|Reindeer Duck- sold out|
While I was there, the head duck master, A.K.A. "Katie," mentioned how she planned on sticking me on the register at the holiday shop part of next week. (That is a fundraiser the PTA does each year that allows students to come into a shop they set up and allows the children to purchase gifts for their family or friends.) I volunteered last year, and LOVED it. Helping a child shop for each gift is a blast, especially the younger ones. Most memorably, the second grade boy who had $20 to spend on his mom, dad, and sister. Somehow, he really thought his sister was going to want a flashlight. While I tried to steer him toward the mood rings, explaining that while his sister was 12 years old, hormones kick in, and he might benefit from "reading" her mood prior to pissing her off. It took some convincing, but surprise, he bought two! (He thought it would be extra helpful with his mom as well, and that left extra money for that flashlight he wanted for himself, uh, I mean, his "sister.")
Anyway, I really can't stand being responsible for money. Freaks me out. I mean, for real, I'm not a math major. Actually, I'm not a major in anything. Remember, I didn't go to college... And I freakin' didn't know what a rhombus was until this past week. How the heck do they expect me to calculate mood rings and assorted items when I will no doubt be distracted by: a shiny coin; a mood ring and feel inspired to shove it onto my pudgy fingers and wait until I can read my own mood; a mood ring that I must stick on someone else's finger so that I might know how to treat them; a "World's Greatest Mom" mug that I really want but feel cheated that it costs more than five of the same mugs at the dollar store; a child that is as indecisive as me and get the register and find that they are $18 short for what they intended on purchasing; the inability to calculate tax on my own without a calculator, and a husband or friend who reminds me where to add the decimal for the multiplication of that answer; a child who insists that every gift they purchased is not for themselves, but EXACTLY what their Grandpa would have wanted (no, that bow won't look so good on your hairless grandfather... I've met him. He wouldn't look good in pink either. True story.) So, needless to say, I expressed my concern, and it appears that a trained monkey could not be obtained for the event, and I have always said, "I am here to help, in whatever way you need me." Clearly, I need to amend that statement in the future.
It's the first day of December, and I am running out of elf ideas. I am going to share with you a bit of my philosophy on Santa and the elves. First, Santa takes his direction from our Lord. Second, the elves can only make three gifts, and they can only do so within the budget that our family has been blessed with. We send the money, and the elves do what they can. No matter if they are naughty or nice, they get three gifts. That is because, regardless of how we all act, we were sent a Savior. Not because we did anything. But because we needed Him, and that our Heavenly Father knew that. Our elf does not punish them by not returning, or threatening with anything. That is my job. I discipline. The elf- just for fun. Today, our elf was bowing before the new born King. And that is what my daughter reported to me this morning. "Mom! Shout! is bowing before Jesus!" It is a personal choice each parent makes on behalf of their children- Santa, no Santa. Elf, no elf. I say the biggest decision is how to share your faith. And that is through actions, and that is why this year, we are "Giving Christmas Away."
Each year we try to remember to thank those that serve us. While each year we find that we are no better financially able than the year before, each year we find some way to share our gifts with those that give of themselves, year round. Our teachers, bus drivers, speech therapists, coaches, child care workers at the YMCA, local firemen, etc. Last night, we invited some neighbors to join us in a meal (pizza), and help us make some ornaments and a little give away to some local seniors. They are hand warmers made from fabric that is sewn and filled with rice and lavender scented epsom salt that you microwave (with a cup of water in the microwave to reduce the change of causing a fire) and place on a sore muscle, or hold in your lap to keep your hands warm. The cost was minimal, but the opportunity to share that with those around us was priceless. I pray that the gesture warms the souls who accept it, and also that they remember the water in a cup part ;o)