Trick-or-Treat?
My son's new ring tone delivers a tune familiar to my eighties-loving ears: "It's tricky to rock a rhyme, to rock a rhyme that's right on time, it's tricky. It's tricky, tricky, tricky, tricky. . ." I believe Reverend Run (of the notable eighties rap band, Run DMC) was correct. It is tricky to rock that rhyme! In fact, in 1985, I was tricked into going to a Run DMC/Beastie Boys concert. I can't remember what my friends told me we were going to be doing that evening, but I can assure you, a rap concert was not in my plans, and yet, there I was, rocking a rhyme with Run DMC. I'm sure it was a tricky prospect to get me a ticket, get me downtown, and in the end, I enjoyed it.
Thanks to the ring tone, I have tricky on the brain. Things that are tricky. . .
It's tricky for me to avoid Christmas music until the day after Thanksgiving, which is just a personal goal. On that Friday, I start listening to carols non-stop in my car. No more news, no more eighties' tunes, just carols of all kinds, all the time. When I wrap presents, carols. When I bake, carols. But I don't care for hearing Christmas music before Thanksgiving. Certainly not in October.
Cornflake wreath cookies are tricky. Marshmallows, green food coloring, butter, and red hots (which I can never find) are sticky and messy, and at any other time of year would probably not go together very well. But it's a favorite cookie at my house, so I lay out the wax paper and make them. Sometimes I give up on the wreath shapes all together and make blobs which I call "holly," because honestly, it's just too hard. Tricky. Or rather, sticky.
I would guess that it could be tricky to have a live Nativity scene on the town square. Not just to find the willing participants and the agreeable animals on a day that was dipping below 20 degrees, but there's that question people could ask. . . a Nativity scene on public property? I didn't participate in the scene, but even getting my family dressed warmly enough to get in the car for a drive-by nativity viewing took some doing. Mittens, hats, hot drinks, coats, scarves and boots. Can we see the donkey from the car? Is Bella an angel at 4:00? What do people think of the Nativity scene by the clock tower? It could all be a little tricky.
There are gift exchanges when I might have overspent, under spent, thought too much, or didn't think enough. There is a running list on my counter that is completed every day. Until it isn't. Not to mention that life goes on while Christmas happens. Yesterday, scribbled on top of my master Christmas Gift-And-To-Do List were the following items: leotard, fishnet tights, Sharpie markers, call orthodontist, carrots, pay bills. [Note: the leotard and fishnet tights are for my daughter's tap class, lest you get any ideas about my Christmas Eve church attire.]
When shopping with my husband over the weekend, he nearly rained on my very festive Christmas parade with some tricky/icky/sticky questions. "Why is there is so much spending for just one moment?" We questioned our list for a little while before continuing. And then he asked me this: "Are there any gifts that you have received that you look back on and really remember?" We talked about certain gifts given, special gifts received, and why they were meaningful. It was a conversation that tricked us both; it went in a really good direction after nearly going poorly. We ended up picking some really special gifts that day—I love it when we trick ourselves.
I think there are just moments, you know? Moments of "oh no it's December 10 and I haven't baked anything and I need to wrap and I still have some gifts to buy and what should I buy for Adam's assistant and I totally forgot about the sprinkles and how much do I tip my hair stylist at Christmas and why won't that one tree outside JUST STAY LIT?????" Moments like this can trip this girl up, send her over the Christmas edge. So now I will pause and take a moment to break it all down. There are plenty of days left to bake, and the closer it gets to Christmas, the fresher it will all be. I can Google the "appropriate" tip amount for a stylist, and if it's not a comfortable amount, I will do what I normally do and add a plate of cookies that I just baked. I can pick up some sprinkles at Drug Mart, or not. It's really okay either way. (It's not okay; I'll be going to Drug Mart.) I can organize all of my wrapping supplies and wrap gifts on my free afternoons. I actually have many. I also have an 11-year old daughter who loves to wrap and bake. [Note to self: when things are tricky, do not overlook the elves who live in your own house.] I can shop for Adam's assistant online and have the gift sent to his office, or turn this item over to him if I am stumped.
See? That wasn't so difficult. And the rewards that come from the Christmas preparation are sweet. Avoiding the carols in October and most of November makes "Joy to the World" seem all the more majestic when it plays at full volume in December. The cornflake wreaths are delicious and chewy. Shopping is always fun and frantic and crazy-nuts, but I love it, and giving the gifts is just what I have always been taught: better than receiving. And believe it or not. . . even after those very tricky moments of panic, those un-lit lights and unanswered questions and un-found sprinkles, Christmas still manages to arrive and always would have, without anyone else's list, or anyone else's plan. And that. . . is the real treat.
Thanks to the ring tone, I have tricky on the brain. Things that are tricky. . .
It's tricky for me to avoid Christmas music until the day after Thanksgiving, which is just a personal goal. On that Friday, I start listening to carols non-stop in my car. No more news, no more eighties' tunes, just carols of all kinds, all the time. When I wrap presents, carols. When I bake, carols. But I don't care for hearing Christmas music before Thanksgiving. Certainly not in October.
Cornflake wreath cookies are tricky. Marshmallows, green food coloring, butter, and red hots (which I can never find) are sticky and messy, and at any other time of year would probably not go together very well. But it's a favorite cookie at my house, so I lay out the wax paper and make them. Sometimes I give up on the wreath shapes all together and make blobs which I call "holly," because honestly, it's just too hard. Tricky. Or rather, sticky.
I would guess that it could be tricky to have a live Nativity scene on the town square. Not just to find the willing participants and the agreeable animals on a day that was dipping below 20 degrees, but there's that question people could ask. . . a Nativity scene on public property? I didn't participate in the scene, but even getting my family dressed warmly enough to get in the car for a drive-by nativity viewing took some doing. Mittens, hats, hot drinks, coats, scarves and boots. Can we see the donkey from the car? Is Bella an angel at 4:00? What do people think of the Nativity scene by the clock tower? It could all be a little tricky.
There are gift exchanges when I might have overspent, under spent, thought too much, or didn't think enough. There is a running list on my counter that is completed every day. Until it isn't. Not to mention that life goes on while Christmas happens. Yesterday, scribbled on top of my master Christmas Gift-And-To-Do List were the following items: leotard, fishnet tights, Sharpie markers, call orthodontist, carrots, pay bills. [Note: the leotard and fishnet tights are for my daughter's tap class, lest you get any ideas about my Christmas Eve church attire.]
When shopping with my husband over the weekend, he nearly rained on my very festive Christmas parade with some tricky/icky/sticky questions. "Why is there is so much spending for just one moment?" We questioned our list for a little while before continuing. And then he asked me this: "Are there any gifts that you have received that you look back on and really remember?" We talked about certain gifts given, special gifts received, and why they were meaningful. It was a conversation that tricked us both; it went in a really good direction after nearly going poorly. We ended up picking some really special gifts that day—I love it when we trick ourselves.
I think there are just moments, you know? Moments of "oh no it's December 10 and I haven't baked anything and I need to wrap and I still have some gifts to buy and what should I buy for Adam's assistant and I totally forgot about the sprinkles and how much do I tip my hair stylist at Christmas and why won't that one tree outside JUST STAY LIT?????" Moments like this can trip this girl up, send her over the Christmas edge. So now I will pause and take a moment to break it all down. There are plenty of days left to bake, and the closer it gets to Christmas, the fresher it will all be. I can Google the "appropriate" tip amount for a stylist, and if it's not a comfortable amount, I will do what I normally do and add a plate of cookies that I just baked. I can pick up some sprinkles at Drug Mart, or not. It's really okay either way. (It's not okay; I'll be going to Drug Mart.) I can organize all of my wrapping supplies and wrap gifts on my free afternoons. I actually have many. I also have an 11-year old daughter who loves to wrap and bake. [Note to self: when things are tricky, do not overlook the elves who live in your own house.] I can shop for Adam's assistant online and have the gift sent to his office, or turn this item over to him if I am stumped.
See? That wasn't so difficult. And the rewards that come from the Christmas preparation are sweet. Avoiding the carols in October and most of November makes "Joy to the World" seem all the more majestic when it plays at full volume in December. The cornflake wreaths are delicious and chewy. Shopping is always fun and frantic and crazy-nuts, but I love it, and giving the gifts is just what I have always been taught: better than receiving. And believe it or not. . . even after those very tricky moments of panic, those un-lit lights and unanswered questions and un-found sprinkles, Christmas still manages to arrive and always would have, without anyone else's list, or anyone else's plan. And that. . . is the real treat.
Tricky...loved this one, Christy. Christmas is just...all of that, isn't it? But we do so love it all! XO
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