Author name: Sandra Tayler

About a month ago my mother asked me the inevitable question “What do you want for Christmas?”  I rarely have a good answer to that question because honestly I don’t need anything.  There are lots of things I would enjoy having, but since I know I’m not going to make frivolous purchases I tend to stay out of stores, thus I don’t even know which frivolous things I would like.  I know I’d love to have a laptop computer, but that’s quite a bit outside the Christmas gift price range.  This year though I found to perfect answer to the question.  See this year Mom and I are going to be together at Christmas instead of 800 miles apart.  So this year I declared that what I wanted was a shopping trip.

When I was a teenager, mom and I went on shopping trips about once per year.  Usually it was for school clothes.  A full shopping trip is different than running to buy a pair of pants because you need them.  The point of a shopping trip is to browse and grab stacks of clothes to try on.  Frequently you grab things that are far too expensive or far too strange to actually buy.  Those things you try on just for the giggles.  At the end of the pile of clothes there might be one or two items that are worth purchasing.  Sometimes there aren’t any worth buying.  That’s okay too.  After two or three stores usually you find at least one wonderful new item.  Even if I find nothing I love having the excuse to look at pretty things and try them on.  At the end of a shopping trip I have a much better idea of what current fashion trends are, whether I like them, and how they look on me.  

Shopping also provides hours of time for just chatting.  Mom and I talk about things in our lives, the world in general, and how much this shirt looks like it is made out of upholstery fabric.  Sometimes the talk covers important topics, sometimes it doesn’t, either one is fine.  Having the right person to go shopping with makes all the difference in the world.  I have to be comfortable with my shopping buddy.  Honestly I’ve never found anyone other than my mom and sisters with whom I enjoy this type of shopping.  Howard and I have gone clothes shopping together just once and we simply do not have compatable clothes shopping styles.  All my female friends have kids, as do I, so unloading all the kids for a group shopping trip becomes a herculean task.  Also I’m not sure if they’d like shopping the way that I enjoy it.  There are women who just don’t enjoy this style of shopping.  

The financial aspect is another hurdle.  While you can go shopping and have fun while spending no money at all, it is definitely more fun if you get to bring home at least one pretty new thing.  If you have two women from different households they may have completely different budgets.  Our budget has been very tight which means I am much happier if I don’t wander through stores looking at things that I can’t afford to buy.  For this trip my mom told me how much money she was willing to spend on a gift for me and that guided my choices.  In the end she bought my birthday presents as well as Christmas gifts.  The world is filled with pretty things.

It may be frivolous and female of me, but I loved every minute of the shopping trip.  I loved trying on the clothes.  I loved getting to pick out new clothes and inexpensive jewelry that I get to take home with me.  I kept some of the purchases out to wear tonight to the Schlock meetup, the rest has been wrapped and put under the tree.  Going shopping with my mom was like coming home.  It was like being a teenager again.  It was so wonderful and comfortable and happy.  This vacation has only begun and it has already been wonderful for me.

In my growing up years my family had a tradition of going carolling for the twelve days prior to Christmas.  In my memory this tradition has been imbuded with a soft glow as I remember all the wonderful postcard moments it provided.  I’ve been really looking forward to sharing this tradition with my kids this year.  My first hint that my plan was going awry came when both Gleek and Link declared that they didn’t even want to go.  Then I had to decide whether to require them to participate because I believe they’ll love it when they try it, or whether to allow them to stay home.  Remembering my realization that I can’t make Howard love my traditions, I realized that I can’t make my kids love them either.  I had to allow them to stay home if they wanted to.  

We hadn’t even exited the house and my kids had already departed from my script for this event.  When they saw everyone else getting ready to go, both Gleek and Link relented and decided to go along.  I was glad.  But then my children refused to walk politely.  Instead there was running and trompling in the yards of other people.  Gleek insisted that she bring along a huge stuffed sheep which she then got tired of carrying, so I had to lug it.  Link had a hurt foot which he kept half out of his shoe.  This meant that his shoe kept falling off.  Kiki decided that snitching santa hats from everyone was a fun game.  Patches got tired and had to be carried.  Then there was the screaming incident of Who Gets To Hold Which Star.  None of that was soft or glowy.  It was all grumpy.  By the time we started back home I was ready to cry over the failure of this attempt at tradition sharing.

Then the walk home was peaceful and the Christmas lights were beautiful.  During that walk something went click in my head.  All the soft glow was stripped from my carolling memories and suddenly I remembered all the squabbles I had with my siblings during the course of carolling.  The squabbling moments were as frequent if not more frequent than the soft glowy moments.  My kids weren’t the ones who had it wrong, I was.  The squabbles and lost shoes and tired legs were all much more in line with my childhood experiences than with the script I’d created in my head.  The script in my head was fiction and if I continued to expect everyone else to try to match it, I was only going to be further disappointed.

Tonight we’re going carollingagain.  Some of the kids my choose to stay home with Howard.  There will probably be quarrels.  There might be lost shoes or skinned knees.  But I’m going to love it for what it is rather than trying to make it be what it never was.

We have successfully arrived at my parent’s house.  My kids are really very good travellers.  We only had minor gripes and whining with no major incidents at all.  My access to a computer at my parent’s house will be limited.  This is not due to a lack of computers, but rather due to an abundance of people who want to use said computers.  I intend to keep blogging daily.  I’ll do it on paper if necessary and then type it in later. 

I’ve mentioned before how much I love going on road trips with Howard.  I love having all those hours where Howard and I have nothing to do but listen to music, mediate child disagreements, and talk to each other.  The talking is the part I love most.  Early in the trip we exhaust all our normal topics of conversation and so we end up delving for things to talk about.  Invariably we learn somthing about each other that we didn’t know before.

This time I ended up telling Howard about the evolution of my comfort with being self employed.  I grew up with a Dad who worked as a government computer scientist at the same lab for over 30 years.  So I assumed that was how most careers normally work.  Then I met and married Howard who kept talking about making a living as a musician.  The thought of running our own business terrified me.  I wanted the security of a steady paycheck.  I was delighted when Howard took a corporate job to pay the bills.  Then I was afraid again every time he complained about the job and talked about how he wanted to quit.  I think my change in attitude came about when I took charge of our small business finances.  I began to see the flow of money and understand how small businesses really work.  Somehow along the way I became a full advocate of us running our own creative business and living off of it.  By the time Howard was ready to quit Novell I was able to be very glad about the choice and support him fully.  

I told Howard all of that and he laughed.  He had no idea that I’d ever been scared of self employment.  I guess we weren’t as good about talking things through back then.  I can tell you now that I never want us to go back to working for someone else.  I love the life we have.  I often get thanks from Schlock fans because I support Howard in his cartooning.  I honestly wouldn’t have it any other way.  The sacrifices we live with to make ends meet are very definitely worth it.  We are so lucky.

One of my goals for next year is to set up a website for my writing. It doesn’t need to be complex, just a front page with a few linkages to stories that I’ve written. Eventually it will become the page from which I promote some book projects I have planned. It’ll probably be a fairly typical author’s page. I don’t think I’ll move my blog onto it though. I like my blog here in LJ for now. The biggest requirement is that the webpage set up needs to be simple enough that I can modify it by myself without waiting on anyone else. I’m fairly certain that a simple html editor or website builder will be able to manage this for me, but I don’t want to spend piles of money.

Any suggestions?

Yesterday I looked at the list of things to do today and I knew it was packed, but that I could get it done. I forgot to leave extra space for receiving a phone call from Gleek’s kindergarten teacher. I spent 10 minutes talking on the phone to my little girl who sobbed that she just wanted to come home. I then went down to the school to see if I could get a more coherent account of events. As usual there was a cascade of events that led up to the tearful phone call. There was some obstinate resistance from Gleek which the teacher tried to counter, but the counter move exacerbated the upset rather than resolving it. I sympathize with the teacher. Gleek often requires special handling and a different set of rules, but in a classroom setting the teacher can’t easily provide those. I sat in the classroom for awhile and talked to Gleek. I tried to help her think of happy things about staying at school. She did want to do those things, but she wanted me to stay with her. I couldn’t. I had to get home and pack. I knew that if I left Gleek behind she would feel abandoned and would probably spend the rest of her school day in tears. I couldn’t do that. So I prepared to take her home with me. Then as we gathered her backpack she saw what the afternoon project would be. She really wanted to do the project. She wanted to do it enough that she decided to stay even though I had to leave. The choice made all the difference. The rest of her day was happy.

Gleek’s school struggles need more of my brainspace come January. Until then I’m on vacation from that particular worry.

Around Noon when I posted my earlier message, I didn’t see how I was going to get everything done. By 7 pm it all pretty much was finished. Kudos go to Howard. He devoted his whole day to running errands for me and making sure that all the little-but-important things got done.

Tomorrow morning we all hop into the car for our vacation. I’m so glad.

I have reached the point in packing where I’m wondering why I didn’t get more of this done yesterday. Agh.

In our house I am the person who finds things. If the kids lose their shoes, they come to me. If Howard misplaces a book he comes to me. Most of the time I can find the missing item in a fairly short span of time. There are times when I can find things that belong to Howard which I’ve only seen once several months ago. It is almost uncanny at times. I don’t know how I do it either. It is probably due to the fact that this is my house and I’ve done most of the organization here. Also the things that are moved get moved by my people and I know where they are likely to put things. Whatever magic alchemy that occurs to allow me to find things, takes place on a subconscious level. I can’t just stand in one place and tell you where the object is. I have to wander around until I suddenly know exactly where to go get it.

This evening Howard began packing his things for our coming California trip. He needed a couple of gym bags that neither of us have seen for several months. This time a little piece of me stood back and watched while the finding portions of my brain went into action. Howard had already searched for the bags. I knew this, but I still started in his office where he had already looked. I knew the bag would not be there, but the process of looking through the office triggered something. I knew that the next place I needed to look was with our luggage in the storage room. Sure enough one of the two bags was there. I went to our room to search our closet for the second bag. It was an unlikely place for it now, but last year it ended up there a lot. The bag was not there. I re-searched the luggage storage which triggered a memory of the second bag being out in the garage near the bikes. Sure enough, there it was.

Watching the process was fascinating. None of it was verbal or logical. I had to see and touch things in order to trigger the necessary memories to direct me where to go. I’ve previously noticed that it is much easier for me to go and get something than for me to describe where it is. This means I tend to jump at the beck and call of my kids who need to find their shoes (which are usually “lost” in plain sight.) I’m trying to make them do more of their own looking, but younger children honestly can not recognize the shape of a shoe if it is half covered by a blanket. The pattern recognition faculties just aren’t sufficiently developed yet.

I think that no matter where I am or what I am doing parts of my brain are cataloging objects and locations against possible future need. This same process will identify anomalies and bring them to my direct attention. I don’t consciously notice shoes scattered on the family room floor. That is normal. But if on of Gleek’s shoes is on the windowsill I notice it enough to wonder why it is there. Then when the kids come to me asking for their shoes, I can tell Gleek exactly where her shoe is, but I’ll have to physically go look for the other ones because I never consciously noted them.

Brains are weird.

We are approaching high pitched Christmas anticipation frenzy as we turn the corner into less-than-one-week-until-Christmas. The kids have been counting and recounting to make sure that they counted correctly. They’ve been counting until our California trip departure. They’ve been counting to Christmas eve. They’ve been counting until Christmas day. They’ve been counting days. They’ve been counting nights. I’ve been trying to tone down the excitement levels. Unfortunately I have not been assisted by the people who left a gingerbread house kit on our doorstep this evening. Now I have Christmas anticipation frenzy with candy and frosting. (Incidentally, if the people leaving 12 days of Christmas on our doorstep happen to read this blog, I’m not really complaining. We’ve received four wonderful gifts now which we have all enjoyed greatly. Thank you very much!)

Speaking of gifts, my kids have all finished their Christmas shopping and wrapped it all. I had to make sure it all got done in plenty of time for me to assess how much stuff needs to be packed into our van for this trip. We all tried to shop for small gifts because we knew we would be traveling. This seems to have worked because I think I can fit it all in. Yesterday I pulled all the gifts out from under the tree and packed them into boxes for transportation. This process was fascinating to the kids. Gleek and Patches in particular watched each package to into the box.

Gleek spent a lot of time poking her packages and speculating about contents. When she was speculating about the package from Patches he thoughtfully announced exactly what was in it. Patches is so excited about giving gifts. He loved wrapping them. He knows that they’re supposed to be a surprise, but he’s so excited about what he is giving that the secrets just kind of slip out. The first time this happened he immediately collapsed into tears because he realized that he’d ruined the surprise. Wonderful Link just looked at tearful Patches and announced that he hadn’t quite heard what Patches said. He then talked out loud pretending to try to figure out what was in the box that Patches had just revealed the contents of. Gleek followed that example when Patches announced her present. Now we just try not to talk about presents in front of Patches. A week is a very long time for a small child to keep an exciting secret.

I have to confess that I’m counting too. 2 more days until we depart. But those two days are going to fly because I have so many things to get done. I am a little stressed about it all. But I’m happy stressed because I’m really looking forward to having an out-of-my house vacation.

My theme song to my children for this morning:

How can I miss you if you won’t go away?
far far away from me.
How can I grieve, if you won’t leave?
And how can I shed a tear, if you’re still here?
Absence makes the heart grow fonder,
so they say.
Let’s see if that old saying still holds true today.
I’ll sadly sigh
as we say goodbye.
I’ll miss you more than words can say,
but how can I miss you if you won’t go away?
So go way my darling and please don’t delay.
And my heart will grow fonder each hour you’re away.

The kids have been in my face this morning, in case you can’t tell. Large portions of my brain have been trying to figure out how I can get away from them and from my house for awhile so that I can be glad to come back and be nice to them. I haven’t figured it out yet, so instead I’ve been playing the above song on my Vocal Point cd. It has been cathartic to sing along.

The other day when I picked Gleek up from school she came running to me and cheerfully announced “I got to go to the principal today! It was fun!” She then began chattering about how she wanted to go again soon. As she chattered my mental wheels were spinning. She’d been sent to the principal’s office because she was sitting in the doorway of her classroom having a crying fit. The last thing I wanted was for her to start throwing regular crying fits so that she could go visit the principal’s office. Her chatter continued and she told me how she got to watch a movie in the principal’s office and she wants to go back so that she can see the rest of the movie. At this point I was wondering what on earth the principal was thinking. He’d apparently turned his office into a garden of earthly delights. Gleek’s chatter shifted and I realized that she was saying that now she didn’t mind about other kids teasing her because she was like Rudolph.

That’s when it all clicked. The principal and the secretaries in the office are brilliant.

Gleek has been having a hard time going to school ever since the day that one of the other kids called her a crybaby. She has been very anxious that she would be teased again. The principal is smart enough to know the difference between true sadness and crying for effect. He took my truly sad Gleek and talked to her. Then once he discovered that teasing was part of the problem, he helped her know how to deal with it by using the section of the Rudolph the Rednosed Reindeer movie where Rudolph gets teased by the other reindeer. He helped her calm down, feel happy, and he gave her tools she can use to be happy on other days.

My fears about misbehavior so that she can go back have completely failed to materialize. Ever since that office trip she has been more cheerful and much more willing to go to school. Once again I’ve been shown how wonderful the administrators at my kids’ school really are. I should probably get them something for Christmas to say thank you.