Spoiled Rotten

The fun part’s over.  The shiny delights under the tree have turned into annoying objects in need of homes on the toy shelf – preferably before I break my neck tripping on them.

Sometimes I think Little House On The Prairie Christmases would be lovely.  You know, the ones with an orange, a stick of candy, and knitted mittens wrapped up in brown paper.

Can you imagine what our kids would say about that?

My kids are spoiled.  I never meant to do it but when they complained about fast food and not getting to watch a third DVD on the way to Calgary, I knew it had happened.

My kids aren’t the only ones who are spoiled.  Remember those modern luxuries that became conveniences that are now must-haves?  Microwaves, dishwashers, remote starters, cell phones…

Yeah.  We’re all spoiled and each generation seems to get worse.  But these are advancements that improve our quality of life, we argue.  Yes, most of them do, I suppose.  We are truly blessed.

It wouldn’t be so bad if we understood that we are spoiled (I mean blessed) and appreciate it, but along with this spoiling seems to come an attitude of entitlement and expectations for more.  We’re blessed rotten.

Could we ever return to oranges and mittens?  Even switching back from iPads and Xboxes to jump ropes and LEGO would be a step in the right direction.

Why not try spoiling our kids in other ways – like home-cooked meals, bedtime stories, lots of chores, family camping trips, and saying “no” once in a while?  Ah, yes, time and attention instead of things.  Then our children would be truly blessed instead of spoiled.  They would be whole instead of rotten.  Blessed wholly – as all children should be.

Home For The Holidays

When I was single and living in Calgary, travelling home for the holidays meant an eight-hour journey through the Rockies into British Columbia.

The first year I took this trip, I put my life in my brother’s hands.  He put me in an old Chevy with a leaky radiator.  It was minus twenty-five and we crawled into Nanton just as the car died.  With cardboard in the grill we continued on, detouring around a twenty-one-car pile up, then creeping up and sliding down Kootenay Pass.  We arrived home after midnight, cold and exhausted.

The return trip was even worse.  Kootenay Pass was closed so we had to take the ferry which, due to high winds, was shut down right after we crossed.  Then we found ourselves stuck in a snow bank on a nearly deserted road.  Fortunately, three big guys in a pickup truck lifted us out.  We continued to Fernie where we spent the night trying to get warm.

The next year I took the bus.  It was a holiday-crowded overnighter and my seatmate was a clean lumberjack-look-alike whose legs were too long for the seat.  When I awoke, I apologized for using him as a pillow.  He said, “That’s okay, you can sleep on me anytime.”

You never know what might happen on a bus.  My dad learned this in 1961 when a large, white-haired woman wearing a red coat boarded and the drunks in the back began to sing Here Comes Santa Claus.  Luckily the woman wasn’t offended and the passengers enjoyed the moment.

However you choose to travel this holiday season, I hope you do so safely.  If you drive, why not tuck a shovel, candle, matches, blanket, and extra drinking water in the back seat?

Season’s Greetings, Merry Christmas, and Safe Travels to you and yours!

The Magic of Giving

My first Christmas away from home was spent in Montreal with a roommate from Italy.  We couldn’t be with our families, so on Christmas Day we went to a long-term care facility to feed those who couldn’t feed themselves.  After lunch we went from room to room, visiting, admiring family photos, and singing requested carols.

One woman scared me.  When we went to her room, she hissed with bared teeth and foul breath, “I’m gonna die!”  Fortunately, a friend who was with us knew what to do.  He removed the angel from his lapel and gently pinned it to her nightgown, explaining that this angel would keep her company.  Her face softened and peace filled her eyes.  I marveled at the difference this kind but simple gesture had made to a frightened woman.

Not many days later we found her bed vacant, and I was extra grateful that we had spent some time and shared a little joy with her on Christmas Day.

Subsequent Christmases have come and gone, filled with friends and family, parties and concerts, good food, and plenty of presents.  Still, something about that Christmas in Montreal stands out from the others.  Gifts were few and family was absent, but joy was abundant as I learned that most important lesson:  When we give, we can’t help but receive.

That is the magic of giving.  When we spread love and joy by selflessly giving to others, we feel love and joy in our own hearts.

There are so many ways to give:  donating to a food bank; letting someone ahead of us in line; inviting a widow for dinner; shoveling a neighbour’s driveway; writing to a lonely uncle…  The possibilities are endless...and so is the magic of giving.

Feverishly Fighting the Flu

Flu season is upon us.  I know because a feverish, coughing preschooler climbed into bed with me last night.

Why do fevers get such a bad rap?  I find them helpful – telling me that my child isn’t faking, keeping her in bed where she belongs, and revealing that her immune system is fighting the bug.

It’s the coughing I can’t stand.  Coughing equals sleepless nights, crying, sometimes vomiting, and spreading germs.  Yuck!

The company I worked for in Calgary recognized employees who had perfect attendance.  One woman received the award repeatedly.  This was the same woman who came to work when she was ill, germs oozing from every pore.  Thankfully, corporate eventually cancelled the award and encouraged employees to stay home when unwell.

Five things contribute to me getting sick:  1) Direct contact with germs, 2) Unhealthy eating, 3) Excess stress, 4) Inadequate rest, 5) Getting chilled.  If I have any combination of at least three of these, I’ll get sick.

As a mother of young children who cough (and sneeze and breathe) indiscriminately, it’s difficult to always get enough rest and avoid direct contact with germs.  So, I have to try extra hard in the other areas, like limiting fast food and excess sugar, pacing myself to avoid stress, taking power naps when needed, and dressing warmly when I go out.

We can help our families and communities stay well by washing hands properly (it’s alarming how many don’t do this!), using antibacterial wipes on busy surfaces (like banisters, remotes, and doorknobs), and coughing or sneezing into tissues or elbows.

And for coughing out loud, take a sick day if you need one!

Holiday Traditions or Traps

Last week I suggested that if our To Do lists were making us cranky, we should simplify them.

Easier said than done, I know.

The holidays are filled with traditions.  In fact, isn’t that one of the reasons we especially love this time of year?  As wonderful as traditions are, however, they’re also the leading cause of lengthy To Do lists.

Why do we continue with traditions that no longer fill a need and just make us busy?

My sister, who doesn’t enjoy cooking, spent hours one year preparing and serving a traditional turkey dinner.  Thirty minutes later we finished eating and faced another hour of kitchen clean up.  My sister leaned back in her chair and said, “Next year we’re having pizza.”

As a child, I loved ambrosia salad (fruit, coconut, and mini marshmallows stirred into sour cream) for breakfast on Christmas morning, so I continued this tradition when I had my own family – until I realized that marshmallows hurt my teeth and made my children crazy.

Now, instead of ambrosia, we have a hearty breakfast of eggs and bacon, waffles, and orange juice.  This is a treat we all enjoy and it allows me to prepare just two meals on Christmas instead of three.  It’s a new tradition that works well for us.

Of course, there are traditions that involve more than food, but as we plan our holiday calendars and make our To Do lists this year, let’s ask ourselves:  Is this a worthwhile tradition that’s important to me, or a trap that I’m stuck in?

If the latter, it’s okay to say, “That tradition is done; it’s time for a new one.”