Does a collection a collector make?

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I don't fancy myself a collector. I used to collect bells, but haven't gotten a new one in years and consider that collection closed. And I sort of collect books. Well, not so much collect as accumulate. I'd never consider myself a true book collector, by any means.

Despite not seeing myself as a collector, those who view my holiday decor may very well think otherwise, may possibly consider me a collector. Of Santas.

Somehow I've ended up with quite a few Santas. A collection of Santas. Something I never intended to happen. After recently watching a news story of one grandma -- an old grandma, as in 97 years old -- and her collection of hundreds of Santas, my collection has me worried I've entered territory typically reserved for collectors of Avon fragrance bottles and salt-and-pepper shakers.* And that makes me feel old.

I must admit though that, age be cussed, I do enjoy putting out for the holiday season all the festive fellas I've collected accumulated.

There's these ...

And these ...

And these ...

Plus these merry men on the tree ...

(Okay, I admit those tree guys don't look so merry.)

I even have a Santa cutting board ...

I bought a few of the Santas above myself ... I'd say three, maybe. The rest have been given to me -- by friends, family, former employers. As you can see, their gifts have created quite a display, quite a collection.

So does my collection of Santas make me a Santa collector? You be the judge. But in your assessment of me and my Santas, you better be nice ... because Santa's watching!

*Nothing against collecting such things, they're just not for me. At all.

Holiday question of the day:

What theme figures most prominently in your holiday decor collection? Angels? Snowmen? Santas? Something unique and unexpected?

The stockings are hung ...

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Last week I knocked out a few holiday chores. So, yes, the stockings are now hung. And I have the wreaths up, the garland on the banisters and railings and porch, the tree done, the village up and running, the nativity scene arranged, and the box for Megan, Preston and Brayden dropped off at UPS for Tuesday delivery.

With all that I've accomplished, I'd like to think I'm pretty close to being ready for Christmas. But I'm not. I still have much to do this coming week, including:

1. Bake 14 dozen cookies for Saturday's annual family cookie swap.

2. Buy one more gift for Jim.

3. Buy one more gift for Andrea.

4. Buy two more gifts for Brianna.

5. Make the food gifts I'm giving friends and family.

6. Buy the gifts for Abby, Isabel, Mickey and Lyla ... aka "the animals."

7. Wrap all the gifts. (We still have zero gifts under the tree.)

8. Do the Christmas cards.

9. Watch Love, Actually, Joyeux Noel, While You Were Sleeping, and White Christmas in its entirety (I've only caught snippets on AMC). Without these, it surely doesn't feel like Christmas.

And how many of those things do you really think I'll be able to check off my list this week? Considering the procrastinator I am, I'm pretty sure I'll only get through No. 1 (thanks to the drop-dead deadline of Saturday), accomplish bits and pieces of Nos. 5 and 7, and possibly knock out one of the four flicks in No. 9.

Nos. 2, 3, 4, 6 and 8? Well, let's be honest here: Why do today this week what can be put off til tomorrow next week?

Photo credit: stock.xchng

Holiday question of the day?

How much of your holiday to-do list do you have left to do?

Conflicting wishes

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Bubby visited Santa over the weekend. Last year, he clung to Daddy and refused to enjoy his time with Mr. Magical himself. This year, though, he did much better:

Despite being nervous about the visit -- hence the hand in the mouth -- Bubby did okay. He even managed to tell Santa what he wants for Christmas.

And what may that be?

A big orange truck!

Which comes as a surprise considering Bubby, as some of you may recall, already has a big orange truck: (BLOG REDESIGN DELETED THE VIDEO.)

I suppose at two-and-a-half-years-old, when you love something dearly, you have no qualms requesting more of the same.

Hopefully Bubby will forget all about having asked for a big orange truck once he sees all the other loot from Santa because I'm betting he won't find one under his tree come Christmas morning. One big orange truck is more than enough for one little boy.

Plus, I'm pretty sure poor Roxy -- who's often the unintentional hit-and-run doggy victim of the big orange truck -- has been fervently asking Santy Paws to make all her Christmas dreams come true ... by getting rid of Bubby's big orange truck and never again allowing such tools of terror to be added to Bubby's toy collection.

Holiday question of the day:

What's one thing you're hoping to find under the tree for yourself on Christmas morning?

Uncharted waters

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We did it. Jim and I made it through our first time decorating the Christmas tree as empty-nesters. Meaning, we did it alone. Just the two of us.

After 28 years of tree-trimming being a loud, festive, family event, this year there were no little ones hanging eight ornaments in a space meant for three. No kiddos closing their eyes and holding out their hands awaiting presentation of the annual new ornament from Mom. No more jokes about the carrot, the pickle, the Russian Santa. No more surly teens swearing under their breath at one another as I ask if they could please just get along so we can get the tree done without someone crying. And no more girls home from college for the holiday and savoring the family time they'd missed while away.

This year, the ornaments are evenly spaced, there was no surliness, and there was no swearing. There were, though, a few tears. From me.

This is a huge milestone and not one I hoped to reach so soon. In fact, I hoped to never reach it at all. I hoped that even once my girls were grown and gone, there would be tree-trimming parties. That I'd have my daughters, their partners, my grandchildren running all about as Christmas music played and they clamored for this ornament or that. All the while we'd be sharing memories of holidays and tree-trimmings past.

But it wasn't to be. Not even close.

Maybe next year things will be different.

Or maybe next year will be the same. But at least having been through it this year, it won't feel so darn empty and strange.

Holiday question of the day:

What is your favorite ornament on your Christmas tree?

Mom 2.0 redux

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Not too long ago, I wrote a post called Mom 2.0 better than Mom 1.0 highlighting nine ways Megan (Mom 2.0) has outdone her mother (me, Mom 1.0). Well, she's gone and done it again -- taken what I've taught her and bumped it up a notch.

Consider this post reason No. 10 why Mom 2.0 is better than Mom 1.0.

As many of you know, Megan and Preston hosted our Thanksgiving gathering this year. Megan has never prepared the Thanksgiving meal and has only once cooked a turkey by herself. Yet she took it upon herself to do something I have never done, something I had previously never even heard of: Megan brined the Thanksgiving turkey.

And I must admit, it turned out to be the most delectably moist and flavorful turkey I think I've ever had.

Megan soaked the turkey in a savory solution for a day or so. Then she seasoned it well (before taking off for the Turkey Trot, I might add).

She baked it and basted it and recruited Preston for the heavy lifting of the 20-pound tom in and out of the oven.

Once roasted to golden perfection, Preston carved the bird -- his first time ever charged with Thanksgiving carving duty.

What a turkey! What a team!

Yes indeed, Mom 2.0 once again improves upon Mom 1.0. And it's only right to throw in a few props for Dad 2.0 (Preston) for doing the carving honors -- something Dad 1.0 (Jim) has yet to attempt.

In light of the savory success of Megan's turkey brining, I'm thinking about trying out the method soon myself. I just so happen to have a spare turkey in the freezer, happily waiting to be brined and baked.

And maybe -- just maybe -- Jim will be happily waiting to try out carving the bird himself once it's done.

These kids of mine continually amaze me. I thought I was the one who was supposed to be teaching them a thing or two, yet they've been pretty darn good so far at teaching me a thing or two. For starters, that soaking a turkey in salt water really does make it more moist.

And that it really is possible to run a 5k in the morning and still get Thanksgiving dinner on the table by early afternoon. Doing both while pregnant.

Did I mention that my kids continually amaze me?

Today's question:

What's something you've learned from one you're more typically in charge of teaching (a child, grandchild ... pet?)?