Skip to main content

I wanna give gifts: lots and lots and lots of gifts!

I expressed to Curly-Haired Daughter yesterday that I got a little down this time of year. First, Christmas isn't my favorite holiday - I much prefer Easter. I find that Christmas has a lot of stress related to it.

Beyond that though, I always feel a little bad that we can't stuff presents under the tree. Now, Dear Husband and I made a very conscious decision years ago (following in the footsteps of the clear-headed thinking of my brother and sister-in-law) that each kid would get three gifts, just like Baby Jesus. That cut down not only on expenses, but keeps the focus more on The Gift rather than a bunch of toys.

However, I feel a little bad. I would love to get our kids just what they want: that new video system, tech toys, cloths galore, bling and glitter and wow!!! A tree so stuffed with gifts that dad can't get around it to plug the lights in!!! Hours to open all those shiny presents!!!

But we can't.

We can't because we can't afford it, but we also know it's not good for them, for us. My daughter pointed out that my kids were generally selfless - which they are - and don't really care about such things. They are satisfied.

So why am I not?

Comments

  1. because that's not how our society measures satisfaction, happiness and success.

    Kudos for raising kids that measure it differently.

    ReplyDelete
  2. You are blessed with the gift of your selfless children. You 've done a great job raising them.

    ReplyDelete
  3. I am quite blessed. I have great kids. They are a real gift.

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

I love comments, even if you don't agree, but please don't leave anonymous posts. A well-mannered reader leaves a name!

Popular posts from this blog

Trying to "end run" God

If you're a football fan, you know what an end run is. From Merriam-Webster:
a football play in which the ballcarrier attempts to run wide around the end of the line We try to "end run" God a lot. I do. I figure I know better. I've got this - no need to worry the Big Guy about such a trivial thing.

Of course, it never works.

Like the puppy above, when we try and evade the tough obstacle (even though we KNOW we will eventually have to do it), we end up - well, off in the bushes.

But oh! How I wished my way worked. I'd love to take a flying leap and land smoothly and gracefully. People would be in awe, as if watching Simone Biles nail a balance beam routine that no one else would even attempt. I would shyly look down and blush - just lightly - and acknowledge (But humbly! Oh so humbly!) my achievement.

But no: I am the one pulling myself out of the bushes, scratches all over my legs and twigs in my hair. I'd hear that gentle but loving voice of God saying, &quo…

Be Transfigured

From today's readings: 

Jesus took Peter, James, and his brother, John, and led them up a high mountain by themselves. And he was transfigured before them; his face shone like the and his clothes became white as light.

...we possess the prophetic message that is altogether reliable. You will do well to be attentive to it as to a lamp shining in a dark place until day dawns and the morning star rises in your hearts.

Today we celebrate the Transfiguration. For whatever reason, Jesus brought three of His disciples to Mount Tabor to witness this miracle. They weren't sure what they were seeing, but they knew enough to throw themselves to the ground in the presence of Almighty God. St. Peter (who never did anything halfway) excitedly declares that he will erect tents on the mountain as a way of memorializing the event. But Jesus tells him and the others that they are not to tell people what they witnessed - at least not yet.

In the second reading, the requirement to be quiet has bee…

Crossing Guard

I saw you
today
as you guided
your little man across that busy street.

You were wearing some
big man boots
and
watching cars and lights.

Your little man had on
black sneakers and
a Mickey Mouse hat
that bounced
as he walked.

He wasn't watching nothing but
your big man boots
and
the white stripes of the crosswalk.

Just before
he got to the sidewalk again,
his step bounced a bit
- he hopped over
a spot where the asphalt broke.

You turned to look,
holding out a hand to
your little man.
Not rushed or angry,
just making sure
he got up
on that sidewalk.

Then you walked on,
in your big man boots,
face into a cold Michigan wind,
with the little man behind,
his hat bouncing.