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!

It's ok

Thanksgiving is gone. Was it ever really here? Seems it was just Halloween and then magically - commercially, at least - Christmas.

Still, there is much for which to be thankful. In fact, I always feel thankful, no matter what the season. When asked to describe myself in one word, I always respond with, "grateful." Thanksgiving is the official holiday of gratitude, but for me, my level of appreciation soars at Christmas.

So, as we make that transition from autumn toward winter, harvest to Advent, Thanksgiving to Christmas - I find myself feeling ... eh, kind of meh about it all.

That's not like me.

I love Christmas. It tickles my heart: the music, the cheery decor and the long, cozy nights. I like the challenge of finding gifts and treats for the special people in my life, and the thrill of making it happen within a reasonable budget. I feel good about sharing with others; reaching out to those who could use a hand.

I anticipate the Christmas season just like a child, counting down the days, savoring the wait. To me, Christmas is all the superficial things like twinkle lights and beautifully wrapped presents and 4,000 versions of Jingle Bell Rock on the radio - and it's also so much more. It becomes a manifestation of my grateful heart, truly a season of renewal and hope.

And as I get ready to flip the calendar to its last page, I find myself feeling ... empty.

Is it ok to not feel excited about the Christmas season yet?

Is it ok to feel that way and not understand why?

Is it ok to go through the motions - decorating, treat making, shopping - in hopes that joy will eventually bubble up and gush forth like it usually does much sooner than now?

Is it ok to be like this?

Yes. It's ok.

No matter what the calendar says, or how many poorly executed Hallmark Channel movies are on constant rotation, or how many tired standards the radio stations play ad nauseam, or how many better-than-Black-Friday sales the retailers push, the truth, for me at least, is that Christmas is a matter of heart.

And it's ok if my heart isn't feeling it yet.

At first, I felt a little worried - what's wrong with me? - that perhaps my lack of Christmas spirit meant a lack of gratitude. It's a slippery slope once we start taking the blessings in our lives for granted. Truth is, there's so much pressure from all around to love, love, love Christmas at the very first available moment. It's the freaking most wonderful time of the year, and that time of the year begins earlier and earlier ... and the weight of getting on board with that can leave a soul feeling hollow.

So I've decided it's ok. It's ok to not have the spirit yet. It's ok to be just be how I am in the moment because I know moments like these will pass.

And there's still time for the spirit to arrive, and it's ok to wait for it to come to me instead of me grasping for it.

Heck, it's not even December yet.

A little joy

Merry Christmas!

Homemade ornaments are my favorite.

I am ready for the holiday hustle to wind down now and the actual celebrating - the joy - to commence. What's done is done ... and if it isn't by now, then it's just not getting done. It's been fun getting it all together; really, it has. But that's been the prep and now is launch.

And I hope your Christmas is a blast.

I am looking forward to a little more focus in the coming hours and days: on family, friends, blessings. I've been trying to multitask lately and it has not gone well.

Not at all.

For example, a couple of weeks ago, I accidentally parked in a handicap-designated spot at the local pharmacy. There was no sign and snow still covered the ground, hiding the symbol painted on the blacktop. I didn't even notice until I came out of the store and realized the spacing seemed too generous for a regular spot. There were plenty of other designated spots, but I felt terrible for the mistake, made in my hurried state while running errands.

A couple of days later, I dropped my keys while walking in the parking lot of another retailer. I was rifling through my purse for the next stop's list and not paying attention when my keys went flying out of hand. I bent over to pick them up and bashed my head on the bumper of a car ... parked in a handicap spot.

Karma - 1; Lorri - 0.

Last week, I had a mean case of a 24-hour virus that was probably the result of hurried hand washing while out shopping. Ug. That warning light that flashed in the car and I hoped was just, you know, nothing serious, because I didn't have time to deal with it? It wasn't nothing. It was $613 worth of something.

The other day, I accidentally sent a "luv u" text meant for my husband to someone who was, in fact, not my husband. I had multiple messages in play and was also making homemade caramel. The result? Awkward, with a side of unintentionally creepy.

Today, I was sitting in the drive-thru at McDonald's waiting for the prompt to take my order, while counting out exact change (I'm an exact-change kind of girl) and messing with the car's clock. The prompt came and I ordered my usual, a large Diet Coke ... only I didn't say Coke. I said a word that begins with C and rhymes with clock.

[I'll give you a moment]

Yep, that's what I said: a large Diet ----.

So anyway ...

I hope you are able to savor the best moments of Christmas, with your focus on the greatest gift of all: love.

Merry and bright

White shirt boxes ... can they breed? 

Yes, I mean breed - as in, make more white shirt boxes. Chicka-waa-waa. As in, when a mommy white shirt box and a daddy white shirt box love each other very much ... and they are stowed away in a super secret hiding place (aka my bedroom closet) ... and I thought I had already wrapped all gifts in the white shirt boxes ...

Then I found more. Like a small litter of white shirt boxes containing gifts that still needed to be wrapped.

I had overlooked a stash of gifts. I'm glad I found them, but was disappointed to realize I didn't quite have this whole Christmas thing managed as well as I should.

It's times like this when Christmas can feel like it's getting out of hand.

Don't judge me, ribbon-stalking cat.

One of the reasons I've not been able to keep up with the more task-centered aspects of the holiday is that I have been getting out and experiencing the holiday: enjoying festive parties and laughter with friends; reveling in glorious musical performances; spending quiet time admiring the tree lights; focusing on the true meaning and origin of it all during Advent services and through community outreach.

So I may have let the task-centered side slide a bit more this year than usual. But hey - if something gets shoved in a gift bag instead of beautifully wrapped and packaged (I shudder at the thought of it as I type), then so be it.

Many times, our traditions become chores. Our invitations turn to obligations. We try to do too much and, in a blur of activity, fail to stop and truly feel the magic. Or, conversely, we take in the holiday from a spectator's seat through TV movies and DVDs (all of which I love, by the way), but there comes a point where you have to turn off the Hallmark Channel, get off the couch and be the star of your own memories.

The season serves up a lot. And maybe we try to do too much because a lot of it is so fun - or at least we think it should be fun. Truth is, it can be overwhelming and suck the wonderful right out of this time of year.

And let's face it: Christmas doesn't come easily to all. Hearts are broken; bodies need mending; hope is fleeting; worries mount. These things don't take a Christmas break.

Christmas? It comes anyway. At its core - without radio stations blasting 24/7, glitzy commercials, cookies, packages, cards, glitter, parties, plays, the last freaking piece of tape, ornaments, unwrapped fertile white shirt boxes - it is a reminder of  something simple, yet profound: hope; a fresh start. Renewal.

But the angel said to them, 'Do not be afraid. I bring you good news that will cause great joy for all the people. Today in the town of David, a savior has been born to you; he is the Messiah, the Lord.' - Luke 2:10-11.

And so I will tackle what I can this season and enjoy all that I choose. I will strive to be a help to those who need me. I will open my heart to the spirit of hope offered freely this time of year.

In doing so, I know I am truly making these precious days merry and bright.

A snow day

"When I no longer thrill to the first snow of the season, I'll know I'm growing old." Lady Bird Johnson

With Lady Bird's logic, I can declare myself still of a youthful spirit.

It snowed here Friday, beginning first as freezing rain - dreadful, dangerous ice - and ending as a soft blanket of white. Huge, billowy flakes swirled like tufts of cotton, plucked and tossed from Heaven.

Remember snow days when you were a kid? I would sit with rapt attention, listening to the local AM radio station's mix of tinny-sounding hits from the likes of Sonny and Cher interspersed with rather poorly produced commercials for Main Street businesses ... just waiting for - oh, wait, did the DJ just say it? Yes! No school today!

And back to bed I would go.

Nowadays, it's less dramatic: the automated call came shortly after 5 a.m. Friday from the assistant superintendent. I was awake anyway, doing my own assessment of the weather and deciding whether I would venture out into it for the day. No school, he said. I didn't even bother to wake my son. Instead, I logged in and worked from home. My husband was off work that day and so we were settled in for whatever Mother Nature dished out.

It wasn't officially a snow day for me, but I still enjoyed watching the weather take its turn from the comfort of my warm home, with everyone safely under the same roof.

I had picked up a few groceries the night before amid the utter madness at the grocery store. Empty shelves and long lines. What is this magical concoction people make out of bread and milk in the face of a snowstorm?

Me? I went in for beer and toilet paper, the true necessities if you are snowed in.

When the snow came Friday afternoon and into the evening, I cooked a big pasta meal and made sweet snacks. Content with full bellies, we watched the snow come down and lend a lustrous glow to the outside Christmas lights.

Saturday, we slept in and shook off any cabin fever by running errands once the roads had cleared. Early this morning, we were reminded to take it slow again, thanks to a round of freezing rain and sleet. A lazy Sunday of napping and football viewing ensued. Tonight, a cozy fire crackles.

Tomorrow will bring us back to reality: the hum and rhythm of work and school will resume, while the fevered countdown to Christmas buzzes about.

For the rest of the evening, however, I will savor the slowed pace the last few days have brought me ... all thanks to that first magical snow day.