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This  Sunday evening, our church, Harvester Christian in St. Charles, MO, was hosting a concert all about worship this Holiday Season. As the messages have focused on Christmas, - preparing for the arrival, giving gifts, and today, WORSHIP, the church offered a Christmas worship and praise session with the hope of just glorifying God and offering praise this Holiday Season to get us in the TRUE Christmas Spirit.

I informed the boyz we were going. They weren't exactly thrilled, but they weren't exactly resistant either.

On our way there, as they were commenting about being at church for the second time that weekend and the 4th time in 8 days, I said, the reason we are going is because we tend to get so caught up at Christmas with getting gifts and giving gifts and shopping and everything else that we forget about why we have Christmas at all.

We passed a house just up the street that has my all time favorite yard decoration. It is cut out of Santa with his hat off kneeling in front of a baby in a manger. I said, THAT is why we are going to church tonight. THAT is the Christmas spirit we need to have.

I explained that how humbling Easter is - when we remember how Christ was brutally killed to pay the penalty for our sins - yet Christmas is a time when we should be so much more humble. That God came to Earth as Jesus as a baby. That he was GOD and was capable of doing ANYTHING HE WANTED and ANYTHING HE COULD, but he came as a baby to understand us and to help us understand Him. THat he messed his diaper and cried and was a toddler but was going to some day save the world! I said how I wished the Bible talked more about how Jesus was as a child. That one day he was the same age as them and had the same issues they have with friends and stuff but was GOD and in the middle of that could have done ANYTHING, but he loved us so SOOOO much he became one of us anyway. That he let himself fall down and skin his knees and stub his toes and do all the things babies and then kids do. WOW. Isn't that amazing? Let's go to church tonight and worship Him because of this amazing gift.

Grant said, "I know one thing. If you died and Jesus was our parent, he would probably let us open one of those presents under the tree early or allow us to go to Dairy Queen (next door to church) after we worshipped Him tonight."

Feeling rather defeated from trying to get a point across, but also admiring his wit and determination, I asked which he would choose if Jesus was his parent. He said, "Well, since I don't really want to waste your money on ice cream we could get at home and since this is a privlege to do early. I think He would allow me and Gavin to open one of the presents to both of us. I would choose that. Wouldn't you, Gavin?" Gavin agreed.

They praised Jesus in their own beautiful ways at church. Gavin - through the awkward, puberty-inflicted "Im-not-sure-who-I-want-you-to-see-who-I-am" phase - tight lipped, occassional head on my shoulder, barely audible singing. Grant - through the - "mom-needs-to-hear-me-and-believe-I-am-sincere-because-I-really-want-to-open-that-gift", yet, "I-am-still-a-kid-and-I-am-not-ashamed-to-sing-as-loud-as-I-can" worship voice explaining to me all the songs they had recently sung in kids church and all the kids in the audience tonight that he recognized. I loved every minute of it. I know Jesus is pleased by worship and that He knows the motives of a heart and who is worshipping Him with a pure heart. I know Gavin and Grant's motives were pure beneath it all.

As we left, Grant inquired- "How did I do? I sang every song. And you know what? That was actually kind of fun. I enjoyed it."

They are now home playing NHL12 (won't buy NHL13 due to strike season) for the XBox - a new addition to their collection after opening it from under the tree tonight.

Judge me. I don't care. It was a great night.

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This is my boyz on Christmas morning:

So, I knew it was coming. I knew the holidays would provide some time of sadness and melancholy this year, what with being a FIRST YEAR WIDOW and all. I have learned to expect these feelings at times that would have in other circumstances been emotionally blissful.





I was, however, unprepared that I would seemingly be going about life JUST FINE in my own little world so quickly losing sight of whom else is living under my roof this first Christmas without Brian. I have lost enough relatives over the years to know better. How could I be so stinking BLIND? How could I, in my own selfish chapter of life, forget that my OWN CHILDREN are experiencing their first holiday without their daddy? Honestly, ever since I started dating, I have become a different person in my own home. I am horrified looking in the mirror God has placed in front of me these past few days.





And do you know what it took for me to remember this GLARINGLY OBVIOUS FACT??? It took my son's crying during Home Alone. It took many minutes of prying and comforting to get him to talk to me and finally just confess that he misses Daddy. It took a picture Grant drew today at school of our family - the four of us with Daddy in a casket. While taking a moment to look around this house at the ornaments that bear Brian's photographs or the very obvious FOUR stockings on the mantle, I can see the constant reminders to their innocent little memories. I am sure the constant display of TV shows and movies and holiday specials that revolve around family traditions or families reunited are knives in their chests.



So, these next couple weeks, I am taking a break from the dating scene that seems to have overrun my thoughts and my priorities. I am concentrating again on my children. I am refocusing on them and their needs and their emotions. I am realigning my priorities to spend time with them instead of out on a date, to stay up late reading and watching TV with them instead of texting new acquaintances, to share a root beer float and a game of MarioKart instead of a glass of wine and awkward conversation with a nearly perfect stranger, to lovingly smother them with hugs and kisses instead of determining if a date is good-night-kiss worthy.




I am so embarrassed that my own selfish desires and my own earthly pleasures lately have clouded my judgement with my children. One thing that I feel I have handled SO well in this entire event since 2007 was my focus on the boyz, ensuring I was in tune with their emotions in any situation.




The thing is, since I started dating, God has not been my number one priority, either. The fact that I have been slightly oblivious to my children solidifies that God is not first in my life. I know better.




While I do not like the image God has revealed to me in my mirror this week, I am incredibly thankful that He showed me this just in time for the Christmas break. I have plenty of HOME time to make some things up to the boyz.





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I can't stop listening to this song.




As the boys moan and roll their eyes every time they hear it lately, I have been explaining that it is my theme song for Christmas this year. I have been telling them I think it should be our family theme song.

They disagree.

They think these should be our family Christmas theme songs:





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Today's Before and After Theme:

Our Christmas Tree.



Okay, TECHNICALLY, this is not OUR Christmas tree. I didn't actually take a picture of our tree before it was decorated because I didn't have the foresight for the before-and-after theme week on this blog. If I HAD taken a picture, it would look a lot like this one, only more real looking and full because this year I bought a new Christmas tree that kicks serious Yule arse in its authenticity, shape and fullness.



These pictures were taken DURING the decorating process. The same morning Grant found the tooth fairy did not indeed stiff him this time around, Gavin awoke to find that mommy had erected the tree the night before while they slept. The boys LOVE decorating the tree, but I do not LOVE their help assembling the tree in preparation for its adornments. They THINK they would love this part, but I know them well enough to know it would NEVER be good enough for Gavin and Grant would start decorating it well before it was ready.






I insist upon listening to Christmas music and drinking Baileys on the rocks hot chocolate during this decorating process. The boys love to hear stories about Christmases past while we do this. They love unwrapping each ornament and hearing the possible story that explains it. This year, Grant had one meltdown when he came across this ornament from 2001. He could not understand why his name would not be on it. I explained that in 2001, this WAS our family. He threatened to break it and went upstairs to his room and cried for a several minutes.



I captured these next two during shots as the boys were busy decorating. I think these two shots could not better describe my boys personalities without their actually being present in the picture.


Each year my mom gets the boys a keepsake Hallmark ornament. Often, they get ornaments from Brian's mom, too or various great aunts and uncles. My mom writes what year from Memaw and Papa on each ornament for the boys to remember whose is whose. They LOVE opening and putting these ornaments on the tree. These are their favorites because they know these ornaments are THEIRS FOR LIFE. I take great care in storing these ornaments in their original packaging (plastic, bubble wrap, box and all) so that when the boys are older, and these ornament go with them some day, they will last, because again, THEIRS FOR LIFE.

The first shot is how Grant opens and cares for his ornament packaging.

The second is Gavin.


After all was said and done, here is our tree:

Some day, I may have a Martha Stuart tree or a themed tree with coordinating colors. For now, it is filled with homemade clay sculptures too heavy for the branch, pieces of paper with doodling on them from the boys preschool years, star wars, scooby doo, spiderman, indiana jones and robots. It is quite perfect. In fact, I will be sad when those Hallmark ornaments go with the boys some day. I will be sad when one branch does not contain 5 ornaments. I will be sad when my ribbon is symmetrical and evenly spaced.

I need to remind myself of that lately.

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Bloggonit, it has been a VERY long time since I last posted. And there is good reason for that. I have not been home. And we do not own a laptop. We are stuck in this house to the old computer desk (which is now in the same room as the new Wii after some rearranging) if we want to cop some computer time.

I am sure I have lost just about every reader I had that read this blog for any reason OTHER than to find out how Brian fares. Since that is the case, the remainder of this post will be to update you on exactly that.

I had said that Brian was going to start chemo on Dec. 29th. We delayed that a week. He is now to start tomorrow, Jan 5, 2009. He has an appointment sometime in the morning. Only I have no idea what time because the last few weeks my brain has been in the toilet or covered in vomit or something along those lines and I don't know where I wrote it down but I didn't write it in my calendar and don't ask me why - I am sure it has something to do with vomit. I will explain.

On Wednesday night, Dec. 17th, Gavin complained of an upset tummy. He began vomiting around 10 pm that night and proceeded to upchuck no less than 7 times until around 10:00 am. He was on the mend, but missed school Thursday. On Thursday night we received one of our many recent ice storms, so school was cancelled on Dec. 19th. Gavin's Christmas break therefore started at the end of school on Dec 17th. When none of us showed signs of the stomach bug for the next three days I assumed we were in the clear. Not so. Brian woke up vomiting all day on Sunday, Dec 21. Grant began vomiting on Sunday evening. I never did. I told Brian, however, that it would be nothing short of a Christmas miracle if I didn't end up with this stomach virus. When I didn't get it for the next three days, I assumed that was the case. Rather, I awoke on Christmas morning with feelings of nausea and illness all day. The good news is that no one else in our extended family was plagued with the illness. No, there seems to be a special place reserved for us on Satan's hit list for ailments.

We were hopeful that Brian's episode that Sunday could be attributed to the bug, but we are not sure. You see, Brian has been having many of these episodes lately. Sometimes it is limited to once or twice in the morning with a pleasant afternoon. Other times, it lasts all day - for instance Dec. 13, Dec. 21, Jan 1. He had smaller episodes on Dec 24th, Dec 30th and Jan 4th. He just vomits. It is strange. It is scary. It is annoying for him. He can't make it to the bathroom in time, so he keeps a bucket nearby and that is embarrassing for him if the boys are around. We can't keep them away all the time, though, and we never know if or when he may be overcome with an urge to vomit. And I know this all sounds gross with the overuse of the word vomit, but it isn't really nausea. He is fine one moment and then just throws up the next, so the term 'vomiting fits' is the only way I know to explain it.

In addition, his right side appears to be getting weaker with some balance issues. Walking for much of a distance is growing more challenging and any sort of uneven surface is just about out at this point in time. He struggles to open most cans and his pill bottles, but insists on trying. He still navigates stairs as long as there is a railing.

He is tired a lot. He watches a lot of movies, TV and football right now. Sometimes he watches it like our dads have been able to do for so many years through closed eyelids and between snores.

All that being said, he is in decent spirits. Admittedly, we are both getting frustrated with the frustrations in our lives if that makes sense. We didn't let them get us down for the holidays, though. We went to my mom and dad's for several days and Santa came there. We spent the new year in Kansas City with Brian's entire family which was very pleasant. There was a lot of driving involved and since I am the ony driver now, it can be taxing on me, but we work through it. The last two weeks went by very quickly. Unfortunately, Brian woke up on New Year's Day with a full day of his vomiting spells. That wasn't the way he wanted to ring in the new year. He was much better most of the next day. He doesn't have much of an appetite in general, though. We were able to squeeze in many games of Euchre and a few board games with the kids. Let me just say that Brian is the best one handed Euchre dealer and player around.

I don't know what all of these issues mean for starting a new round of chemo. I have no idea if the episodes are something more to worry about or if the doctor will suggest we forgo chemo longer. I just don't know. He has his appointment SOMETIME tomorrow, so we will ask tomorrow. In the meantime, the surgeon also wants to meet with us on Tuesday to discuss whether or not he attempts some surgery in an effort to debulk and maybe give Brian some more time.

As you can clearly see, things are the same ol', same ol' here for us. Don't know what we are doing. Brian doesn't feel great, but tries his darnedest not to let it get him down. Kids start school again tomorrow. We mange some time for friends and family. We play each day by ear.

That's about it from here for now. I will write more this week.

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I'm not going to post for a few days. Read a bit each day to tide you over. There is a lot of crap meaningful stuff here today.

Dear tooth fairy,
Even though I lost a tooth
will you please keep it
under my pillow. Please will
you give me something.


Since he said please, he got to keep the tooth and $2. He told me he is going to do this every time now. And, personally, I think it is fine. It keeps the tooth fairy from hiding the teeth elsewhere in our house. By the way, how long does the tooth fairy keep teeth? I mean, I throw away just about every other project that comes my way unless it is a handmade clay something or other, but what do I do with the teeth and for how long and for WHY? Is there etiquette for this kind of thing? Will they want them some day? I don't have my baby teeth and do not feel that I am missing anything. Am I just not nostalgic? Am I a scrooge?



Speaking of Bah! Humbug! I have decided not to send Christmas cards again this year. I think just about anyone that would receive one of our cards reads this blog at least on occasion, so I am saving a days worth of work and over $100 and boycotting the obligatory ritual again. Brian thinks I will cave, but I didn't cave last year.

For your benefit, these are the images from which I was choosing for the card:










Consider yourself served. Merry Christmas, signed the Brian O'Neill family. You're welcome. Feel free to pirate those photos and add us to your refrigerator. Your home will be more beautiful for it.



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As a result of Brian's illness, it is no secret or surprise that I find myself in a role reversal situation. For instance, I am the primary driver now. In fact, I am the only driver now. I was used to sitting back during our cross-Illinois and Missouri trips and being in charge of the IPOD, the DVD player and the children's requests. Now, I find myself constantly saying, "Mommy can't do that right now because I am driving a car." I am getting used to the role reversal, but some days I just get a little angry at it.

Last week, I hung all the Christmas lights outside. I made the boys help me as it was a beautiful day and I truly needed the help. Still, a task that only two years ago Brian performed.

Also, I find myself trying to fill, for lack of a better term, VOIDS in the children's lives - those areas where I know they crave the male companionship and camaraderie that Brian would normally fill but simply can't. They long to go to the sporting goods store with Dad to look at camping and hunting gear instead of the grocery store with me looking at jasmine rice. They long to wrestle and horse-play with Dad instead of sitting and reading and coloring with me. I know this. It is so contrary to my intuitions, but I make myself do these things in order to give them the normalcy they deserve and the type of attention they crave.

We received our first significant snowfall yesterday and last night. Over 4 inches of incredibly HEAVY, WET snow fell on Central Illinois. In the middle of cleaning the kitchen post breakfast, I looked out at the boys playing and decided to don my snow gear and let the messy kitchen wait for me. (It did, unfortunately.) We built a snowman. I took them sledding. And when they decided they wanted to have a snowball fight, I decided I was finished. Some things I just won't do. Instead, I attempted to shovel the driveway. When I realized that 1/4 of the width of the driveway filled my shovel with snow too heavy to lift or budge, I decided I was truly finished and I came inside.


This morning, as the boys were getting on the bus, I watched them dredge through about 5 inches of heavy wet snow and slush, so I decided to get out the shovel again. I blazed a path from our house to the bus stop for their comfort and pedestrian ease. I also thought about Brian. Today he goes for his MRI. His Mom or Dad will be coming to pick him up. I didn't want him to have to worry about maneuvering through the snow, so I found myself heaving cumbersome shovel-fulls of snow off the driveway. I sprinkled some salt on the icy spots and I am hoping it does the trick for easing Brian's trek to the car. I have learned from watching him that it is easy to take many things for granted. One of those things is the ability to move gracefully. He can't stop himself or balance himself when conditions or his body fail him.

I have also come to know that as much as the role reversals sometimes get to me, they certainly distress Brian even more.

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One of the reasons I love Christmas so much is the idle-threat use of ‘Santa is watching.’ As in, “Santa knows if you’ve been bad or good and he sees you doing that.” “Santa keeps his naughty and nice list. Is your behavior naughty or nice right now?” The power of those statements in our house is really unparalleled. The problem is when Christmas floats away onto last year’s calendar and we are 11 months from the next gift-laden holiday, I don’t dare use the “Santa is watching” threat lest I find myself ready to field the wish list requests for longer than I must. I can’t imagine doing an ‘only 326 more days until Christmas’ countdown every night starting in January. No way. So, I am left powerless. My own threats of losing DS, TV, bikes, etc. are relatively effective, but often lead to a choice of bad behavior over the hostage-threatened item just for a good mom-child throw-down.

HOWEVER, I have discovered a new jackpot. This one, so far, is proving to be more golden than Santa.

A chore/reward chart.

I know I am a bit behind the times on this and many parents have been doing it for years, but OHMYWORD I didn’t know how effective this could be. HOLYMOLY my kids have NEVER been so eager to earn their checkmarks for their daily functions. Our daily chores consist of these:

• Set the Dinner Table
• Make your Bed
• Practice Printing/Math/Reading (it is summer, so we all need a little incentive to take time to do this now)
• Put away your clean laundry
• Put away all my toys
• EXTRAS

Okay, so admittedly, I just implemented this plan this week. We will see how it progresses, but the idea Brian I had was that each time they complete one of these tasks, they earn a checkmark. The above list may seem a bit undemanding to many of you, but I have 5 and 6-year-old boys and this is what I would like to get from them each day WITHOUT complaint. If they complain about the task, they do not earn a checkmark. If they do not perform to my standards, they do not earn a checkmark. After 18 checkmarks they earn a $3 allowance (5 and 6 year olds, remember, $3 is the equivalent of a sports car forcyrinoutloud – preferably paid in change so it looks like even more to them). They have been asking for some small action figure type toys lately, so Brian I thought this a good way to let them earn the money themselves since we don’t like to buy them toys without cause.

The drawback. Based on their historical chore-related habits, I really thought that they would earn 18 checkmarks every 10-14 days and this would have been a radical turnaround in their behavior. In the first day, my kids earned FIVE checkmarks. Gavin even cried when he got home yesterday when he learned the basement was all cleaned up in his absence. This may cost me a bit more than I had realized.

Of the above tasks, the one that is working out THE BEST for Brian and me – EXTRAS. This is a very subjective area for anything above and beyond that we think earns them a check. OHMYHOLYWORD you can’t believe the power of this so far. It has my boys tripping over their feet to open my door first, to pour my cereal, to take my plate to the kitchen sink, to lick the very stinking floor I am about to walk across. HOLYCHILDSLAVELABOR, BATMAN this has even me feeling a bit guilty. Because so far, I can’t really justify any one of these small acts as enough to earn a checkmark. But, I am loving it. Yesterday, as we were leaving the house to go to dinner, I called for Grant to come ONCE AGAIN and get in the car. I threatened for him to lose a checkmark (another bonus for Mom and Dad) if he can’t listen. He came running and when I inquired as to what he was doing upstairs when I CLEARLY stated it was time to go before he ascended the steps, he replied, “making the bed.” I told him he already earned his checkmark for making his bed and he couldn’t earn another in one day for the same task. He replied, “No, Mommy, YOUR bed.” Oh yes, he did.

Umm yeah, this is gonna work out just fine.

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This past Christmas the metamorphosis of myself from young, hip, cool chick into my older, ultra practical mother continued. There have been many small instances throughout the years in which I have more and more developed into this woman that my all-knowing, adolescent self vowed I would never become. This Christmas, though, I broke several cardinal Yuletide rules I once claimed unbreakable. My mother has committed these what I once considered heinous acts for years.

1. We used to call my mom 'the lumper.' If you were receiving a clothing item of any sort, you knew it because it was never in a box that could have you guessing its contents. No, it was simply folded up and covered in some snowflake patterned paper adornment. You knew clothes were beneath and no matter your partiality to the contents, you simply weren’t surprised. I used to enviously admire the beautiful packages of different sized and shaped boxes decorated with colorful, shiny bows at our friends’ and relatives’ houses. Mom would say, “I don’t have enough time to put everything in a box and I am not going to PAY for boxes. Who needs bows? You are just going to throw it away anyway.” I lumped every clothing item I purchased this year. EVERY ONE! I did put bows on them; however, without a hard boxy surface for it to adhere, they all fell off. Next Christmas, who needs bows? I have boys for crying out loud!
2. My mom used to buy her own Christmas presents. I found this appalling and used to think it a direct reflection of 1) Mom’s dominating personality (which she isn’t) and 2) Dad’s laziness (which he isn’t, either). I never considered that she was simply ensuring she received her own portion of the Christmas budget for what she truly wanted and that Dad maybe didn’t have a lot of extra time to shop with the busy lifestyle stemming from being a father of 3 working full time. This year, I bought my own Christmas presents for the above reasons.
3. My mom WRAPPED her own Christmas presents. Fast forward to 2007. I mean, they were right there; I knew what they were already; and I was wrapping anyway. Why not? Mom probably thought the same.
4. Mom was ALWAYS so excited to tell us what we had under the tree. She used to put the presents out and watch us shake them and sometimes ask us if we wanted to know what was in them. She wanted to tell us more than we wanted to know. She would inevitably allow us to open at least one before the official unveiling day. Obviously, we never refused. I let my kids open just a few small gifts the night before our own official opening this year. It was fun and made the joy last longer. I may do it again.
5. She would try to talk us out of our ideas. When I was 8 or 9 or so, I KNEW I HAD TO HAVE the Betty Crocker Juicer Blender. I relentlessly begged for this item every day from mid-November through Christmas Eve. Mom and I would argue back and forth, Mom insisting that I would never use the coveted treasure. She was not going to spend the money on something I would NEVER use. I insisted; however, I was SURE I would not receive my coveted culinary gadget because when Mom spoke of practicality, she rarely caved. On Christmas, I opened the one box that I thought MAY be large enough to be my prize. It WAS! I opened the juicer blender devouring its components, instructions and recipe ideas, eagerly using it that afternoon. Mom took my picture stating as she took it, “I better get your picture using this blender since this will probably be the last time you ever use it.” She was DEAD ON! I NEVER USED IT AGAIN! It sat in my closet haunting me because I hated it. I hated getting out all the parts and cleaning it after use (which mom cleverly made ME do). The juice I made was terrible. Ever since the Betty Crocker Juicer Blender incident, I believed my mom about practical gifts, mostly because she would say, “You only think you want that. Remember the Betty Crocker Juicer Blender?” It became a family joke. Regardless, I know now that my mom knew best and she wanted to spend our Christmas budget on something SHE KNEW I would use. When my kids asked for something that looked SO appealing on TV, yet I knew they would never use, I tried to reason with them. It yielded the same results as it did on me when I insisted on the kitchen gadget I couldn’t live without – an argument. This year one of their “must-have’s” was Aqua Dots. “Aqua Dots were made in China and recalled. Little boys and girls who have them are getting sick and dying from lead poisoning.” (True enough, by the way, except for the dying part.) Whenever they asked for an item to which I responded with an immediate “no,” they inquired, “Was it made in China?” “Yeah, I think so.” (Perhaps true) MOM KNOWS BEST and if it requires a tiny little white fib to smack them over the head with that logic, so be it!

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I know most bloggers wrote their post-Christmas, sappy, back to reality blogs 1-1/2 weeks ago, but for us, Christmas was officially over this weekend. We like to spread things as thin as possible and eek out as much fun and enjoyment as we can, so we spread it to January 5. This past weekend was Christmas with my family at my mom’s. They retired in Southeast Missouri about 4 hours south of here. The boys have the time of their lives when we are visiting, and because there is really no place to go when we are there, we all have each other’s undivided attention. Every time we leave my family, I get the blues. Probably because I haven’t lived in the same town, state, and sometimes country as my family in over 12 years and probably never will. Because we are so 100% TOGETHER when we do gather, it is especially hard to leave. You have no idea how badly I wish we lived close enough to meet my sister for lunch, or to Christmas shop together, or to grab a cup of coffee with my dad, or to catch my nieces’ games without having to make it a weekend and a 4-6 hour trip. It is EXTREMELY difficult to leave, but that is reality. So this week is our BACK TO REALITY week. To make it extra real, we have tried to squeeze in as many unpleasant events as possible to kick start the new year – dentist appointments for the boys, a tooth filling replacement for Brian, my monthly cycle, putting away Christmas decorations, cloudy and rainy weather, and to top it off, the next cycle of chemo for Brian this weekend. I might schedule immunizations for the boys just for fun since they’re due for those anyway.

Back to reality for me is very difficult. It means thinking about the week ahead. It means organizing, cleaning, managing, budgeting, shopping, exercising, and reflecting. After a long break from reality, I spend a lot of time pondering the events that just past. Vague thoughts like –

Did I enjoy it enough?
Was I nice to people?
Did I spend as much time as possible with those I love and those that made an effort to see us?
Did I spend as much time and conversation as possible with those I made an effort to see?
What will Brian’s condition be next Christmas – did I make this as enjoyable as possible for him?
Will my kids be as excited and animated next Christmas – did I enjoy them enough?
Was I crabby?
Did I relax?
Why did I eat so much?
Was I thankful enough?
Why did I drink so much?
Was I generous enough?
Etc.

Always, I am greeted with the same answer. Of course, I could have done MORE of any of those things. (except eat and drink – I don’t know if that is possible) I could always spend more time, be more generous, enjoy more, etc. (1/2 empty) Brian told me yesterday during the car ride home that I would make myself crazy with those thoughts. Why would I spend time asking myself regretful hypothetical questions instead of reflecting on the joy the last two weeks brought us? (1/2 full) So here are some of the joyful memories the last two weeks brought me:

Children smiling
Children playing
Children believing
Children indulging
Time with family rarely seen
Reconnecting with friends seen even less.
Laughter
Good food
Micro-brew beer
A gift of some extra cash for our bank account
Adults smiling
Adults playing
Adults believing
Adults sacrificing
Lots of card playing
Dinner at Alexander’s
A gift of ¼ of a cow in my freezer
Good health (except for some coughs and sniffles scattered throughout)
Lots of time together in our home with little distraction

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Well, the title pretty much gives it away, but if you are anxiously awaiting a piece of snail mail wishing you good holiday cheer from the Brian O’Neill family, you will be waiting a long while. I didn’t send Christmas cards this year. I don’t know why. The fact that I hate sending Christmas cards is probably the most likely cause. I hate determining the final list of potential addressees. I hate downloading the address book and wondering which have changed and which are still accurate, racking my brain to determine the change of address emails/cards I forgot to update. I hate determining which photo of my family is the least awful yet most accurate representation of ourselves. I hate sending the inevitable humiliating emails to the few people just to ask for their address that is missing from my file. Why can’t I just send an e-card with a photo at that point? I just don’t like sending the cards. I like receiving them. Completely selfish, I know. Every year for the last three years, I have told Brian, “I think I am not going to send Christmas cards this year. We have so much going on. We are traveling too much. People understand. (ya de ya de ya)” Every year he laughs because I cave around December 21 after receiving several ourselves, and I frantically find an overnight photo card service in our price range staying up until 2 a.m. sorting addresses and writing a Christmas letter. I told Brian the same this year. He laughed again, but I did not cave. The reason I did not cave, though, was not entirely due to my dislike of the Christmas card process. It was because I was working on a project for his mom and dad that I can’t accomplish due to software and technology failure and ignorance on my part. It was because our hard drive that had every photo we have taken from March to November of 2007 crashed. It was because I spend too much time working on this blog. It was because (ya de ya de ya)… I have many more excuses, but something tells me you don’t care. Then Brian said something to me that sealed the deal. He said, “You have the blog that updates our lives for others to see and has plenty of photos and videos. You would just be sending the cards to the same people that check the blog.” Justification. Thank you, honey!

At first, I felt victorious dodging this task I consider such a nuisance; however, the guilt is almost unbearable. I hate the feeling of unreciprocated kindness and good wishes. I have begun to dread the holiday mail seeing the bright and cheery red, blue, gold, and silver envelopes with our address hand-written because I know what is enclosed! I can’t bear to open another holiday note stating their eager anticipation for our photo they receive each year. Ugh! Each card its own telltale heart beating relentlessly, mercilessly under the floorboard, becoming louder and LOUDER! These cards are from people I see once a year or that I haven’t seen in years. Isn’t that the whole point of the Christmas card? I AM thinking of friends and family this time of year. I am just LAZY! I admit it! Just so you know: I am from the bottom of my heart SORRY that I didn’t send a photo card this year and the tradition will re-convene in 2008. If the telltale heart beats any louder, you just may receive one in February.


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We still have two Christmas celebrations to go. We have not even seen my family this holiday and won't until January. This can be confusing to kids. Grant has been showing signs of Seasonal Confusion this past week.

I have just spent about 3 days and countless hours pouring my creative heart and soul into a Christmas project that is not to be. Well, not by Christmas anyway. I will write more about it, but it was for my mother and father-in-law and it just isn't working out. They are VERY difficult to buy for, so I tried to come up with something homemade and technology has failed me - AGAIN - this month. The problem is I have no plan B for them. I have nothing else. I have not abandoned hope, but I have abandoned deadlines in the interest of ACTUALLY enjoying the next couple of days with my hubby and kids. Speaking of...

We do Santa. We know a lot of Christians that don't, and don't get me wrong, I totally understand why. It can completely cloud the vision of the TRUE meaning of Christmas if you are not careful. However, this Santa thing ROCKS!!!! Holy cow, the power of the naughty and nice list cannot be understood to non-Santa parents. I have gained more mileage over the last week with this than a hybrid Toyota. Also, the genuine, non-questioning, 100% belief in something SO illogical is truly something to cherish. I have been the one asking kids the hard questions to get them thinking and to hear their responses. Their answer is almost always, "because he's Santa." I love it. Gavin was terrified as soon as dusk was upon us this evening around 5:00 that he would fall out of favor with the jolly man in red, and Santa would bypass the house with the non-sleeping children. I had to get on NORAD.com and show Gavin the globe so he could see where Santa was and his projected path. The sheer impossibility of the entire concept hit me as I was doing this, and I realized Santa had 4 hours to cover the entire western 1/3 of South America, all of densely populated Latin America and the entire Eastern Time zone in the 5 or so hours until midnight. (According to NORAD, he was in Brazil at about 7:00) I LOVED Gavin more for just knowing it to be true and skipping off. We went outside in the dark in our slippers to look for red nosed reindeer and to listen for jingle bells as we do every Christmas Eve. We didn't find anything except the local airport's red blinking control tower light. My dental hygienist asked me the other day if I was looking forward to Santa's arrival. I said I haven't looked forward to Santa's arrival since I became Santa. Not true as I think about it. I LOVE being Santa, because I won't get to be him for much longer.

As we put the kids to be tonight and the excitement of Santa danced off every breath they took, I asked them why we celebrate Christmas. The VERY FIRST words out of each of their mouths was "Jesus!" Why do we give gifts? "Jesus' birthday." I think we can keep Santa around as long as we keep Jesus first.

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This is an email that was forwarded by my friend, Tricia, this past week. I thought in the spirit of Christmas (and the spirit of procrastination - I have two days left to finish making one present and wrap ALL the rest) I would pass this along. I do not know whom to credit as it was not forwarded with an author.



Dear Santa,
I've been a good mom all year. I've fed, cleaned and cuddled my children on demand, visited the doctor's office more than my doctor and sold sixty-two cases of candy bars to raise money to plant a shade tree on the school playground. I was hoping you could spread my list out over several Christmases, since I had to write this letter with my son's red crayon, on the back of a receipt in the laundry room between cycles, and who knows when I'll find anymore free time in the next 18 years. Here are my Christmas wishes:

I'd like a pair of legs that don't ache (in any color, except purple, which I already have) and arms that don't hurt or flap in the breeze, but are strong enough to pull my screaming child out of the candy aisle in the grocery store.

I'd also like a waist, since I lost mine somewhere in the seventh month of my last pregnancy.

If you're hauling big ticket items this year I'd like fingerprint resistant windows and a radio that only plays adult music, a television that doesn't broadcast any programs containing talking animals, and a refrigerator with a secret compartment behind the crisper where I can hide to talk on the phone.

On the practical side, I could use a talking doll that says, 'Yes, Mommy' to boost my parental confidence, along with two kids who don't fight and three pairs of jeans that will zip all the way up without the use of power tools.

I could also use a recording of Tibetan monks chanting 'Don't eat in the living room' and 'Take your hands off your brother,' because my voice seems to be just out of my children's hearing range and can only be heard by the dog.

If it's too late to find any of these products, I'd settle for enough time to brush my teeth and comb my hair in the same morning, or the luxury of eating food warmer than room temperature without it being served in a Styrofoam container.

If you don't mind, I could also use a few Christmas miracles to brighten the holiday season. Would it be too much trouble to declare ketchup a vegetable? It will clear my conscience immensely. It would be helpful if you could coerce my children to help around the house without demanding payment as if they were the bosses of an organized crime family.

Well, Santa, the buzzer on the dryer is calling and my son saw my feet under the laundry room door. I think he wants his crayon back. Have a safe trip and remember to leave your wet boots by the door and come in and dry off so you don't catch cold. Help yourself to cookies on the table but don't eat too many or leave crumbs on the carpet.

Yours Always,MOM...

P.S. One more thing...you can cancel all my requests if you can keep my children young enough to believe in Santa.

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