Homeschool plans (Hide the torches and pitchforks!)

I've been thinking about homeschool again. And planning. 'Cause God knows I love planning!! (Seriously, I do!)

We're about 15 weeks into a school year, and will probably follow The Husband's university schedule. That means another 15 weeks of school starting Monday. The Husband is taking vacation during Summer A (May to mid-June) and working during Summer B (late June to mid-August), so we'll take May off with him. Then we'll work the June, July, and part of August until he goes on vacation again. If that makes sense, it means about 40 weeks of school, which is about right. (15 + 15 + 10 = 40)

Whew! Too much math-iness!

Anyway, I've been waiting for The Boy's "natural curiousity" to set in and for him to demand that I start on the nice meteorology curriculum I bought from Beyond the Page. But I'm still waiting. So we're going all institutional-y and teaching him that what-every-fifth-grader-should-know stuff. I even found the Florida edition!

I've picked out 25 weeks of science from the 5th grade McGraw-Hill science book and have laid out enough Story of The World, Ancient Greek History Pockets, and Ancient Rome History Pockets to make up 25 weeks. (Yes, I'm skipping the food web -- if I have to teach that again, I'll scream!!)

The only thing left to decipher is the whole Excellence in Writing curriculum. We finished the Student Intensive A and I think we have to buy another $240 in "continuation course" now. Not sure. All I know is that I don't have time to be a "good" homeschool mom and make up my own lessons. And The Boy really loved the DVD lessons -- that guy is hilarious!

We'll go on with Life of Fred: Decimals and Percents. We'll probably get more serious about the Michael Clay Thomas stuff again, too. Blah, blah. Makes me bored thinking about it.

Well, not bored exactly, but weary. That early-afternoon slump feeling is building behind my brain, and I'm remembering that I have to brush The Girl five times a day, apparently for the rest of my life. Plus do her OT exercises and ballet practice. I swear, that girl is a full-time job. On the other hand, so is The Boy. *sigh* There is no way in Hell that I can succeed against those odds. Maybe lengthening the school year to 40 weeks will help ease the pressure a little.

Fall: 16 weeks (includes a one-week break)

Christmas: 2 weeks

Spring: 18 weeks (includes a two-week break)

Vacation: 4 weeks (the month of May)

Summer: 10 weeks

Vacation: 2 weeks (August)

Yeah, as long as I hide the torches and pitchforks, we'll be juuuust fine.

Still only 40 weeks of school, but doable. Must go lie down now...

Apocalypse Weekend, part tres: The Anticlimax (yay!)

Well, I have to say that this has been one of the best Christmases I can remember. Yeah. I was surprised too.

We got "Santa's" gifts wrapped and were unconscious by 11:30. We stayed that way until, oh, 3:00 when The Girl realized that her favorite PBS station had been dropped by the cable company. Once we put that fire out, I slept until about 6:30, when...

All I could hear was The Boy cautiously exploring the loot with The Husband. "Hey, Santa used our wrapping paper!" Yup. "Hey, I didn't ask for this! That's wrong!" It's okay, boy. Really. "What's in all these boxes?" Dunno, boy. "Can I wake Mom up?" No, boy, not until it's light out. "Hey, I LOVE this." "When's mom getting up?" Not till it's light out. "Mom? Can you get up?" No, hon. Not 'till it's light out.

It was so sweet, listening to them work out how "Santa" did this or that, how this or that got in the house, what we were going to with the new fire pit. I was just laying low, waiting for the volcano. Which never came!

We got people up and opening stuff. The Wii was a big hit. The Girl didn't care about much, but we have photographic evidence of her opening a few things. My dad came over, and I made him bacon and eggs and coffee. The pecan pie was good, as were the other sweets. The tortiere hasn't killed anyone yet. (We left it out overnight! Shh, don't tell anyone!) And I got a nap.

The strange part is that every muscle in my body hurts, especially anything that connects to my shoulders or neck. If you've ever shepherded an asperger's child through the Season of Anticipation and Surprises, you'll know what I mean. If you haven't, just try to imagine someone with the self-control of a three-year-old and the brain of a 10-year-old trying to cover all the possible outcomes of every moment of a day for which you have waited and planned for three months. No pressure.

Anyway, presents were opened. Everyone was appropriately grateful to the ancestors and occasionally genuinely excited about gifts. Pie was eaten. Candy was snarfed. The chicken and potatoes are in the oven with the apple crisp. And all's well with the world. The Lord has been merciful to us, indeed.

Apocalypse Weekend, part dos: Christmas Eve

Well, everyone got dressed and went to 5:00 lessons and carols. The Girl sat in the bell tower alcove with The Husband. He says it was nice to at least be indoors this year. The Boy actually read one of the tiny lessons without complaining. He did make atrocious faces when I tried to take his picture. He's an absolute hoot -- but he's also a loose canon. ;) Pictures to come as soon as I can figure out how to load the camera software again.

The Chinese food was good, hot, and eaten. Dessert was scoffed at and skipped. We're watching The PBS News Hour, and laying low. The Boy swears he's going to bed at 7:30 because the cheap-ass plastic Christmas train says Santa will be here at 8:30. Heh? Oh well. Hopefully it'll be okay.

I have to oversee The Girl's screaming fit/shower, and then I'm pretty much off the clock. That doesn't mean that the kids will bark at me from their beds for two hours, but technically, I'm off the clock.

I may have a few presents to wrap, but I'm not sure, really. The Husband will let me know, I'm sure...

Tomorrow, I have to put out goodies, make some breakfast (eggs, bacon, etc.), and let the kids open stuff. That shouldn't sound ominous, right?

Apocalypse Weekend, part uno: Birthday

Well, we've kicked off Apocalypse Weekend with a bang.

Naturally, The Royal Birthdays are today, so we started on our usual pilgrimage: beach, lunch at Grandmother's, and home. Sounds easy, right?

We told the kids that it was too cold to swim at the beach this year, and The Boy reluctantly agreed. We decided to go walking on the beach in shorts and take some pictures. Apparently, The Girl really didn't grasp our meaning until we were set to leave. Then she started the screaming for a swim suit. We loaded everyone up in the car and the screaming died down -- until we got to the beach when it started again full volume.

Remember that trip to the Pioneer Village? Yup, only this time, it was The Girl who tried to claw her eyes out until we removed her from the living hell that we call a gorgeous fall day at the beach. Really, it was beautiful -- sunny, breezy, brisk -- all the things you could ask from Christmas Eve at the beach. And The Girl couldn't get back into the car fast enough. I'll try to post some pictures of her torment.

Lunch went pretty well. I'm assuming that the children won't go bow-legged before the holidays are over, so eating potato chips for lunch probably won't kill them. Right? The home-made ice cream cake with crushed Oreo filling was delicious. The presents were all met with approval, even exultation in some cases. The adults went and talked in the living room while the kids hung out in the back bedroom. All was well. The Holiday Gods were smiling on us again. Until The Boy threw it all up. Most of it made it to the bathroom. The Husband and I scrubbed the rest of it out of the carpet. What do they dye those Oreos with anyway?

So, we're home and that grating sound is our shifting gears from Birthday into Christmas Eve. The husband mysteriously disappeared immediately after we got home to go to Target. I'm not sure what it means, but I'm too tired to care. Hopefully it won't be too expensive. And there's an outside chance that he's buying something for moi. A girl can dream, right?

We'll be heading to chapel around 4:30 for more eye-gouging from The Girl, then for Chinese take-out, which The Boy will only pick at. He won't part with the tradition, but he won't eat it either. I think it's like falling in love with love. Not sure. Wish us luck!!

It's ALIVE!

Aah, the sweet smell of a laptop! It's back and I'm LOVING it!

The Day of Doom is almost upon us, and the birthdays are tomorrow. I am about as ready as I'm going to get. I have to stack ice cream cakes for the birthdays and umm, something else I can't remember, but mostly, I'm about as ready as I'm going to get. Which may not be as ready as I need to be.

I bailed on the playgroup/cookie exchange this year. It's only supposed to be regular Wednesday playgroup, but the last one before Christmas always turns into a cookie swap. Which I'm never prepared for. So for me, it's more like a cookie grab. Tacky yes. It was a gorgeous day, but I couldn't get anyone to go with me to playgroup, and it seemed pitiful to go alone. If you know what I mean. "I have no children or gifts. Can you give me some? Cookies, not kids?"

The Boy is frantic with anticipation. He is preparing for The Day with a red-hot fervor. His head may spontaneously explode at any moment. He informed me half an hour ago that he can't sleep -- he needs a haircut. I told him to get the heck back in bed before I do something desperate. I swear.

The Girl is taking this all with her usual equanimity. Which translates into, "She doesn't have a clue that she's supposed to be breathlessly anticipating presents and/or the Magic of Christmas." Sad, but helpful. I'm keeping her up to date on what is happening on what day, but she's not in full-on Christmas-present mode, like some people I could name. Boychild.

Funny thing happened today. True story. I got a present/package in the mail that said it was from "PA Shelton". Now, assume that my maiden name is Shelton. What would you think? I thought that was pretty weird, considering my father would never call himself "PA" Shelton. I also thought it was strange because my father had already gotten me to buy the kids' Christmas presents for him. Strange. Hmm. Maybe he's losing his mind and sending me Hickory Farms for no apparent reason. OR. Yeah, or it's from my brother in Pennsylvania -- PA Shelton, as opposed to my father who is FL Shelton. Ooooohhh. The Sheltons in Pennsylvania. My brother.

Now, there's a good chance that you don't find this funny, but when I read the package label to my mother, she was as baffled as I was. My usually-dignified father had started calling himself "PA"? When I finally explained it, she almost peed herself laughing. It was worth the phone call. It may not, however, be worth the summer sausages... For what it's worth, my brother and his wife didn't think it was funny at all. Whatevah.

So I hope everyone has a good, umm, day. I'll be trying to keep the birthday presents in a separate bin from the Christmas ones and trying to manage expectations. Wish me luck.

And just for fun, I'm passing on a really great post that Suburban Correspondent had posted. Enjoy!

Christmas is indeed coming...

Well, it's about time to update my profile again -- the twins are turning 11 on Friday. I should be panicked over their impending teenage years, but frankly, I'm just too drained over their 'tween years right now to really care. I guess we'll see.

The Girl sprained her ankle on Friday, tromping around the yard in a pre-bicycle-riding happydance. Poor little thing. She still couldn't walk on it by the next morning, so I took her to the pediatric urgent care center. It's not broken, and just as I was hoping that it would slow her down a little for the holidays, it's not. She's up hobbling around, wrecking the place. She discovered the two Christmas presents under the tree that The Boy made me wrap early. Man, was she pissed when I wouldn't let her keep the one she opened. At least it was hers, though. Very thoughtful of her.

We're on Christmas break right now, along with The Husband whose semester ends tomorrow with graduation. This means, of course, it's time for mom to get out and have some fun. My mammogram is Tuesday. I would go get more teeth ground down, but the dentist is on vacation until January 10. I hope the temporary crowns hold out that long. I also have a strange cyst on my wrist that has to go -- it's starting to affect my blogging. Maybe I can slip it in after the other appointment.

So. A week to go before It's All Over. I feel a strange sense of suspension. The gifts are bought, except my mom's. Some are wrapped. I even bought my dad's presents for the kids, and have to wrap them as well. The tree is (finally) up, but I need four C batteries for the God-awful train. I'm making mostly candies this year, but I won't be making them until Thursday. I'm making a vain attempt on a small present for the sisters-in-law, but I'm not sure it'll come together. I usually send the Christmas cards out between Christmas and New Years, with a Christmas photo at the beach. But, aside from cleaning the house, there's nothing urgent going on.

We'll do the usual Christmas crazy dance. Here's how it goes:

Friday morning, we'll pack up The Birthday, put on our swimsuits, and go to the beach. (As usual, it'll be high tide again this year! What are the odds?!) We'll take the usual photos, play in much-too-cold salt water for a while, then go to my mom's. After a quick shower in the back yard (brr!) we'll have hot dogs and birthday cake with birthday presents. Mid-afternoon, we'll head home, change clothes, and go back out for the 5:00 children's chapel service. After chapel, we'll call in our Chinese food order and pick it up on the way home. After eating too much garlic, the kids'll get pajamas on, watch a DVD, and go to bed. Sometime around midnight, The Husband and I will pack it in and go to bed. And that's just the Christmas Eve dance. If you hear a grinding noise around 4:00 pm Friday, it'll be us, shifting gears.

Christmas morning, we just open presents, eat, and lie around. My parents come to hang out and eat quiche, fruit salad, pie, cookies, and candy throughout the morning. My dad comes around 9:00 and leaves as my mom shows up around 11:00. Once everyone leaves, I go back to bed because I feel like vomiting.

This is where I usually put in the "oh well, life is good" line, so give me a minute. We're indoors, well-fed, secure in our income, and happy. Life is truly good. This Christmas, too, will pass.

Ooh. Time for a "real" field trip!

Brr. Cold here. The solar hot water heater froze up last night. Seriously, we had to disconnect it from the hot water heater in order to bathe this morning. They had melted by 8:00, and nothing looks broken. All's well that ends well. Tomorrow morning is supposed to be in the 40's. Better.

Ooh. Today was our big field trip today. We went to the old Pioneer Village today for a Christmas craft day. I personally love the place. The old buildings, the school, the barns, the animals -- they all transport me back to the 1800's. (Yes, "pioneer" only goes back about 150 years here, at least in terms of Protestant, English-speaking, American people.) I always get a sense of real history under my feet there.

It's a surreal experience to be in a place (or book) and become so engrossed that you suddenly realize that you're still where you started and not somewhere else. I like it. Most people like it. Sadly, places and books that transport a person really scare the piss out of The Boy. He started the trip by getting carsick in the parking lot. Then the complaining started, along with the rude, defiant comments. He initially refused to go in the building with the group. Assuming that he was just being difficult and controlling, and that he'd enjoy it once he got inside, I made him go. When he burst into tears in the classroom, I figured it was time to make a break for it. Seriously, I was pretty sure he'd get over it and have a good time. But no.

Happily, the farm part was outdoors, so The Girl and I went and visited the chickens, sheep, goats, peacocks etc. The dude that was doing the outdoors presentation was really cool. His oldest kid is about 45, so he's about my mom's age. He's been a farmer or rancher most of his life, part of it in Colorado. Cool. We got to hear about all the animals. All the sheep had twins last spring, and one is expecting now. He says she'll lamb on the coldest full moon of the winter. I don't know how they know, but I'm betting he's right. We couldn't get too slobbery because all the water pipes for washing up were frozen. Yayy. The Boy wasn't going anywhere near the animals, but he was content to hang around long enough for The Girl to check them all out.

The day had turned nice by 10:45, so after visiting the vegetable gardens, we all headed home. At least I got to see the farm, The Girl enjoyed the animals, no one threw up in the car. I'm not sure it was really a $15 petting zoo, but I've done worse.

Ballet and Birthday Pie

Well, I took The Girl to see the Nutcracker last night. It went just a little better than I expected. Let's say it was a good thing that it was a local cheap ballet; otherwise the people around us would have been pissed at the chattering. She hid behind her jacket most of the time, but when the music changed, she would peek out to see what just came onstage. All in all, I think she liked it.

The OT has us doing "brushing" right now, and I think it's helping. Basically, every three hours, I have to brush her arms, legs, and back, and compress her arm and leg joints. It's a little like getting a massage five times a day. No wonder she's mellowed out. I know I would be. Still, the things we do for love, eh?

The Husband's birthday was today. We really hadn't planned to do all that much partying for it, as he's a pretty mellow individual. We ended up having Michael Angelo's veggie lasagna and an apple pie. The Boy decided that the shirt and khakis that The Husband bought himself last week would NOT be a good birthday present. (That's usually how we work it -- your own birthday present must be presented to the spouse by close of business on the Wednesday before your birthday weekend. Present will be wrapped by excited children, and you must act surprised and happy when you open it.) I had already bought my dad a Whitman's chocolate sampler for Christmas, so that was the emergency birthday present. In case you were wondering, you should NEVER put birthday candles in an apple pie. Why? The candles melt right into the hot apple filling. WHO KNEW?!

Of Dentists and Christmas sweaters...

Thanks for the encouragement! The dentist didn't go too badly. The first thing she did was to ask, "You understand what we're doing today, right?" I said, "Yeah, you're going to grind down two of my teeth to stumps and glue fake ones on." She says, "Yeah. I guess so." ;)

The saving grace was that I charged my iPod shuffle and loaded up some fun Jack Johnson music. Every time she got out the God-awful grinder, I just cranked the volume up again. You have to check out that link for Jack Johnson. He's also the man who did all the music on the last Curious George movie. It's hip, catchy, and really relaxed. I mean, the man grew up on the north shore of Oahu. He should be.

Anyway, the laptop's still broken, so I'm sitting in the not-so-comfortable desk chair, trying to type on a really clunky keyboard. And it's cold over here by the sliding glass doors. Brr. And speaking of cold -- brr! It's gone below freezing twice this week, and we're due for another cold shot on Monday or Tuesday. This is seriously cutting into my gloating time.

But the silver lining is that I could wear my sequined sweater to The Husband's office party. Yup, I propped my old dad in front of the TV and left the kids with him for three hours. I know, it doesn't sound like a really good idea, but they're almost eleven years old, so I figured it'd be okay. That was the story I had prepared for Child Welfare anyway. Naturally, The Girl took that exact moment to realize that even though I had taken her to the grocery story after the Hair Cuttery (the proper sequence), I had failed to buy cheese at the deli. Hell hath no fury like a girl denied Land O Lakes white American cheese, sliced thickly. To make a long story short, it all worked out, and I have to go get out of this sequined sweater and have it washed for Christmas Eve. Ironically, it's not very warm. Life. Meh.

more "good" news...

Well, the laptop is toast. It's still breathing, but it's in a coma. I have the repair disk I made when we got it. I have the restoration disks that I made at the same time. Neither seems to be able to resuscitate it. *sigh*

And if that's not enough fun, tomorrow I'm having two teeth ground down to stumps so they can glue fake tops on them next week. Yayyy. I am unreasonably unhappy about this. UNHAPPY.

Just Sunday, sliding in to Christmas vacation...

Well, I'm done Christmas shopping. Yeah. You heard me. Done. Me and my laptop are D-O-N-E. I'm loving it. ;) I had to clear $50 at Hearthsong to get cheap shipping, so I bought me a calligraphy set. Pretty...

Nothing much else is going on. Today was breakfast at church day, so The Boy and I ate bacon, "eggs", and grits, and then killed an hour before church started. He's gotten so tall, I hardly recognize him across the church yard. We remembered our Angel Tree presents, so that's check-o-la. Then we went home, had a snack and slept for two hours. I think the (mythical) Billingsly family may have given us a cold or something.

Either way, I avoided doing any housework today. Hey, it's kept this long, it'll keep a few more days. That's my story, and I'm sticking to it.

We have our shopping done. I have only my two and my brother's three kids, plus The Husband, my parents, and a few stray aunts. We found these nifty ball point pens that you put a picture in. Those will do nicely as at least part of the aunts' presents. My father is getting a t-shirt that says, "History Buff. (I would find you more interesting if you were dead.)" Yeah, you wonder where I get my sense of humor? I'm sure I'll have more grousing to do about my mother's present, but the high-stakes kid presents are d-u-n.

Anyway, it's Sunday evening again. Time for Doc Martin and some mild panic that I have to drive to The Big City tomorrow. If I could get the kids to turn off the TV for six hours a day, I'd give them a couple of weeks off. I guess that's coming soon enough, eh?

Before then, though, I have to have my teeth cleaned, get a mammogram, and go to a meeting at Learning Rx. I have ballet tickets for The Girl and me, and The Husband and I are going to a concert. We have an office party on Friday. Soon enough, though. Soon.

Wherein I am the Grinch. Seriously.

So, today I put up the outdoor lights. For Florida, it's a pretty darned tasteful display. We have some icicle lights over the garage door, a 7-foot-tall rope-light palm tree by the front door, and some bush netting over the shrubs. Voila. Merry stinkin' Christmas.

Yeah, my attitude toward Christmas hasn't improved yet. That'd probably require Vallium, a much more quick-acting drug. But at least I think I've figured out one of the things that really honks me off about Christmas. And I've made a new rule:

Persons using any form of the word "magic" with any form of the word "Christ" in the same sentence gets slapped.

Really -- magic and Christ? I think that gets you excommunicated in some parts of the world. Like Italy, maybe. I hope.

"This is the Magic of Christmas!" "Make this Christmas magical!" "Come see the magic at Christmas World!"

There's no way I'm pulling anything magical out of my not-so-magical... ear... this year. Or any other year, for that matter. I'll go through the motions and help The Husband with the Usual Festivities, but my heart's not in it.

"The Grinch hated Christmas, the whole Christmas season..."

Christmas Survey...

Well, as the prozac is starting to kick in, I thought I'd give Sunnyview's holiday question list a try.

Keep in mind that I basically hate Christmas, and my husband is in charge of making sure the children aren't traumatized by my behavior.

See, Christmas was a religious holiday when I was growing up. We were always in the pageant. We always had new church dresses. We always had an Advent wreath. My mother played carols on the piano for us. We had one real tree decorated in (extremely hot) colored lights and different-shaped, colored, frosted glass balls. (My favorite had Snoopy etched on it!)

We had plenty of presents, but my mother didn't feel the need to make it a Perfect Childhood Memory for us. In fact, I remember going back to school after Christmas break in 7th grade and having a classmate ask me what I got for Christmas. I couldn't remember anything I got in particular, yet I knew I had gotten presents and I had had a great Christmas. It was a puzzlement for me.

So here goes.

1. Hot chocolate or eggnog? Neither. I like "dark chocolate truffle" flavored coffee. It's a calorie thing. I've tried eggnog in the coffee, and it just doesn't work as well as you'd think.

2. Does Santa wrap presents or just sit them under the tree? The Husband decreed years ago that Santa does not wrap, so no, Santa does not wrap. Hey, what do I care? I'm easy!

3. Colored lights on tree/house or white? Again, The Husband likes colored, as do my Philistine children, so my white lights went a long time ago. Outdoors, we still have white -- mostly because I have to put them up!

4. Do you hang mistletoe? You gotta be joking. I won't even have holly or poinsettia in the house since I brought the kids home. Those nuts will put anything in their mouths. When I lived in New England, I always put real pine garland over the doorways to make it smell good! I got a whiff at Lowe's last week, and it stopped me in my tracks.

5. When do you put your decorations up? The Husband's birthday is December 13, so we wait to put the tree up until after that. The outdoor ones go up about a week before that. I'm from an Episcopalian family, and we still like to think that Christmas starts on the 25th and runs for 12 days -- through Epiphany.

6. What is your favorite holiday dish? How much time ya got? Seriously, I've really started to avoid high-calorie, high-sugar foods since I lost my 20 pounds last year. There isn't any food that I have to have in order to make it officially Christmas. If I had my choice, I'd give up all the cookie baking in favor of making peanut brittle, no-bake cookies, toffee, and vanilla-mint bark. I like making candy!

We don't do a Christmas meal, per se, but we have a Christmas morning brunch. Mostly, my dad comes over around 9:00, eats some quiche, bisquick-sausage balls, and pecan pie. He opens his presents, and leaves before my mom gets off from church. She arrives around 11:00, eats fruit salad, quiche, and stuffed dates and opens a present or two. Then we're on our own.

I also found out from The Boy that one of his favorite Christmas things is having Chinese food on Christmas Eve. We call it in from the parking lot of the church after children's mass, and pick it up on the way home. It's usually dark before we get home, so we drive once around the block to see the lights. Nice.

7. Favorite Christmas memory as a child? The Christmas pageant at church. My sister and I were always readers or in the choir. I can probably still recite the entire thing from memory. "...but Mary kept all these things and pondered them in her heart." Ooh, and for some reason, I remember my mom playing with the warm wax on the advent wreath candles after dinner. I guess it was an excuse to sit and talk after dinner. We liked the excuse to take the time to sit with her and chat.

8. When and how did you learn the truth about Santa? I remember we found the doll boxes in the trash one year, and my mom half-heartedly tried to support the Santa lie. I wasn't disappointed, as I remember it.

9. Do you open a gift on Christmas Eve? Nope. Christmas starts on the 25th.

10. How do you decorate your Christmas tree? I just found out that The Boy likes our ratty preschool-made ornaments. I hate 'em. But mob rule persists, and we keep putting them up. It's not about me. :)

11. Snow! Love it or Dread it? Love it. Don't get any, but love it. I grew up in the mid-Atlantic states, so 40 degrees and raining meant Christmas to me. (Sometimes when it's cold and the streets are wet, I still have flashbacks.) Most of my adult life, I lived in New England, so that meant snow. Either way!

12. Can you ice skate? Yes. The Husband and I went skating on the Rideau Canal in Ottawa quite a bit BC (before children). We skated the entire eight miles and slept it off in the Chateau Laurier. Ahh.

13. Do you remember your favorite gift? I got a gorgeous coat when I was 11, and still remember it.

14. What’s the most important thing about Christmas for you? Music. Good music. And handmade chocolates. Give me Harry Connick's Christmas album, Loreena McKennett's Christmas albums, and the King's College choir, and leave me be.

The church here doesn't do a children's pageant, nor do they play any music written before the year 2000, so church isn't the cornerstone of our celebrations that it could be. We do choose three presents from the church's Angel Tree to buy and wrap. We like doing that. The high school band comes around with their luminaria to sell, so we donate to that, too. We try to give to the local charities as we can, and donate our outgrown bicycles to the firemen. The Christmas parades here in Florida are really nice, and we usually catch the boat parade afterward on the river.

15. What is your favorite holiday Dessert? Buche de Noel. My mother used to make it. I think the icing is half butter and half chocolate. And the cake is half icing, so that's a good thing.

16. What is your favorite Christmas tradition? The Advent wreath. Until last year, we always sang "Oh come, oh come" and lit the candles before grace at dinner. Last year, The Girl threw a complete freak out, so we're not doing it anymore. Maybe next year. Or the year after that.

17. What tops your tree? Gold star. Call me a cynic (CYNIC!) but those angels look like they have a tree up their butts.

18. Which do you prefer giving or receiving? We were never into getting or giving TONS at Christmas. It makes me nervous to give, as the gift usually isn't as good as something they'd buy themselves, and none of us can really afford to spend the money anyway. Seriously, I feel like I spend $50 on a gift for my dad that he doesn't really like, and he spends $50 on a gift for me that I don't really like. It's like spending $50 on something for myself that I don't really like. Who needs that? We don't send Christmas presents to anyone outside the immediate family unless they're under 12 years old. I don't mind giving those -- they're the only part I like! We have a four-year-old and twin 9-month-olds. That's pretty easy and fun.

19. What is your favorite Christmas Song? "In the Bleak Midwinter" is lovely, soft thing. I used to sing The Coventry Carol to my son when he was colicky. There were days when Herod could have had that one. ;)

20. Candy Canes: Yuck or Yum? Yum -- crushed and stirred into white chocolate, allowed to cool, and broken into bark.

21 Favorite Christmas Show? The Christmas Story, hands down. It cracks me up! I never liked Rudolph. I'm sorry, but those people are creepy looking.

22. Saddest Christmas Song? Gotta be the shoe song. But yesterday, I heard a song about a terminally ill child having Christmas in October before he died. That one sucked, too. And I hate "Dominick the Christmas Donkey" That one makes me flip the channel before that sucker gets stuck in my head. Again.

23. What’s your Wish for Christmas? Peace. In my house. In my country. In the world. Oh, and a new pencil sharpener.

Still waiting for that prozac to kick in completely. I'll let you know how it goes. In the mean time, try this. It is the essence of what I love about Christmas.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nYmrUmRsATI