Category: christmas (Page 2 of 4)

Tell Me About Those Balls (#redcup version)

In honor of RedCupGate 2015, I’ll offer an oldie-but-goodie, (and one of my cousin’s favorite blog titles). Obvi, since the whole #redcup thing revolves around noisy Christians, there could be even more commentary. Like, how first we want businesses to have the right  to refuse to make wedding cakes for people we don’t love because of “values” – yet we want businesses we don’t own to uphold all of our values. (Thanks to my Smart Friend Craig who pointed that one out. He is really smart. And sarcastic. Pretty much my favorite kind of people. Read his brilliant writing about an unrelated topic.)

However, just in case any of my friends have panties all bunched up over this – if you really want someone to know how you feel… stop giving them money. (I, however, will not say no to the PSL. Jesus is in my heart, not on my cup.)


 

(Originally published September, 2011)

It’s quite evident that I love a good boycott. Give me a cause (Walmart… short skirts… chips in the ice cream… Times New Roman…) and a platform and I shall wave my banner high. However, I’d like to give my fellow boycotters a few lessons in Banning Behavior.

Apparently there are close to a million moms (or, at least an organization of them) who dislike Ben & Jerry’s new flavor. That’s fine, I tend to show preference to Chubby Hubby (who can resist pretzels + peanut butter + fudge?! Such salty/sweet goodness). However, a letter-writing campaign has ensued, trying to force the flavor off the market, taking away the right of the consumer to purchase a batch of Schweddy Balls as s/he would like.

So, my Million friends that are Moms, I say: It’s fine to dislike a product. Put your money where your mouth is and DON’T BUY IT. Purchase Breyers. Or Edy’s. Or give Columbus Cincinnati a little love and go for Graeter’s. If you don’t want to explain to little Frank why the balls are Schweddy, then don’t point them out to your kiddos. Surely you’re not narrating the entire aisle of ice creams and frozen food novelties?

And while we’re this close to the topic, a word on marketing to children… because I read again about the perils of McDonalds and cereals and every other red dye #5-filled food on the market and the regulations regarding such propaganda: it wouldn’t work if parents would simply say NO. Again, don’t buy it. If they don’t have profits, they can’t make the expensive flashy commercials that have your kids whining about the unfairness of life, why they’re so deprived and how you’re the worst mother ever.

Folks, sometimes there’s power in the pen, but always there’s power in the pocketbook.

Someone is coming to town

Is Santa real? they might ask someday. Well, perhaps not as you think. But there once was a man who loved us so much that he came to where we live. He arrived on his visit in the middle of the night and most of the world went without knowing what had happened until he left again. We don’t know if the red suit is real, but we know what he looks like. His coming sparks a new spirit in each of us.

Image via CC - Kevin Dooley

Image via CC – Kevin Dooley

Yes, my children. There is a man who visits every person in the whole world in one night. He comes from “up north” to where we live and when we wake to this reality, our world will change. He brings a bit of his reality with him and leaves it in the living room. There is too much goodness in the place he calls home and he delights to share it with us. He packs up what he can and then asks us to look beyond the packaging and the ribbons to see it.

Once these gifts fall into your heart and not just into your hands, you will find that you cannot wait to unwrap these things because the joy is multiplied when you share it with someone else. You practically give it away. And yet, find yourself with more, just as this man will return home and take the whole world with him.

[box] “The Word became flesh and blood and moved into the neighborhood.”
John 1:14, The Message[/box]

Someone is coming to town, my friends. Tonight. He sneaks in, not by chimney but by a quiet entrance through the barn or the garage. He comes not with a big sack of toys, but with gifts of love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control. And if we’re willing, we can wake to a home full of gifts with every new morning.

 

Mommy’s First Christmas

I realize my oldest turned 5, but in many ways this seems to be my first Christmas playing the mother role. We’ve celebrated each year, but in effort not to set expectations too high from the start – coupled with a consistent lack of money and generous grandparents – we’ve kept our Christmas morning family celebrations on the simple side. We’ve wrapped a few presents, filled stockings and rallied excitement, but generally I was able to complete “Christmas shopping” for the kids in one fell swoop. 

The day after Thanksgiving, it became apparent that a key change happened with the 5th birthday, leaving me to change my tune. When JJ told the kids we were going to pick out the Christmas tree, H boy bubbled over in excitement. At one point I heard him exclaim, “I love Christmas! All the lights! All the presents!” 
Not only did I marry Clark Griswald, but I’ve produced his offspring.

Christmas tree selection. We’re not allowed to find it in the first row. 

While it’s not his “first Christmas” this is the first one that the boy can really remember the last one. The years prior he expressed a lot of excitement in the moment, but this was the first time he began to recollect his favorite elements: the train around the bottom of the tree, the lights, and leaving a treat for Santa. Before he did this because we told him to. Now he’s excited by his own volition. 
Now we’re not going through the Christmas motions to set the tone. It’s opening night. Suddenly I’m figuring out exactly how many gifts each kid should have and – as my sister pointed out – including the baby or Santa will look like a jerk. I’m not able to toss a few stocking stuffers in the cart while the kids are along because they have memories like elephants and there would be no stashing it away.

This marks my first year playing Santa for real. In the past we’ve let the extended family gatherings suffice for gifts but now we’re building our own traditions. We’re living as our own unit in a new way because now the kids are remembering “this is what we do at Christmas.” Which brings along its own set of stresses and considerations because I want to do it right – I want to emphasize the real reason for the season and encourage the giving aspect, not just the getting.

So, here’s to it. What an adventure. 

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