, admire and respect you people. But I am not one of you people.

But there was inspiration.

Here's what I came up with. It can be used for any gift-giving occasion: birthdays, holidays, graduation, new home, new job, etc.

It involved the following: A wooden rolling pin ($3 at Walmart), a small cookie sheet ($1 at Dollar Tree), clear packing tape and a 20 dollar bill. And the thought: rolling the dough.

I taped the rolling pin to the cookie sheet with the packing tape so it would not shift or move, typed up a little note and then lightly taped the money using regular Scotch tape.

Here it is:

It fit in a shirt box so I could even wrap it up and he would have something to open.

Detail showing where I used the clear tape to adhere the rolling pin and note. Don't use packing tape to adhere the money; it is lightly taped with regular tape rolled on the back.

"I hope you're rolling in the dough so you can save up for a sweet ride." Get it? ;)

What will a 15-year-old boy do with a wooden rolling pin? No idea. But it made him smile and got him $20 closer to whatever his heart desires this Christmas.

And that is what it's all about, my friends.

Merry Christmas!

PS - The photo at the top of this post is of my son's stocking, so, spoiler alert if you read this, Son: there's $20 in your stocking. You're welcome.

Ready for Christmas

So ... you done with your Christmas shopping yet?

How many times have you been asked that in the last few weeks? Before Thanksgiving it was probably phrased more along the lines of, "So ... have you started your Christmas shopping yet?" but it's been a conversation starter all season in one form or another.

It's a valid question this time of year. Knocking out that gift list is an endeavor, no matter how long - or short - the list. And let's face it, it's crunch time, people. Tick-tock.

Sure, asking about holiday shopping can just be small talk, just like innocuous conversations about the weather or the score of the game last night. The material aspect of the holidays is part of our culture. To ignore it, is to play dumb.

But asking someone a seemingly inoffensive question about his or her shopping progress can also feel like a measuring stick of sorts. It can  reveal more about our celebration than whether or not we scored a sweet parking spot at the mall, how long the checkout line was at Target, or if we'll redeem our Kohl's Cash on slippers for Dad.

It can feel like you're really asking things like:

• How much money do you have to spend?
• How organized are you?
• Do you have a lot of people in your life to buy for?
• Are you loved?
• How much do you care about the people in your life based on the amount you will spend?
• How much spirit do you have?

Those questions don't feel much like Christmas at all, do they?

A simple little question about shopping that I, myself, have asked about 100 times in the last few weeks, can leave some feeling anxious or judged. That's not Christmas at all.

I'm late to the game for this season, but am going to try something more along the lines of, Are you ready for Christmas?

• Are you ready for a fresh start?
• Are you ready for redemption?
• Are you ready for miracles?
• Are you ready to own your life?
• Are you ready to accept peace and love?

Because when it comes down to it, no matter how big the stack of garbage bags filled with torn wrapping paper and broken-down shirt boxes you have sitting curbside for trash pick-up Friday*, Christmas is more than a to-do list to be checked-off; more than a stash of receipts.

The best gifts of Christmas - love, acceptance, attention, friendship - are purchased in full with an open heart, and acts of loving kindness.

* Please recycle!

... and then it was November

It's been well over a week since Halloween swept in and out in the whisk of a broom.

There were plenty of treats.

Oreo truffle eyeballs

Choc-dipped pretzel monster fingers

And tricks.

The weather proved to be the biggest trickster of all. There was rain. Then came the cold. Like, I-can't-feel-my-ass cold. Then blow-the-hat-off-a-witch's-head wind.

Then it snowed.

Snowed. In October. For the first time in 21 years.

And then it was November.

And apparently Christmas.

While we're not celebrating Christmas just yet at our house, it's on the radio, on TV and in all the stores already, well ensconced since Halloween or even before. Holiday lights twinkle from neighborhood homes.

Already.

Our garage is full of Halloween décor yet to be processed and put away. We are not even thinking about Christmas yet.

I don't want Christmas to totally slap me in the face the day after Thanksgiving, but this autumn has been fun, hectic and lovely and I am not ready to hand it over to jingling bells just yet.

Besides, it's still November. And we will do November-y things like mulch fallen leaves, put the gardens to bed, buy new long-sleeved shirts for an ever-growing teen, attend all sorts of band and church events, spend time with friends, enjoy the fleeting fall temps ...

And panic.

It's already November ... and Christmas is just a month away.

21 years and then some

 

Last week, my husband and I celebrated our 21st anniversary.

[That's 26 years together - total - in case you're keeping track]

As I mentioned in my last post, I've been busy lately, as has he, and we haven't really spent much time together as a couple.

It's ok; we're ok. After 21 years, we do not have to smother one another in order to know we love one another. It goes without saying, though we do a good job of saying it often.

Still, a girl needs some attention from her best fella from time to time, and an anniversary would seem like a given for date night.

It wasn't.

He had to work. So did I, actually, but our work schedules are opposite shifts. I barely saw him that morning as he came home and I headed out the door. And barely saw him that afternoon as I came home and he headed out the door.

I spent my 21st wedding anniversary on the couch eating Chinese take-out with my teen son.

Not terrible. But not at all romantic.

We don't give much in the way of gifts after all these years - except for last year, our 20th, when he totally surprised me - but in those passing moments last week, however, we did manage to make an impact.

He had a huge bouquet of sunflowers for me. Nearly a week later, their sunny, open faces still make me smile when I see them. Perfect.

He is more difficult to buy for than I am, especially when we agreed to skip gifts for each other anyway. Still, I couldn't let the day pass with some sort of sweet gesture for such a sweet guy.

I put together a little treat for him to take to the office with him, a box full of candy that he likes with the note, For my Sweetie.

In it, I placed bags of candy with handwritten notes:

• Hershey chocolate bars: Something rich ... because we are rich in blessings
• Snickers: Something nutty ... because I'm nuts about you
• Mint M&Ms: Something minty ... because we're so cool
• Dove chocolates: Something smooth ... because we still got it

Yes, that last one was intentionally dorky and it made him chuckle because we are the opposite of smooth. Actually, it was all dorky and made him smile. And tear right into the chocolate as we sat there, abandoning me for the evening in a pile of Snicker wrappers.

Two days later, we were able to get together for an afternoon stroll and dinner. We held hands. We talked about nothing important, just rambling conversation. We smiled at each other, genuinely glad to be together in that moment, for that moment.

And then my son texted, ready to be picked up from his band trip and we were slammed back in parent mode.

That's ok. Sometimes it only takes little time, a little attention to tide you over. Besides, marriage isn't about one special day a year. It's about all 365 days ... x 21, + lots more to come.

[x 26 + lots more to come - total - in case you're keeping track]

Christmas ... even in July

"Christmas isn't a season. It's a feeling." - Edna Ferber

Yesterday, we celebrated Christmas in July by hosting a little cookout at our house.

Before you start with the whole, it's-too-soon blah blah blah negativity, please understand:
1. I don't care
2. I agree

I don't care if you don't like my party theme. It's okay to stop reading this post right now. We can still be friends.

I agree Christmas is over commercialized and retailers try to get in our pockets way too early and Thanksgiving gets completely overlooked. I've talked about this before.

I've also shared that my family and I have a longstanding tradition of celebrating Christmas in July. This year, we decided to open the doors and invite friends to share in the celebrations with us.

It was definitely July. A cranky thunderstorm Saturday had strewn leaves about, tossed our patio chairs and left the yard soaked. It rained and rumbled Sunday morning too, making it a sweaty-wool-blanket kind of horrible humidity. And when the summer sun shone in the afternoon just before guests arrived, temps crept up toward 90 and a wind kicked up.

Stupid thunderstorm tried to kill my tomato plants. Stupid storm.

Not a cooling wind. It was the kind of wind that pushes the thick air directly into your lungs in order to better scorch them.

It was perfect cookout weather ... if you like to barbecue in a freaking oven.

That was the July part of Christmas in July. Despite the heat - which eventually gave way to cool temps by nightfall - there were also some of the better aspects of July: the long summer evening, teens playing capture the flag and lawn Twister, eating hot dogs off paper plates while sitting on a blanket in the grass.

The Christmas part included twinkle lights adorning the deck rails and festive holiday music playing. Inside, we had a small white tree in the kitchen sporting small stockings filled with school supplies and candy (school starts here Thursday) and glittery star ornaments for the kids to take home.

Sweet treats normally savored in December.

A little tree in the living room and a few homemade hostess gifts to send home with guests.

I'll tell you how to make these fun, easy vinyl letter canvases in another post. Promise.

In the spirit of giving, guests brought dog and cat treats to be donated to the local animal shelter.

It wasn't the biggest party we've ever had. Nor was it the most elaborate endeavor. But it was fun and festive and good to share with friends.

Christmas in July has never ruined "real" Christmas for us. This little sneak of festivity in no way detracts from the big one in December.

It was the easy, obligation-free version of Christmas: simple gratitude for the good people in our lives; the blissful tickle of tastes, sounds and aromas that trigger happy sense memories; sharing and caring for no other reason than the simple desire to do so; a reminder that God's love shines all year and in every season.

That's why we celebrate a little bit of Christmas in July.

"Christmas, my child, is love in action. Every time we love, every time we give, it's Christmas." - Dale Evans

A party or two

Chocolate-covered strawberries.

Fun and festive.

That's how I would describe last weekend, Friday through Monday night. I had four events/parties to work, attend or host.

Exhausting - that's another another word I'd use too.

Complaining? Not really. I have no complaints.

Jars of fresh-cut sunflowers and candles make pretty summer party table decor.

I'm grateful for the fun occasions. They just wore me out.

In a good way. Like, "Wow ... such fun" - and also like, "Wow ... wish I had time for a nap."

Friday, was a midday work event. It was a fancy luncheon for a lot of good people. There was a string quartet, notable speaker, awards and recognition, and a yummy dessert (essential for success, in my book). It was an event steeped in tradition and people genuinely seemed to enjoy themselves. That's what we're shooting for.

I would love to show you pictures from it, but I was too busy working.

Saturday was a chocolate-themed garden party. Guests brought chocolate desserts and it was just a lovely night. And delicious. I even wore a proper party dress.

I would love to show you pictures from it, but I was too busy enjoying myself.

Sunday was our very own annual cookout. We hosted more than 20 guests, grilled 24 half chickens and another 20 pound of potatoes. Lots of food and laughter.

And leftovers.

I would love to show you lots of pictures from it, but I was too busy enjoying myself and my guests. 

Chocolate-dipped pretzels, served in a bucket filled with M&Ms.

Monday, I made some sweet treats for a very girlie  and proper tea party for a young friend of the family. It was so fun to watch those teen girls, all decked out in fancy party dresses, celebrate friendships.

I would love to show you pictures from it, but I was too busy enjoying myself.

My social calendar is rarely so party-filled all at once. Even at the holidays, I tend to get at least a day in between events.

This weekend, however, is back to normal, with little fanfare. That's okay.

You don't always need to have a party to celebrate the good times in life.

But, then again ... why not?

"The more you praise and celebrate your life, the more there is in life to celebrate." - Oprah Winfrey

Becoming Mom

Last week my son turned 15.

It was a low-key birthday for him. He had school all day and indoor percussion group rehearsal all evening. He had homework. His dinner was one of time-constrained convenience. His main birthday gift (sweet vintage hi-hat and ride cymbals for his drumset!) arrived a couple of days afterward.

Even though there wasn't even a proper cake in this house, I whipped up a batch of chocolate chip brownies, per his request. The three of us grabbed a few minutes to light a candle, sing and nosh before the day was over.

Though it doesn't sound like all that much fun, he managed to carve out a great day. After all, it was his day. Like all teens, he digs the mystique of getting older. Family and friends wished him well and paid attention to him for that very reason. Cards arrived via post, many included a little something special in the form of gift cards or cash - both his favorites right now. It was a special day for him.

That day last week was not about me  - my own birthday is just a couple of weeks away - and yet, I mark the day as significant.

It's the anniversary of the most important day of my life.

As much as I love my husband - and I truly do - on that day 15 years ago, I was introduced to love as I'd never known it. It's the kind of attachment born of sacrifice, blood, pain and fear. I will spare you the details of my delivery day, but I will say that it was medically complicated for me and took a rapid turn toward serious just after my son's arrival. The quick actions of the medical staff and my doctor in those moments ensured that I am sitting here at this keyboard today and I am forever grateful for that.

But there would be no more pregnancies or deliveries; no more children in this house. This was enough.

Giving birth to that boy 15 years ago didn't automatically give me purpose or grant me patience or make me wiser. It did, however, set me on the path to those things with a less-than-self-serving motivation I hadn't previously known.

[Aside: I have not yet arrived at those destinations]

I was forever changed for the better 15 years ago.

Of course, I was not the only one changed that day. My husband found the role he was meant to play as hands-on partner and loving dad. I never had a loving father figure in my life and one of my greatest joys has been to bear witness to the great relationship and friendship between the two people I love most.

My husband never forgets what the day means for me. Every year on our son's birthday, he gives me a small bouquet of flowers.

Men: give your wives flowers on your children's birthdays. And teach your sons to do this for their mothers and, eventually, their own wives.

But like I said, the day was not about me. It came and went in a blink, much like the years themselves. The baby born that day is now a teen. The earliest days of his life are ones he will never remember.

And they are the days I will never forget.

20 years

Note: If you've landed here from Pinterest, welcome! You'll find the 20 Things I Love About You pin info here. For newer blog postings, check out the Home tab. Thanks for visiting! - LM

"Grow old along with me! The best is yet to be ..."

That's from the poem Rabbi Ben Ezra by Robert Browning. I had that printed on my wedding program. Today is the 20th anniversary of that wedding. As I mentioned in a previous post, this year is kind of a big deal for us.

And it kind of isn't.

We celebrate a lot of silly, fun things (yes, Christmas in July is one of those things), but we generally don't make a fuss about our wedding anniversary. Usually it's just dinner out and sometimes, it's all three of us, kid included - not even a proper date. He brings me flowers. We exchange cards.

We would just rather hang out together than go to a lot of fuss. We are happy to just be together.

After 20 years, that's pretty good.

In fact, we decided this year we wouldn't even exchange gifts. Hubs would be working in the evening, so there wouldn't even be a date. He'd meet me at my office and we'd have lunch. That would be it.

I assumed he'd bring me flowers - he always does - and so I thought I would break the no-gifts agreement just a little and surprise him with a gesture of some sort. It had to be simple and inexpensive.

Here's what I came up with:

A bucket.

More specifically, a bucket filled with 20 Things I Love About You.

20 Things I Love About You 20th anniversary gift bucket.

Instead of a card, I wrote him a letter, explaining that I loved him in a million ways (true), but that, in observance of our 20th wedding anniversary, I would list only 20. I really thought about who he is and how much I appreciate him - and the things he does for me and for us as a family. And then, I hit the dollar bins and picked up little items he would actually use. I tagged them based on the list and put them all in a bucket (simply because it's another thing he will use).

Here's my list (in no particular order):

• You're a good kisser - Chapstick (he steals mine)
• Your face still lights up when I walk in the room - flashlight
• You wipe my tears - travel pack of tissues for his car
• You always know when the cookies are done - spatula (he never, ever burns cookies)
• You make things brighter - paint brushes
• You're smart - Smarties candies
• You stuck with it, even when we were just scraping by - electrical tape and ice scraper
• Your love keeps me going - batteries (for the flashlight)
• You do your share - cleaning sponge
• You're handy - work gloves
• You sew on my buttons - mini sewing kit
• You're handsome - a hand mirror (he was using what was basically a jagged shard of glass as mirror)
• You're kind to animals - treats for our pets
• You have a nice smile - floss (again, steals mine)
• You're nutty - peanuts
• Your faith holds the family together - Super Glue
• You're level-headed - a level
• You're a good dad - wallet-sized photo of our son and him
• You're sweet - mint M&Ms (his favorite)
• We're a good match - box of matches

You get the idea.

He was genuinely moved by the gesture and just loved the surprise, cracking up at the bucket stuff and the correlation to the list.  He admired my creativity and appreciated the thought, time and effort I put into it. Plus, he really dug all the goodies. (Another level? Yes, please!)

Let's face it, folks: I rock.

He gave me roses, as expected. There were 20 red ones, representing the 20 years of our marriage, plus five white ones for the years we dated. Just gorgeous and they made my office smell incredible.

And then he handed me a simple, dainty diamond anniversary band.

That? Not expected.

So let's recap: 

• He gave me diamonds.
• And I gave him ... a bucket.

Look, marriage is like that: it's give and take - and not always an even give and take. Still, it really is the thought that counts. A thoughtful gesture can let the person we care about know he or she is understood, special and loved.

And another thing about marriage: just when you think you've got a person all figured out, he can surprise you in the biggest way, and make you wonder what other tricks he has up his sleeve.

"The best is yet to be ..."

Indeed.

Christmas in July

Happy Christmas in July!

No, seriously ... Christmas in July. We celebrate this. It's a real thing at our house.

Now, don't get me wrong: I hate Christmas creep - the way retailers act like Thanksgiving doesn't exist and inundate me with Christmas the day after Halloween (if even that long). Last year, a local radio station started playing Christmas songs 24/7 the week after Halloween. I adore Christmas music and appreciate it outside of the holiday ... but not 24/7 while I've still got a jack-o-lantern rotting on my doorstep.

[Note: craft stores are exempt from my wrath because people who make Christmas crafts, gifts and decor items can't start that stuff on Black Friday. It takes time, and so I get why those retailers have holiday stuff out already. And I admire crafty people who give gifts from their hearts and hands.]

No, our Christmas in July (or CiJ) is just an evening - a couple of hours really - carved out on July 25, not so much because of its coincidence with December 25, but because we wanted to do something in July, yet not tread upon the observation of Independence Day (the way marketers force real Christmas to do to Thanksgiving).

And so, several years ago, when our son was little, we started celebrating CiJ.

Why?

"I will honor Christmas in my heart and try to keep it all year," - Charles Dickens' Scrooge, from A Christmas Carol.

• We wanted to revisit the lessons of hope, renewal and forgiveness that Christ brought to the world.
• We wanted to remind our child to practice good cheer, charity and benevolence all the year through.
• We wanted to celebrate without the pressure, stress, materialism and expense of the big holiday. 
• Christmas can be fun and we wanted to have fun more than once a year.

Here's what we do to celebrate:

We don't deck our halls, per say, but we do bring out a small artificial tree that has seen many Christmases and dress it up a bit for the (off) season..

 The treats seem so much sweeter when savored without the deluge of so many other Christmas candies and cookies competing for the right to shrink my jeans before Jan. 1.

Mint chocolate chip cookies. They are yummy, yummy. Recipe here.

We watch a favorite holiday movie for CiJ. Instead of sitting around the house during the real Christmas season watching films where the characters are celebrating Christmas, we try to switch off the TV as much as we can and get out and actually make some holiday memories of our own. Still, you gotta love a good Christmas movie, no matter what time of year.

Cotton-headed ninny-muggins.

We do give gifts. This is not a retail frenzy, folks. We wrap up modest gifts in Christmas paper and get to tear it off. It's fun and I am not going to get all high-horse and act like it's not. Lest you think me terribly materialist, I will say that tonight we gave our son a gift card, two new shirts and school supplies (school starts next week). So, it's fun ... but not that fun.

A mini tree adorned with sunflowers and skirted in a beach towel, candle glow instead of a roaring fire, and modest gifts of little necessities wrapped in festive paper strike the right balance of Christmas ... but in July.

We'll often prep a CiJ feast of grilled burgers and corn on the cob with a garden tomato or two, and dine to holiday music. Our busy back-to-school activities tonight prevented that. But it's okay. Because even though CiJ is coming to an end, it doesn't mean we can't toss in Michael Buble's Christmas any other day and sing along to his adorably peppy little ditty Holly Jolly Christmas.

Because, as Buddy the Elf says, "The best way to spread Christmas cheer is signing loud for all to hear" ... even in July.

It started with a kiss

This is a landmark year for my husband and me. In October, we will celebrate our 20th wedding anniversary. But even before that - in just a couple of days, on July 1 - we will mark the 25-year anniversary of our very first kiss. We consider that the beginning of it all.

Take a minute to look back: July 1, 1988. That was a long time ago. He was 18 and I was several months older at 19. Just kids, really. The local radio stations had Def Leppard's Pour Some Sugar on Me (ah, sweet poetry) on constant rotation, though Cheap Trick's The Flame was the number-one song that week. Big was in theaters; Coming to America was just released.

That summer, young folks were wearing acid-washed jeans. Mullets were at their peak (they have peaked, by the way ... so um, if you or someone you love still has one, please remove it). Girls had curly perms, big bangs and bad Sun In highlights.

And I had met a boy.

By late June, we had become good friends. He was painfully shy and I ... wasn't. So on that particular summer night, the first of July, when I'd had a hard time reading him or understanding his intentions, I just flatly asked him more out of curiosity than anything, "Are you going to kiss me tonight?"

"Maybe," he said.

Spoiler alert: He did.

We were opposites personality-wise, and we really didn't have a lot in common. But I made him laugh and he made me feel peaceful. We started dating and, well, a quarter of a century later, here we are: still balancing, complementing ... yes, completing ... one another.

We don't really "celebrate" this anniversary anymore. We'll just kind of take note on Monday, "Oh yeah. That's right." We'll smile about it and move on with our days. In October, we will celebrate our wedding anniversary in some way, even if it's just dinner out together.

Still, it's worth pausing to remember that the little things - a kiss, for example - can have the biggest impact.

And change everything.