Christmas Madness

I've been so immersed in my work that I haven't paid much attention to the calendar. Earlier this week, I realized that December 25 is next week. How did this happen? Luckily, I'd done some shopping here and there, but the 8-ball was still significantly obscuring my line of vision. Yesterday, I finished my holiday cards and put them in the mail. Yes, I still send holiday cards. I realize it's a dying tradition, but I've already established that I am a dinosaur, so there you go.

While I'd made some holiday progress, I hadn't shopped for my nieces or nephew. I hadn't even really thought about what to get. Gasp. Horrors. How did it ever get so late? Yesterday evening, I headed out with a local friend to finally address this significant problem. As we cruised through the aisles at the Red Dot Boutique, I realized that I'd made a serious miscalculation. All the holiday locusts had already swooped in and taken all the good stuff. All they left behing were a few scantily-clad Barbies and a bunch of Star Wars figures.

I was about to give up when we turned the corner and there before us was Thomas the Tank Engine. My hopes lifted as I imagined my nephew's squeal of glee, "Thomas!" I chose a new accoutrement for his train set. It has bells. OK, I'm not really allowed to buy gifts that make noise (reference aforementioned Hokey Pokey Elmo and Chicken Dance Elmo Christmas). Hopefully, my brother and sister-in-law will let my nephew keep the bell-ringing signal thingee. If not, well, I think we know who the scrooges are.

With Thomas safely tucked away in the cart, we moved on. I was determined that my nieces would not get anything Barbie from me. Determined. Instead, I decided to go educational this year. Books. Both girls are reading now and their PhD aunt would encourage their intellectual curiosity. So, this is what they were getting:

They'd learn all about Fancy Nancy and Amelia Bedelia. They'd get so excited about reading that they would compose analytical essays where they compared Fancy Nancy and Amelia Bedelia, using direct evidence and proper citations to support their original and insightful arguments. In other words, they'd outshine my college students. They'd also create original artwork with their sticker books, producing new and heretofore unimagined interpretations of Cinderella and the other Disney Princesses. Yes, they were well on their way to academic geekdom and I was holding the door open for them.

Then, I made one last trip to the mall. There, amidst a bunch of other red and black trinkets and clothes - there was Barbie. And it wasn't just Barbie, it was Barbie dressed in a red and black cheerleading outfit. Books would never do now, not when one item embodied everything the girls hold dear - Barbie and UGA. I checked the price. Just under my budgeted amount. Hope sprung anew . . . until the sales clerk told me that she had only one doll. "One doll?" I said, "One doll will never do." Sensing my distress, she told me about another store in town where they might just have more than one Holy Grail.

The search was on. Sure, it's graduation day and sure, the main drag and every side street is crammed full of graduates and family members and holiday shoppers. Did I care? No. I had Barbies to find. I drove straight into the eye of the storm.

I stopped in one store and they were out of Barbies. Crap, I thought, what if there's only one Barbie left in town? One Barbie will never do. But, then I remembered that I'm in the Mecca of college-related crap. There were plenty more stores to try. I headed back down the street and parked in front of the next college crap store.

I walked in and the sales clerk, sensing my desparation, asked, "Can I help you find something?" "Do you have UGA cheerleader Barbies?" I asked. "Yes," she replied. I can't spell my response, I think it sounded something like, "squeak." Pushing my luck, I asked, "Do you have two?" "Yes," she replied. The clouds parted, the angels sang, and I and the 2 Barbies headed home.

There will be plenty of time for reading. This Christmas, it's continued brainwashing. Go Dawgs!

Intervention by 5 year olds

This week, my five year old nieces came to visit, which explains the lapse in blog entries. They are twins and are easily the best children in the whole world. They play well together, travel well, and listen and follow directions. They're easy-going and up for any adventure. What more could an aunt ask for?

The visit began with a family gathering for my cousin's wedding. As a single woman who can see my 30s in the rearview mirror, I've been to my share of weddings by myself and they don't get easier. I always dread the inevitable question: "So, when are you going to get married?" I didn't expect the question to come from my 5 year old nieces.

As we relaxed in my hotel room before the ceremony, one niece remarked that I only had one bed in my room. I said, "Well, I'm only one person, so I only need one bed." The other responded, "But when you get married, there will be two people in the room." I said, "You know, I might not ever get married." Both looked completely befuddled, like I had just told them that Spongebob is actually not square. After years of Disney princesses who always get their princes, you could almost hear, "Does not compute, does not compute" as they tried to make sense of my response. Weakly, they said, "But everyone gets married."

I thought that would be the end of it. Nope. The next evening, my nieces staged an intervention over hot dogs, potato chips, and fruit - one of the few meals that meets with both of their approval. One niece informed me that I was "just a big kid," and asked, "Are you sure you're old enough to get married?" I replied, "Yes, I'm sure. In fact, I think I might be too old to get married."

The other said that I was just being silly, and both demanded to know why I'm not married. Ah, a question for the ages. I was forced to explain that people get married when they find the exact right person, and I hadn't found the exact right person yet. One niece advised, "Well...maybe if you put on a dress, then someone will think you are cute and will ask you to marry him. If he's not the right person, you can just say, 'no, thank you.'" I said that I would take her advice under consideration.

But they still weren't done. Over dinner last night, they made one last ditch effort to convince me to get married, and quickly became concerned about where this man would sleep. One niece pointed to my office where they'd been sleeping and said, "Well, that's our room, so I guess he'd have to sleep with you." I said that I didn't want to share my bed and she responded, "Well, we have bunk beds so we can sleep in the same room." The other niece chimed in, "Yeah, and sometimes, when I get scared, I sleep in her bunk." So, it's settled - if I ever get married, I'm getting bunk beds and the man can sleep in my bunk only when he gets scared.

I blame my cousin's wedding and Disney for all of this. Meanwhile, as I type this out, my downstairs neighbors are playing with fireworks in the parking lot. I'm hoping that they don't burn the building down or blow up my car. Hopefully, they won't set the sidewalk on fire - a story for another time.