Birthday Blessings...

HAPPY BIRTHDAY JESUS

Thank you for bringing JOY to the world.

Thank you for anchoring our souls to the authentic HOPE that only you can offer.

Thank you for being the first and only remaining authentic Christmas GIFT.

Thank you for LOVING us beyond earthly measure.

We love you, Lord! Happy Birthday!!

And, as an aside: my little daughter would like to know how old you are?

All I could subsantively offer is that we definitely would not have enough candles to put on our cake.

MERRY CHRISTMAS!

never send a man to do a woman's job...

Thsi post is alternatively titled: The Present Procrastination Polka.

OK: A.) I am not sexist.

B.) I am not a feminist. At least in the modern American, uber-ridiculous, anti-Biblical implementation of the concept.

I can't, in fact, think of many "ists'" that describe me. Perfectionist, possibly. But certainly none that would include me amidst the raging bandwagon that likes to elevate women at the expense of men for the sheer thrill of the exercise.

That being said, there are tangible differences between the genders. Many, many multitudes of them.

As this Christmas morning and all its' celebratory present-opening-package-tearing-into glee races towards us with insistent abandon, my darling husband is tracking down last minute gifts. Which are the only kinds of gifts Copper buys, actually. For him, all gifts are purchased at the 'last minute'. It is as though he can't be bothered to engage in any present-purchasing nonsense whatsoever until he has the occassion for said gift clearly in his line of sight.

He does this same Present Procrastination Polka with birthdays, weddings, Christmas, anniversaries, Valentines Day... All holidays or dates of special remembrance which traditionally involve some kind of an acknowledgement in the form of a gift or card, Copper can be counted on to be shopping right up until the deadline (and sometimes after it). This morning found us heading off together to pick up the "last minute items" on his Christmas list (read: 'everything on his list').

Copper and I share the task of Christmas gifts annually, with me doing, say, 90% of the shopping, and Copper picking up the final 10%. I try to divide the burden so it is not overwhelming, as the prospect of shopping fails to thrill my beloved husband, even when the proprosed gifts are intended for people he loves above all others. This year, his Christmas list consists of four people. Two women and two men; his mother, his father, his brother, and me. As he is related to each one of us, he's gathered ample ideas of what might comprise an appropriate gift to each of us. He also is aware that two of the recipients on his list are women, without a shred of masculinity.

I must explain a basic tenant of gift-giving a la Copper. You see, in Copper's ideal world, the entire process of finding, procuring, wrapping, giving, unwrapping, and receiving of a gift should all take place within the same 24 hour period. It is extremely rare (as in, Hailey's Comets happen more often) that Copper will have a gift chosen and purchased more than a day or two ahead of the anticipated time of giving. It is not that he does not care - in fact, it it the opposite. The prospect of contemplating what to buy for any given person he loves, stressing out about not being able to give them something personal and meaningful, planning what to buy for whom, actually taking the time out to drive all around doing the shopping, and wrapping each present deeply daunts and exhausts my sweet Copper than for almost anyone I know. He puts his heart into each gift and really wants to give to each person that one, perfect, ideal present that will make their eyes light up like they were seven years old. He seeks so much to give to others in a way that equals sheer JOY that his expectations make the whole process quite overwhelming before it begins.

So, as a means of self-preservation, he skips every step of the process except the buying and the wrapping. And even the wrapping part is becoming optional. Thank goodness for gift bags.

Keeping all of that in mind, as I arrived to collect him from work this morning to embark on our shopping odyssey together, I did not know what to expect. A frustrated, resigned man? A jovial and happy Santa-like husband? It was more of the latter: Copper greeted me with an exhilerated look of deep satisfaction on his face. I smiled and relaxed. But then he uttered words that caused the prickling sensation of worry to creep up my spine,

"Honey, Home Depot opens at 9:00. Let's just go there - we can buy everything we need for everyone on my list in one store."

Now, I may be well-known for being extremely practical, but I'm dang sure neither I or Copper's Mom have ever included on our Christmas wish list such banner items as circular saws. Or a toilet seat, nifty-thrifty-handy-dandy socket wrench, duct tape, or even that snazzy extension ladder (which was kind of cool, but it was an EXTENSION LADDER). When shopping for someone whose DNA does not contain a "Y" chromosome, it should be a fairly well-understood piece of common knowledge that the "Home Depot" is not an appropriate place to be browsing the aisles, hoping for inspiration. Ever.

Giving a power tool as a gift to 99.9% of all mother-wife-women types is akin to sending a burly guy into a day spa for a "day of pampering". The vast majority of men would run screaming from that spa seeking significant beer and sports on TV, in order to effectively recover from all the Frou-Frou McGoo stuff that happens in there. The stuff that women typically love, by the way.

I desperately and deeply love my husband, but I think maybe I will need to take greater responsibility for all of the Christmas shopping next year. Either that, or we're splitting our whole doggone list down the middle by gender. I will shop for the girls. And he can shop for the boys. All of whom can probably expect to receive a laser level and some industrial grout sealer. Or maybe even a power tool.

Or an extension ladder.

The Dr. is out

Today is the first day in over 2 years that I have not had a taste of Dr. Pepper.

And I survived!

It seems flippant, even simple, really. But it marks a meaningful milestone for me. I am amazed at how easily we slip into patterns of living that are not necessarily the healthiest. Dr. Pepper, while the world's most perfect beverage, has become a dependency for me.

So, today I tried an experiement = no Dr. Pepper. And you know what? Though I had a raging headache all day long, I'm still standing.

Please excuse my little happy dance ~ I am tickled with myself.

Christmas songs. Kind of.

According to my sweet 5-year old daughter, it's "Police Navidad."

The first stanza of "Angels We Have Heard On High" finishes with "sweetly singing, board the planes."

And her version of lyrics of the "Twelve Days After Christmas" includes the very rare species of bird, "... two turtleducks..."

Vacation before the vacation

OK, I have been utterly slacking. I admit it.

But there is a legitimate reason behind the almost 2-week absence from my usual blogging activities...

We are ON VACATION!


As a family anchored by a policeman, vacations that involve actually going away to another location must happen at rather odd times of the year. Police officers don't tend to be able to take time off during or near the actual traditional holidays. Christmas? New Years? If those holidays fall on the day your shift is scheduled to work, you work. If you have worked on Christmas, Thanksgiving, and New Years for eleven years in a row, that does not buy you a "Get Out Of Jail Free" card. If those holidays fall during your shift again this year, you are working them again this year. So, while everyone else on the circling planet is drinking eggnog around a beautifully lit tree, celebrating Christmas Eve service, or ringing in the New Year with streamers and champagne (Dr. Pepper if you are me, but I digress), my beloved Copper and hundreds of thousands of his fellow cops are standing guard, patrolling our streets, and working to keep us safe.

While earnestly wishing with all their hearts that they could be home with their families at such blessed, special moments in time as Christmas, celebrating the birth of Jesus with their own children.

With that reality in mind, we have become adept at improvisation. This year, we are celebrating both early and late, since Copper will be working a wretched shift that will take him away from our home and family on Christmas Eve, Christmas Day, New Years' Eve AND New Years' Day. So, we carved out our own Christmas family vacation and have been at the beach since December 3, to return December 16. This is where our real Christmas will happen. Yes, it is early. And yes, it is kind of weird to be romping around the sunny shores of Maui while celebrating a blessed holiday that falls in the dead of winter and usually involes images of snow. But, here we are. Improvisation has it's upside. And we are loving being together and finding new reasons to be grateful each day.

There you have it - the catalyst for my being a wee bit distracted. Happily, delightfully distracted.

It is necessary, this distraction, as 2007 promises leap-of-faith events for our family which are already causing us to need to draw upon reserves from seldom tapped reservoirs to weather with grace and God-given wholeness. So we are especially appreciative of this "vacation before the vacation" that we are afforded right now. A time to top off those deep wells in our souls, stock up on prayer and laughter, and add a a few rows to the ongoing family quilt we are ten years into making, and enjoy our children rather than live with our children. Time to teach and to learn. Time to talk and to listen. We just need time, unabridged, with each other. Time.

I wish all of my life - each one of my days - happened the way these days have: deliberately and with utmost purpose, living without regret and sucking the marrow from each moment.

But then, the fact that it doesn't indicates how far from the will of God I'm currently travelling in my non-vacationers "real" life, now doesn't it?