She Probably Needs To Learn To Just Shut Up

I can neither confirm nor deny that Santa finally caved to that whole American Girl doll thing, but I can confirm that I very nearly gave birth to a cow as I clicked that little "Submit" button on the order. A very large, indignant, holier-than-thou cow. I believe it would have been pink with purple spots and tinged with an aura of disgust. If you had tried to milk it, you would have been met with a bucket of disbelief.

Seriously, people, my inner poor girl wept as I clicked that button. I didn't really know she was still in there, but BAM! she came to the forefront mighty quick as I scrolled down that screen with a $100 doll in my shopping cart. She slapped me across the face as she flashed to all of the things that can be done with $100. She screamed about all the things that have been done with $100 in the past.

$100. That was always the so-called "promised" amount of money that would be spent on back-to-school clothes. Every year all through grade school, I would carefully scrounge around KMart, trying to find the best deals so that I could get the most for the money. My parents would put the items in layaway, and sometimes I would see some of them again the week school started. Sometimes. Sometimes they didn't quite manage to pull the full $100 together and I would have to sacrifice some things. One year not a single thing was released from layaway because the "promised" $100 had to be used to pay the bills.

$100. When I lived in Spain as an exchange student in 1994 (AKA The Dark Ages), I took $700 worth of  spending money with me, intended to last the entire seven months I was to be there. And it did, meaning I managed to keep my expenses under $100 per month. I paid for food (lots and lots and lots of churros con chocolate...mmmmm....) and transportation costs and school books and a trip to Madrid to take the ACTs and toiletries and everything else with that money. It seemed like plenty at the time.

$100. It was my monthly budget my first year of college as well. I used $100 to pay for gas and as "fun money" before I was able to secure a few decent part-time jobs that would work around my full course load. Even then I didn't have much more to work with, but if someone had handed me $100, I would have been able to eat for months with it. Ramen, FTW! (Is it weird that I still love Ramen? Because I definitely do. Oriental flavor, to be precise.)

$100. I can currently buy enough groceries to feed our entire 3-person family for at least two weeks with $100. It's probably closer to three weeks, actually. It's a pleasant side effect to having a household that is 2/3 vegetarian, and a product of my addiction to hunting down coupons as much as possible.

That inner poor girl is all sorts of verklempt over the thought of a $100 doll coming into this house. And not in a good way.

But.

Secretly that inner poor girl is a little proud of the not-so-poor woman she became and the fact that she *can* buy a $100 doll. Even if it is a stupid ridiculous idea.

She's also a little pissed that Santa is going to get all the credit.

If I Had Money To Spend and People To Buy For

I am one of those super-annoying people who is done Christmas shopping long before others have started. Sorry, but it's true. I tend to shop and stash all year long. For example, I have had a Christmas present for Alexis on hand since January of this year. Other than her Santa gift, Alexis has actually been totally done since October when I picked up some new accessories for her dollhouse on clearance.

While my seek and destroy and stash method of Christmas shopping means I get to save lots of money and stress, it also means I sometimes miss out. Maybe it's just my imagination, but I swear the universe knows when I'm done shopping and totally broke because all of sudden, I start finding all sorts of cool stuff. That I won't buy. Because I don't need to.

It kinda sucks.

If I had money to spend right now and were still hunting for Christmas gifts, here's some stuff I'd be trying to get:

Alexis is currently in a hardcore drawing and coloring phase, and her most favorite thing is to fill up a notebook with her art and stories. I think she'd be over the moon if I got her a Fancy Notebook to color in. While I'd be tempted to get her the F Bomb one because HA!, I think the Owl one is probably a bit more appropriate.

I just plain love absolutely everything in this Etsy shop. EVERYTHING. Alexis and the LEGO necklace need to get together at some point in time because ADORABLE! And then I want to buy this one for ever single Star Wars geek I know:

I don't know what the heck that thing is, but it's way fun. (Kidding about the not knowing what it is. Sort of.)

Recently Mr. Husband has been trying to spiffy up his Man Cave. In theory, that can be done without it turning into a massive black hole filled with testosterone and suck, but only if I make sure this thing winds up down there:

I won't be buying it because it's a little too expensive, but I so wish I could. It could go so far in helping to make sure Al Bundy doesn't move into my basement.

To sooth my pain of having a manly man room in the basement, I feel like I deserve some stuff. Er, not really because I'm not spending any more money, but still. If I had money, I'd be buying stuff. Like, this stuff.

I have a very serious addiction to fun camera straps. It just so happens that my favorite one broke the other day, so I think I need a new one. THAT new one.

I also have an addiction to various lens attachments.

I will never spend $1000 on a good quality macro lens because HELLO, I DON'T SPEND $1000 ON GLASS AND PLASTIC, but I would love to. Instead, I settle for less expensive add-ons for the lenses I already have. That 500D 52mm Close Up Lens would make me a happy camper.

This bokeh kit would make me an ecstatic camper:

I have been playing with making my own fancy bokeh things lately (photographic evidence is coming soon), but it takes me FOREVER to get one of my construction paper contraptions just right. $25 would be worth it. You know, if I had money to spend on it.

REALLY high on my I-Don't-Need-It-but-It-Sure-Would-Be-Fun list is this:

I have been collecting Hallmark magic/motion ornaments since 199mumblemubleIamoldshutupandgetoffmylawn, but there are some years that I'm missing. The early ones are the best ones by far because they were nice and simple and generally adorable. Me want that one from 1994. Me no need that one.

And OF COURSE I want this:

I have never quite stopped loving creepy reborn dolls and that one is marvelous! Heh.

(You're welcome.)

It Only Took Me Three Years To Figure This Out

Preschool Christmas Program.

The words strike fear in my heart. They make my head hurt. They fill my soul with dread.

Rightfully so, of course. Our very first experience with the Annual Preschool Christmas Program was something spectacularly short of stellar. When I read the post that I wrote about it, I realize that I must sprinkle glitter and optimism on everything because that crap was WAY worse than anything I said. Way, way, way, way worse.

Every year since has been annoying and frustrating and irritating. Between bobble-headed grandmas in the first row, a severe lack of food, poor timing, sardine-packed rooms, awful weather, and a general desire to beat up everyone who kept me from being able to see my kid while she was on stage, I've never quite managed to have a good time at one of the programs. Most mind-numbingly frustrating has been my complete inability to get so much as *ONE* photo of my kid on stage. Just one! It has never happened.

This year I had a plan. A good one, too.

I planned to leave work early enough to make sure I would be at the fire hall where the program would be happening the very second they opened the doors. I fully intended to be the absolute first person there so that I could tackle the best chair in the place and declare it mine. MINE!

I left work exactly as planned, dashing first to pick up Alexis from school, through the drive thru at McD's so I could shove some dinner down her throat, and then quickly home so I could let the dogs out. It all had to happen quickly if I wanted to stay on schedule.

Um, Miss Megara Madison, the Bulldog born to annoy me, has never heard of this fancy word, "schedule." She's all whhhhhaaaaaaaaaaaat? You arrrrrrrre in a huuuuuurrrrryyyy? Whhhhhhyyyyy?

I have never seen any dog take so freaking long to figure out which blade of grass was most deserving of her poop. I mean, she's generally slow, but this was a whole other level of insanity, especially considering she HATES cold weather and is usually abnormally expedient this time of year. If there is snow outside, odds are I'll have to yell at her not to go in the doorway. Seriously.

All told, Miss Megara Madison, the Bulldog born to annoy me, managed to add twenty unforseen minutes to our stop at home.

Alexis and I barely made it to the fire hall before the Christmas Program start time.

There was no best chair for me to tackle. In fact, there wasn't a single chair anywhere for me to tackle. Every single seat was filled with either a body or a coat (apparently some people have invisible family members or something). Mr. Husband and I took up residence along the back of the room as I stood chatting to another mom who had gotten there too late to sit down.

That mom is a genius. A GENIUS. Just as our kids were about to go on stage, she whispered that she was just going to run up and take a few pictures from the aisle. As she said it, the clouds parted, a bright ray of light shone down on me, and the angels began to sing. I realized that she was on to something, but that there was more I could do.

People, this was our last year of the Preschool Christmas Program. I have suffered through dozens and dozens of rude people jamming their way to the front and making it impossible for little ol' passive me to get a decent photo. It was MY TURN to be one of those clueless rude people. After all, we moved to a different school district than everybody else will be at next fall. I may never see some of those parents again. It was my turn to be a jerk! Woooo!

I totally snuck up to the front of the room, sat on the floor two feet from the stage, and took all the photos that I wanted. It. Was. Marvelous.