Sad Day

Every breakup party I have attended since high school wouldn't have been the same without Heath.

Whoop!

Texas Aggies- 38
t.u.- 30

Wake Up

Mr. Darcy famously observed that every personality has a tendency to certain evils. One of mine is a tendency to be boring. It's easier to stay home and watch a movie than to think up an exciting outing. It's easier to say "no" to a risky proposal than to try it out. It's easier to order what I know I like than to try something new. Usually I coast along in my status-quo life, but occasionally I take some uncharacteristic initiative to try something new. This weekend was one such time.

My sister Laurashmaura played college basketball. My brother Alan was an all-star football player in high school. My sister Leslie is a cheerleader, which she claims is sport enough to qualify her as an athlete. I am commonly regarded as the family scholar, on a nice day, or else I'm the family couch potato. So when Stephen and I went out to the lake with my family last Saturday, I didn't even bother to wear my swimsuit, as I had no intention of getting my hair wet.

Laurashmaura and her friend Jayna took some turns tearing it up on the wakeboard. After they finished, dripping all over the boat in all their glory, I started to feel twinges of interest. "Next time we go out, I think I'll try that," I offered, imagining this blessed event to be next summer. The family was surprised but encouraged me. And so, to make a long story short, I jumped into the water in my tank top and shorts to try out the wakeboard for myself.

It was so fun! No one thought to take a picture of my proud accomplishment, so I've searched the internet to find a substitute picture that documents what I must have looked like:

Now of course, the down side is that no activity short of a car accident could have prepared my muscles for this kind of use. Today I wish I could have called in sick and laid on the bed with my whole body in traction. But it was worth it to be wicked cool for twenty minutes.

Hello, Big City!

Our move went smoothly and we're now official city folk again. Thanks to all of our friends and family who helped us with the move.

I've been very rudely single-minded for the past three days and we're basically unpacked. I have a couple of organizing projects left and I need to hang wall art and curtains, but other than that I'm finished! We're leaving the Moores' tomorrow and so we'll get to move into a clean and neat new home.

When Are We Having a Baby?

The Baby Question seems to have come up a lot lately, since we are young (but not too young) and have now managed to stay married for two years, it seems like the natural next step in most people's minds. Certain members of my family are now especially interested in this question as they now have a financial stake in the answer (ahem, ahem, Watsons...).

I've been pondering the Question some myself, and I feel very strong pulls in contradicting directions. One one hand, I'd like to wait. Although I never thought I'd think this way, I actually am enjoying my full-time job and I don't feel ready to give it up, which I would want to do if we had a baby. I feel like I'm just hitting stride as a fourth grade teacher, and I hate the idea of quitting just as I've learned how to do my job well. Also, my ambitions at LO have not even come close to running their course. I'd like to gain enough clout there so that I can stay involved in committees and decision making even after I've gone to working part time.

Also, as you know from previous posts, we're in major limbo from Stephen's perspective, and we're looking seriously at the idea of him going back to school for a couple of years. It seems like a less-than-responsible decision to choose to have a baby at a time when neither one of us could devote our time to bread-winning OR staying home with Junior. It would be possible, but less than ideal.

On the other hand, I love the idea of having a baby. Many of my other young married friends are thinking about getting pregnant or have already had babies, and I hate missing out on the bandwagon. I'd like it if I had kids at the same time as my friends, so we could do play dates and our kids could be in the same school grade and could grow up and marry each other. I love hanging out with my little nieces and nephews, and I enjoy the babies of my friends. I've really had Baby Fever since I was about thirteen, and now that I'm good and twenty-five it seems like surely I've waited long enough. Not to mention, I would like four kids, and unless I can be really efficient and have twins, I need to get going or I'll be too old for the last one.

On top of all of my mental confusion, there is the very inconvenient fact that often bodies don't cooperate with the deadlines that are set for them. Some people get pregnant before they mean to. Some people don't get pregnant right away, even if it is time according to The Plan. So even if I had a set date in mind, there's no guarantee.

So...here is your answer: I DON'T KNOW. I'll tell you when the test is positive, and nothing before then. No speculating!

Questions, lighthearted and otherwise

When I used to work in the big high school, one of the recurring conversations that would come up over lunch in the English teachers' work room was, "If you were going to have a career other than teaching, what would you do?" Answers varied: "novelist," "art dealer," "comedian," "chef;" basically, a list that was as realistic as the career ambitions of our delusional students on the other side of the self-locking door. It always struck me as sort of amusing that all these women had such a ready answer; I guess sometimes daydreams of another life were the only thing that could give them the strength to go on.

Well, I found myself thinking through the same question, though, as the year wore on and the hellish start to my long-planned-for career never improved. By mid-spring, I had decided that I hated teaching and would not, for any amount of money, set foot in the classroom again after my contract was up. It was a very disconcerting thought, because since I was in first grade teaching had been my career ambition. I had never seriously considered doing anything else, and I certainly was minimally qualified for any other job, despite what my academic advisor in the English department promised.

When I moved to Waco, I pursued a job as a secretary. They were all at Baylor, and most of them included some amount of writing and/or editing, which I thought sounded do-able, and not too demeaning. Plus, I was attracted to the idea of a "professional" job- the smart business attire, a cubicle desk to call my own, phone calls from one brilliant scholar to another.

Due to some unexpected turns in my job search, my quest for a job as an administrative assistant ended when I accepted a position as a fourth grade teacher at Live Oak. So, for all my exploring, I ended up in the same career that I had started with, although in an extremely different context.

Recently in my home, the question of "What would you do if you had to pursue another career?" has been a topic of discussion yet again. This time, it's Stephen on the hot seat. Due to a variety of reasons, we've been tossing around lots of options about what sort of path we might take next. And, while this is fun conversation around a lunch table among people who are firmly entrenched in their actual careers, this topic can be very unnerving when you really mean it. And it brings up a lot of scary questions: What would he do? How do we know when to pursue this? How do we know our motivations are right? Could we really do this?

Stephen asked me two weeks ago, on our two year anniversary, where I saw us in another two years. I had to answer honestly, "I have no idea." We're at a significant crossroads with no clear answer. God only knows where we're going. We're going one day at a time, not always because of great faith, but because that's all we can do!

Who Needs Scrapbooking?

Stephen and I recently resolved to be more diligent about keeping up with our finances. Last weekend, we sat down with a year's worth of bank statements, checkbook registers, and credit card bills. Carefully we reviewed each one to track our spending habits and also to find places where our checkbook register did not match the bank's records.

The whole project took about three hours, and it was a great trip down memory lane. Typical conversations looked like this:

Stephen: "July '06 was a big month. Here is our check to the mortgage company for our new house...and, oh, look...my first paycheck from the HOP."

Lindsey: "This statement says we spent $XX dollars at Lowe's last September. What was that for?"
Stephen: "Remember? That was when we bought our new refrigerator."
Lindsey: "Oh, yeah...the old one was making those terrible noises."

Lindsey: "Hey, a bunch of charges in DFW. This was the time that we went to Hurricane Harbor with Josh and Abbey."
Stephen: "And mine has our charges from the day we spent with Cliff and Teresa at the zoo."
Stephen and Lindsey: (reflectively) "Those were fun days..."

So you see? This was much more fun than looking at unflattering photos of myself in various locations, and the preservation of these memories was as quick as the time it took to swipe the Mastercard or write a check. Let the fun times continue!

Yay Vacay

It was summertime. The Texas sun was hot as usual, and the air was filled with the sounds of happy children enjoying their long break from school. As kids and moms visited museums and built ships-in-bottles, and teachers caught up on their sleep on poolside lounge chairs, those people left in the working world found it hard to get excited about their office cubicles and project deadlines.

Lindsey was a teacher, but she really wanted to be productive with her time off. Karen was a freelance graphic designer, and she enjoyed the freedom of being able to work anywhere where she had her computer. The girls agreed to meet at Starbucks, so they could enjoy expensive coffee and free wireless internet while they encouraged one another in their productivity.

Of course, one can't work online until one has already checked all of one's friends' blogs for any new posts. The girls noticed a trend in their pre-work reading: Jill had posted pictures of the beautiful beach in Cancun where she was going to vacation. Lydia posted pictures of the beautiful waterfall that she would explore with Teresa on their camping trip. MAB posted fun details of her extended stay in the city. (And even though she doesn't have a blog, they also knew that their friend Brandy was going to California and Hawaii in July.)

"Wow, it seems like everyone is going on vacation this summer!" remarked Karen.

"I know." agreed Lindsey. "Lucky." (She always tries not to sound too much like the whining Napoleon Dynamite when she says this.)

"Hey...what if we go on our own vacation?" Karen suggested.

The idea sounded like tons of fun to Lindsey. Since Lindsey and Karen are both dutiful and submissive wives, they called their husbands first to make sure they would approve of such a venture, which of course they did.

A few clicks of the mouse later, a plan was in effect. Karen helpfully made all the phone calls, and now they are looking forward to a long weekend away from home at this beach:

(It's Corpus Christi...the most beautiful and affordable beach within reasonable driving distance!)

A New Dang Post

Following a one-day break for Memorial Day, school life has not slowed down since the kids were released. We have been doing a two-week training for a new language arts curriculum that we have been teaching. Class has met from 8 AM-1 PM every day, and we have had homework to complete in the afternoons. We have also been having endless "debriefing" meetings and doing end-of-year projects like moving classrooms and creating curriculum maps and plans for next year.

I have also been attending my exercise class regularly, and I am very excited to announce that I touched my own toes during our flexibility exercises this week. Hooray!

We took the final exam in our Spalding class today, so that is over, which also means that I no longer have an excuse to be in town every day. Regular blog posting should be resuming in the next couple of days. I hope that you have not all given up on checking in here!

Watty's Wild Underwater Interstate Adventure, Part 2

continued from yesterday...

So I set out on the highway, driving slowly and carefully but very pleased with the road conditions. It is still raining, and the roads are certainly soggy, but there are no river rapids to ford, so I drive peacefully.

Just on the other side of West, I notice traffic slowing down. I can't see far enough ahead to see what is causing the delay, but it is definitely a bona fide traffic jam. I sit back in my seat and a little worriedly watch the cloudy sky darken into night. I call Stephen, who is waiting in Hillsboro to report my slowed progress.

8:30. It is dark, and to call the traffic "slow-moving" is generous. Every ten minutes or so, I might get to take my foot off the brake and move forward a couple of feet, but this is not a great consolation. The local weatherman breaks into regular programming with a news bulletin. "Traffic backed up for 8-10 miles on northbound Interstate 35. Avoid at all costs! Repeat, do not attempt to drive north on I-35." Thanks a lot.

Now as you may know, I tend to worry about morbid and tragic events happening to me. I begin to imagine how vulnerable I am, sitting here in the middle of nowhere on a dark night, hemmed in on all sides by traffic and flooded ditches. I picture carjackers and molesters coming out from underneath my car and bashing in my windows. What finally distracts me from that possible threat is a much more immediate concern: I now have to go to the bathroom. Dang it!

9:00- I have been avoiding talking on my cell phone because of the hazardous road conditions, but I figured I am safe enough now, since my car is in park. I call my sister to distract myself from my worries, real and imaginary, and we talk for 30 minutes, until she is ready for bed and I begin to worry about killing my phone battery. I am excited because I get to inch forward and I can see a sign for an exit 1/4 of a mile ahead. It is a country road I have never heard of.

9:45- At this point, most cars around me have shut off their engines. People are beginning to mill around in the road (I'm keeping a close eye on them all). Several cars nearby seem to have been caravaning, and the occupants of the cars get out, pull snack food from the trunks, and begin having a tailgate party. A man in the car behind me walks to the grassy median beside the right-hand shoulder and proceeds to take a leak. Lucky! The empty plastic cup that I used for breakfast is looking tempting for my own needs.

I stay in contact with Stephen. We're both worried about dying cell phones, but we check in periodically. He is talking to his parents and brother, who are watching local news and confirming that traffic situation is bad. I-35 has been temporarily shut down just ahead of me. I turn my own engine off and try to enjoy John Tesh's intelligence for my life on the radio, as I can't take any more of the ranting late-night talk shows. I learn that women are more comfortable with talking face-to-face, and that men prefer to stand next to each other and talk sideways. I fight sleepiness.

10:50- Traffic begins to move! I finally drive away from the county road exit sign. For the first time in almost three hours, I can accelerate to more than 10 mph. I call Stephen to let him know I am moving again. I have clearly woken him up.

11:02- Traffic stops again. I think that I am now close to whatever it was that caused the delay in the first place. I can't tell much of anything.

11:20- Traffic is slow, but moving steadily now. I begin seeing signs for Hillsboro, and I begin to feel joyful.

11:30- A roadside sign makes me want to go postal. "WARNING: SLOW TRAFFIC AHEAD. 40 MPH."

11:40- I pull into the parking lot where Stephen is waiting. The store has closed, so he is sleeping in his car. There are no signs of life. I wake him up and we drive toward home. It's a country road, so I drive very slow, but the way is passable. Judging by the way the lights reflect off of my surroundings, I can tell that there are fields that are entirely under water. But my road is not, so I am happy.

12:30- Arrive at home. The dogs are happy to be let in. I take the world's fastest shower and get to bed at 1:30.

The End.

Watty's Wild Underwater Interstate Adventure, Part 1

It was 6 PM on a typical Thursday. KarenD and I had just finished aerobics class and I was looking forward to hurrying home and getting to bed early. Dinner was sounding better by the minute, also, as all I had consumed that day was some breakfast yogurt, a Starbucks mocha, a granola bar, and four Saltines. I planned to cook when I got home, but to stave off my dizzying hunger pains, I stopped in at my favorite Skinny's gas station to pick up some water and peanuts. As the weather was cloudy but rain was barely sprinkling, I barely even paid attention to the National Weather Service bulletins on the radio announcing thunderstorm warnings and alerting the public of the fact that motorists account for almost all flash flood deaths.

Snacking on my peanuts, I set off down the country road that would take me home. The rain was falling steadily now, and I noticed with some concern that the drainage ditches were getting pretty full of water. A little further down, I crossed a dip where water was spilling across the road. I was part of a great caravan of cars, so I kept an eye on the vehicles in front of me as we drove into worsening conditions. I began to hit panic mode when the water was rushing across the road fast enough to have developed rapids. About halfway to my house, I was stopped by a volunteer fireman who told me the rest of the road was closed. Somewhat relieved, I turned around and drove back through a couple of rapid water crossings. But before I got very far, I was stopped again. The road was also closed going back into Waco.

I rolled down my window and shouted through the downpour at the fireman directing traffic. "How can I get back to Waco?" He pointed at a small farm to market road and gave me complicated directions, which of course I did not retain in my memory. This new route turned out to be just as treacherous as the road I had just been turned away from. The weather bulletins had my full attention now, and I began to cry as I imagined myself being swept away to my death by the muddy water. Apparently I am not as reconciled to the idea of my own demise as I might have guessed, as my tears quickly escalated into a full fledged panic attack. I began to hyperventilate, and at one point even slowed to a stop on the side of the road because of dizziness. But the rain kept falling, and I tried to force myself to calm down. As I resumed driving, I recited all of the Bible verses and sang all the hymns I could think of. (If you've ever seen the original Little House movie, and remember the scene where Caroline thinks that Indians are attacking while Charles is gone, and she sings to comfort herself as she sits in her rocking chair holding the shotgun, you can imagine what I sounded like.)

Approximately an hour and half later, I was back in Waco, and I called Stephen from the safety of the Beatnix parking lot. I asked him what I should do. I did not want to spend the night in Waco, because I did not have any clean clothes or makeup with me, and the next day was Grandparents Day at school. But I was also terrified to try to drive home another way in case I ran into similar difficulties.

Stephen assured me that my safest bet was to try to drive up I-35 to Hillsboro. Since I was afraid of the condition of the country road that would take me home from Hillsboro, Stephen agreed to start driving that direction from our house, and promised to call me and tell me to turn around if the road ended up being impassable. He was going to put the dinner he so kindly cooked for me into the fridge, lock up the dogs, and get on the road. I was to carefully make my way north from Waco, and we planned to meet at the Hillsboro Starbucks in about an hour.

This post is getting long and my allotted time for recreational writing is up. Stay tuned for Part II of Watty's Underwater Interstate Adventure, which will hopefully be posted tomorrow. I have disabled comments so that if you already know the ending of this story, you can't spoil it for everybody else.

The 100th Post: the Josh Report

The first time I went to see Josh Groban, I was overwhelmed not only by his swoony voice, which is just as magnificent in person as it is on the CD, but also by his rather awkward and...okay, dorky...sense of humor. He seemed very much like a regular guy who had not yet mastered the art of stage presence. He talked too fast, used a circus-announcer voice to introduce his band members, and his expressions and jokes, which might have been funny among close friends at summer camp, fell very flat.

Last night I attended my second Josh concert at the American Airlines Center in Dallas. He sang a lot of new songs from his AWAKE CD, which I happen to really love, so I was happy. And here was the shocking news: he was funny! There was still a hint of dorkiness about him, but I almost didn't notice it because I was so busy laughing with him, not at him.

I was actually a little disappointed. I had been looking forward to talented-yet-awkward Josh. This was just a smooth guy with a great voice. What a letdown...until...

...there was a long instrumental song where Josh disappeared for a few minutes, and then he showed back up onstage wearing a long sleeved t-shirt and a black vest. Not the cool puffy kind, or a sporty fleece kind, but a regular old, suede-y black vest with a cinching clasp in the back. It was completely uncool!

It took me a while to pinpoint why this was so important to me. Here's my hypothesis: It is much more fun to be a fan of a person who seems to be genuinely likeable, the kind of person who would be fun to chat with at Starbucks. If Josh Groban had the voice of an angel and was also a debonair conversationalist, he would be absolutely unapproachable. If he was all of these things and arrogant on top of it, no one would want to approach him anyway.

I probably say this because I'm a little bit of a dork myself, but Josh Groban's awkwardness is part of his appeal. It makes him seem like a normal person. If we were ever hanging out and singing, he he would be much more awesome than me. But then, I could answer, "Well, maybe I can't sing, but at least I'm not wearing a suede vest," and then we'd be even.

So, anyway. The concert report is that we had an incredible time, and it was entirely worth getting in late on a work night. And if Josh Groban ever did invite me to be his friend, it would still be cool with me.

Road Hog

I have a particular area of giftedness in determining the maximum safe speed for a given road, taking into consideration the weather, road conditions, posted legal limit, and freqency of law enforcement patrols. Therefore, the maxim that some quote as a joke is actually true for me: anyone going slower than me should speed up, and anyone going faster than me is a maniac.

Take, for example, my daily commute to work. For most of the way, the road is a narrow, winding, two-lane highway. The calculations work in this way:

Posted speed limit: 70 mph (+ 9)

Road conditions: no shoulder, frequent sharp turns, possibility of sudden
animal obstacles, limited long-range visibility. (-10)

Police Presence: rare (+ 10)

Conclusion: Safe driving speed for normal driving conditions is between 75-80 mph.

I share my highway with a black truck whose driver does not utilize the same thoughtful planning when it comes to driving speed. Every day he passes me like I am an overized combine. It doesn't matter if the yellow line is solid or dotted, if we are on a curve or a bridge, or if the weather is inclement. This never fails to offend me. (And, regrettably, he will never be caught, because of aforementioned policing of said road.)

One recent morning, I had slowed down to the low end of the maximum safe speed for my highway, because it was foggy and raining. And I was passed by not only my arch nemesis, the truck, but by a minivan, as well! What I really want is to be given authority to make citizen's arrests in such situations. (The option of making citizen's arrests came up months ago in a heated game of Imaginiff and has fascinated me ever since). I would love to slap a temporary siren atop my SUV and chase down the irresponsible driver and deliver justice.

Instead, justice works in this way: one day I failed to slow down according to the posted speed limits as I entered the great population center of China Spring, and I got slapped with a ticket. I had to make a special trip to a very depressing temporary building/court in the middle of the sticks (I missed it on my first time past it on the road because it looked like a storage building belonging to the gas station next door). There, I found out that the county does not take checks, and so I had to make a special trip to my bank in Waco to get a cashier's check, and then deliver it back to the court trailer.

Today I spent six tedious hours at Ryan's Steakhouse for Defensive Driving. The idea that the six hours of instruction have any redemptive effect for the traffic violaters in attendance is a joke that we all play along with. We the convicted filled in the blanks of our booklets and watched video clips, and the little old lady who runs the whole operation enthusiastically delivered the information, and we all pretended that we were not just there for the certificate of completion at the end. This filled the requisite six hours only because Glenda announced at the beginning of class that she encouraged class members to share their personal driving stories as they became relevant to the topics that we were discussing.

And then, when my penance was finally complete, I sped home. Ha!

Extreme January

One of the joys of non-digital photography is unearthing and developing a long-lost roll of film. It's often a fun and unexpected trip down memory lane (followed always by a resolution to be more faithful to clean the desk drawer, or under the couch cushion, or wherever the stowaway film had been located for all those months...or years). On the rare occasion where I even take a picture, I use my digital camera, and so I never expected the joy of finding forgotten pictures.

Well today I plugged in my camera to unload some of our snow day pictures, and discovered photos from my trip to Florida (most taken by Leslie, which explains why I "forgot" about them so easily).

So here is our hotel, followed by me lounging in the pool:

(I'm lounging, not dead. This weird picture is here to prove how hot it was!)

And, ten days later, back in Texas...

New Year's Non-Post

We have had a great post-holiday week, but we have really been on the run. Not counting sleeping hours, I am pretty sure that I have logged at least twice as many hours in the car as I have in my own home this week. I have actually had several great ideas for blog posts, but I haven't been home long enough to write them out! Now I'm all backed up and about to leave town, and by the time I get around to thinking through these holiday insights, they will be old news. So here you go: all
my thoughts.

1. I am a huge fan of New Year's resolutions. I love the occasion for self-evaluation, and to make promises to myself that I will do better. Obviously, some resolutions stick better than others, but as long as I keep a couple each year, I'm heading in the right direction.

2. One of the things that I admired the most about the musicians at the TSO concert was their complete lack of inhibition. At one point, there was a girl singer on a mini-stage way back in the audience, and she was dancing all by herself, and not even doing a very good job. But she kept at it, even though she was in the spotlight and a thousand eyes were on her. I have always wanted to be a little less self-conscious, and I had my first taste on Christmas Eve. My brother-in-law Tom got a karaoke machine for Christmas, and we had a girls versus boys karaoke competition. I took my turn every round, despite my lack of confidence in my singing, regaling the family with such classics as "Do You Really Want to Hurt Me?," "Smells Like Teen Spirit," and "Crocodile Rock." It was very fun, and the overall success of the game further proved my theory that every human being has a secret desire to be a rock star.

3. I got a temporary promotion at my parking job on Saturday. I got to drive the courtesy golf cart around the parking lot, offering rides to the unfortunate people who got stuck way out in the back lots. It was very fun, and I was much appreciated.

4. When I found out that my charming brother drew my name for my family's sibling gift exchange, I decided not to offer any gift-buying suggestions. Alan has great taste, and knows how to treat a girl, and I wanted to see what he'd come up with. Well, he came through with a gift certificate for a pedicure at a highly-recommended shop in T****e. Mom and I went together, and enjoyed the pampering. But, as usual, our pedicurists chattered away almost the whole time in what I think was Chinese. The last time this happened, Mom asked right out if they are actually talking about customers the whole time, and they basically said yes. "Wouldn't you?" one pointed out. We sat quietly the whole time, trying not to provide the ladies with any fodder for their discussion. Oh wait, I guess this defeats my lose-the-self-consciousness resolution.

5. We've finally joined the rest of the world in iMadness. Stephen bought an iPod with his Christmas money, and I am having lots of fun with it.

6. I got the new Josh Groban CD, and it is excellent. Maybe my favorite so far, even though there are not as many foreign-language songs. Speaking of Josh Groban, I had gotten my heart all set on going to hear him when he came to D****s in March. But when I looked more closely, I learned that the concert is on a Monday night, the week after spring break. Bummer! I'm thinking about going anyway.

7. I'm leaving at 3:45 on Tuesday morning for Florida with my mom, sister, and a bunch of cheerleaders and their moms. I'm looking forward to some fun and relaxing time to read and take naps, and enjoy some quality time with Mom and Leslie. Unless there's unusually good computer access, I won't blog until I come back, and then I will write panicky blogs about how I should have done more school work over the break so that I would be prepared to go back to work! Resolution: stop procrastinating!!

See you all in 2007...

The Second Annual Watson Christmas

Last year was our first Christmas together, and so we were both on our best behavior. This year was much more revealing. Here are some highlights.

1. The Advent season is all about building anticipation for celebrating the birth of Jesus. The enticement of the presents under the tree is supposed to add to that effect as you delay the gratification of opening (or shaking, or peeking into) the packages. We did not do so well on this. We broke down last week, and opened just one (each). Every night since then, the presents have been an elephant in the room. "Want to open them tonight? We're grown-ups. Who can tell us not to?" Stephen persisted for a week, until I broke down after church on Wednesday. So Christmas is over for us until we go to our parents' houses. (Hence, this post)

2. I finally broke down and bought Stephen his first game system since his grade-school Atari. It's a Super Pac-man joystick game that plugs into the TV. Now as I sit here, listening to the blip-blip-blip of Pacman eating the dots and avoiding the ghosts, I'm wondering what sort of beast I have unleashed.

3. Although Stephen enjoys guessing the contents of the packages with his name on them (and consequently, robbing me of all the joy of giving), he does not want me to be able to guess what my presents are. So I opened several packages, only to find the that I had to sort through tissue paper, books off of my own bookshelf, and crap from the junk closet in order to find the actual gift itself.

4. Yes, Callie and Phoebe were included in our celebrations. They each got two rawhide sticks and new ID tags with our new phone number on them. But since they are the children, they are having to wait until closer to Christmas to enjoy their gifts.

5. We have a tradition each year of buying a new ornament for our Christmas tree. This year we are buying our ornaments from Starbucks, since that is where at least half of our discretionary income ended up.

6. The highlight of my end-of-year traditions is buying a new calendar. For the past years, I have bought ones with artistic photographs for each month that I can convert to wall art after the year is over. I now have more wall art than I need, so I got one purely for laughs: its' called "Nuns Having Fun." I've already put it on the wall, which is really throwing Stephen off. I love new calendars. There's so much potential there...who knows what sorts of things I will be writing in by the time we get to November or December of '07?

Christmas Joys

This is my favorite time of year. Here are some reasons why:

1. New Christmas carols, especially "Winter Wonderland" by Jason Mraz, "Manger Throne" by Third Day, and "Christmas is All Around" by a fictional artist named Billy Mack. And, of course, anything by the Trans-Siberian Orchestra.
2. Great friends who offer to take me to hear the TSO in concert this Saturday in Dallas.
3. Old Christmas carols, especially "O Holy Night," O Come, O Come Emmanuel," and "O Come, All Ye Faithful." And "Carol of the Bells" in every variety.
4. Wassail.
5. Beautiful and nutrient-free snacks, and lots of excuses to eat them.
6. The Advent Wreath
7. Christmas cards with pictures in them.
8. Christmas gifts from students.
9. Christmas gifts from everybody else.10. Online shopping.
11. Two and a half weeks off.
12. How clean my house is right before a party, and about an hour after.
13. My tree, finally finished and with gifts underneath.
14. Finding the perfect gift for someone else.
15. Parties with friends.
16. Parties with family.

A few things I don't like about this season, just to keep this from getting too warm and fuzzy:

1. Classic Christmas movies such as "It's a Wonderful Life" and "White Christmas." Yawn!
2. Going back to school after a long break.
3. Standing outside in the sleet parking cars to make some Christmas gift bucks.
4. Saying thank you for gifts that aren't really my style.
5. Still eating leftovers after three days of eating leftovers.
6. Taking down decorations.

Long Arms and Walmart.com to the Rescue!

My one-year-long tradition is to have our Christmas picture taken over the Thanksgiving holiday, when we are with family. My sister Laura is pretty good with a camera, so she gets to be the lucky photographer. However, this year, I got a haircut that I didn't like on the day before family pictures were scheduled. We took about 20 shots, and of course I hated them all.

So we found ourselves somewhat up a creek when the days of December began to tick by and I still didn't have a picture to send out with the Christmas card (not sending one, by the way, was not an option). Since getting my picture taken ranks right up there with buying new sunglasses for showing off my insecure side, and since I respond to this insecurity by becoming somewhat picky and demanding, I didn't want to impose the exasperating task of working the camera upon anyone that was not bound to me by blood.

Meanwhile, time marched on. Finally an solution presented itself in the form of my husband's conveniently long arm. Last night, we got dressed up in our Christmas-card finery , sat in front of the tree, and Stephen proceeded to take the obligatory thirty pictures college-girl style, by stretching out his arm and aiming the camera lens in our direction. So of course, we got a few shots that cut off important parts of our heads, but we got a few winners, too. Next, we bundled up in coats and repeated the scene on the front porch, in front of my celebrated wreath.

I narrowed down the pictures to those that were most flattering of me and let Stephen go through the motions of helping me pick out our official picture. We chose one, and I proceeded to discover the wonders of Wal-Mart's online photo store. In a mere two hours (okay, so the pages are slow to load), I had uploaded my self-cropped and edited photo onto the website, previewed the photo in several decorative card options, and placed my order. I can pick up our cards at the Wal-Mart in nearby H**o next week. Hooray for finished tasks!

Have Myself a Crafty Little Christmas

I have great illusions of being a crafty person, and as I consider myself to be quite creative in other parts of my life, it bothers me that my crafting abilities have not really lived up to my own expectations. By crafty, I mean that I can look at a desirable item in an expensive catalog and then create one myself out of inexpensive objects that are around my home or that are on sale at Hobby Lobby. These projects start out sounding very simple, and seem to be foolproof as I optimistically shop for my supplies. Buy object A, use hot glue to affix it to object B, and voila! Instant frugal beauty.

Unfortunately, my results have been inconsistent. Occasionally a craft will work out to my satisfaction, but usually I end up with junk that is neither decorative nor useful, and which is rendered useless for any future projects because it is covered with hot glue.

I am happy to announce that I may have turned a corner, though. I have attempted THREE projects in the past month, and I am quite happy with all of them. I'm going to share my success with you: friends, family, and blog lurkers.

PROJECT 1: CHRISTMAS WREATH

I needed something outside of the house to make up for the fact that we do not have any Christmas lights (not to worry, our neighbors have enough for the whole street). You can't tell from the picture, but some of the pinks are sparkly and some are shiny.

PROJECT 2: DOGGY STOCKINGS

I realize that this is a controversial topic, but I wanted to have stockings for my dogs. My mother is a talented homemaker who set the stocking bar high by hand-sewing stockings for my entire family. We're talking three-dimensional, sequiny, save-it-for-posterity, stocking fun. I felt guilty for the store-bought stockings that I was hanging for Stephen and I as well as for our little substitute children, so I decided to personalize the dogs' stockings with my own loving touch.

PROJECT 3: Ottoman Tray (non-Christmasy)

When I bought my couches, I believed that the only thing I used my coffee table for was to put my feet on. So instead of buying a coffee table, I bought an ottoman instead. Once it was installed in the living room, I realized that I had also used my coffee table for holding drinks and snacks, and that my ottoman was not the right tool for the job. So I took inspiration from my Better Homes and Gardens, and started looking for a decorative tray to set upon the ottoman as a hard surface. Alas, the only tray that was even close to right was one I found at Marshalls, which had an attractive frame but an ugly design on the tray itself. So I bought the tray and mod-podged sections of the New York Times over the tray. I love the results. If you come over, I will make you admire my handiwork.

I'm stopping now to rest on my laurels. I don't want to push my luck.

3 Weeks, 3 Days

Last Friday, I left school with a spring in my step, leaving the weight of all of my professional obligations behind. I had two days of teacher inservice the week of Thanksgiving, but there is nothing weighty about sitting around with teacher friends, chatting about school as if it were some distant abstraction. I floated through the holiday week, enjoying loafing around my parents' house without a care in the world, pretending to be twenty-one again.

Highlights of Thanksgiving include:
-seeing my grandmother
-shopping in Houston on the day after Thanksgiving
-wearing my sisters' clothes
-mashed potatoes
-Boggle and BB guns with the in-laws
-deer chili with friends
-family pictures
-holiday nails
-no kid tables
-pleasure reading

-pre-Christmas presents

This morning I woke up in my own bed with my usual groan, and I felt the burden of responsibility settle back in. Tomorrow I will have to wake up with the alarm again, and I will have to face a classroom of reluctant scholars. I need to work today to prepare for tomorrow, since Monday seemed too far away to think about the last time I was at school.

After a couple of days, I will settle back into my usual routine and I will get some momentum back, but today is the challenge: putting down the fun book, unpacking the suitcase full of unworn clothes, and planning out the day for the rugrats tomorrow.

It's time to crank up the Trans-Siberian Orchestra and fix my eyes on the Christmas break!