Merry Christmas, Everyone!

Christmas

Merry Christmas, ya'll. I'm out until the New Year.

Merry Christmas

Yesterday at the end of the school day, my principal made an announcement to the students. She said, "If you celebrate Hannukah, have a happy Hannukah. If you celebrate Kwanza, have a joyful Kwanza. And, if you are celebrating the birth of the Prince of Peace, merry Christmas!" I work in a public high school, and I don't know if you're really allowed to say "Prince of Peace" in such a place in this day and age. But my principal does a lot of things she maybe shouldn't becuase of what she believes, and usually no one argues with her. So today on Christmas Eve, with far less courage than she has to say such words in a publically funded forum, I wish those of you celebrating the birth of the Prince of Peace a very merry Christmas.

First Holiday Season

Around Thanksgiving time, people started gushing to me and John about how this is our first Thanksgiving together as a married couple. We both usually reacted with questioning glances. What's the big deal? We spent last Thanksgiving together as a couple, too, and nobody gushed over us then. We didn't host Thanksgiving this year, so it was actually quite similar to last year's holiday in that we had to work in both of our families. The only difference this year is that we went to the same house together after the festivities were over. Certainly that in and of itself is not gush-worthy.

But now as Christmas rolls around, I'm starting to understand. I am now finally excited about sharing our first holiday season together as a married couple. I think what makes the difference between now and two weeks ago is that we have decorated the house together. Even though I helped John decorate his tree last year, this year, the tree is mine, too. Thanks to Allison and her mom, we have stockings hanging up as well. And last night we went shopping for a wreath for the door and garland for the banister. We are doing Christmas cards together and we are receiving Christmas cards addressed to both of us. Even though we will still be running from house to house on Christmas Eve and Christmas day just like we did last year, we have now formed our own family unit and we have the decked out house that we both now live in to prove it. Now, I'm gushing over with the excitement that I didn't even understand two weeks ago.

Dance of Desperation

It's Monday morning. I will be doing a snow dance tonight with hopes that a pretty thick blanket will be covering the roads tomorrow so that I can have a day off. I know I'm just coming off of the weekend, but I'm ready for a break already. It's cold outside and it's cold in my office. I am actually going to put my coat back on after I finish typing this. I've been here for 2 1/2 hours, and I've already busted into the chocolate. It looks like it's going to be a high-chocolate month for me with all these crazy kids hovering and fighting and haunting my nightmares. I'm actually hoping that the local meteorologists are underestimating the amount of snow that we will get. I'm wondering if holidays off and finishing work by 3 are worth all this....

Holiday Giving

While I enjoy the holiday season and the good cheer that everyone wants to spread, sometimes I get frustrated that this is the only time of year that a lot of us consider the less fortunate. During this time of year, charitable contributions are at an annual high and churches are more likely to send their members out into the front lines of the inner city. We use this time of year to make up for the rest of the year when we are less generous with our time and money. But the needy are in need all year, not just during December.

Before I continue, let me clarify that I am no better than anyone else in this regard. During the holiday season, I may jump on the serving bandwagon to go deliver food to the homeless, but the rest of the year you will catch me in my climate controlled house rather than walking the streets of DC or Baltimore with food in my hands. I am just as guilty as the majority of turing a blind eye during the non-Holiday time of year, and I am aware of how hypocritical I am in this case.

Wednesday of last week, I was anxious to leave work and go home for the four-day weekend. I did not want to be held up by the family that was supposed to come to my office on Tuesday to pick up the basket of food that the staff had donated to them because of their great need. The closer the hands of the clock crept to 2:30 on Wednesday, the more antsy I was becoming and the less patient I was feeling with waiting for this homeless family to figure out a way to get here. I called the friend's house where the family has been staying. They have no car, so the mother asked another one of her friends to come to collect the food.

At exactly 2:30, this friend showed up. He was in a wheelchair and he could barely speak. But he smiled and took the food, and painfully thanked us for caring. He then wheeled his way across the street to wait in the cold for the bus to take him and the food basket home.

This man stopped me dead in my tracks, stunned at the selfish life that I lead when there are so many who have so little. I am disgusted at my complaints of not having enough when I have so much. I am disgusted at my skill of looking the other way when someone with nothing asks me to spare some change. I have no right to want more when I am not even a good steward of the resources I do have, selfishly squandering them on myself more often than sharing them with others. I'd love to tell you that I have resolved to change my ways and become more generous year-round, but I hesitate to make a promise that I have failed to keep so many times in the past.

Bad Neighbors

John has never handed out candy to his neighbords on Halloween. He tells me he usually turns out all the lights and goes to the basement to watch TV. Since we are now married and living in what was his house, John decided this year that we could do the domestic thing of handing out candy to the little munchkins who came knocking on our door. Since John never gave out candy before, we did not know how many kids we would get. We figured five giant-sized bags of candy from Target should cover us for the evening. We were wrong. We live in a townhouse community with many other young families, and we ran out of candy in 45 minutes. In fact, we ran out in the midde of a group of kids, and we ended up having to give out granola bars to the rest of the kids in the group. We then turned out our lights, but people kept coming. I told John we could start handing out instant oatmeal packs, but instead we fled to his parents' house to escape the madness. Even though we gave out five bags of candy, I was very embarrassed that we ran out before the end of the festivities. To all those families who came later, we look like cheap, unspirited neighbors. Next year, we will have to get at least 12 bags if we're going to make it through the evening.

Nose Bleed

I woke up this morning with a bloody nose. Nothing like the change of season to dry out my sinuses enough to create spontaneous eruptions. I need to go to the doctor and get some real allergy medicine and some sleeping pills. I'm too young to be falling apart like this!

Blue Skies and Hockey Sticks

Autumn is my favorite season. I am envigorated by the crisp mornings and clear-sky, low-humidity afternoons. In Maryland, the low-humidity and bright blue skies provide an unmistakable sign that the sluggish days of summer are coming to an end and that exciting changes are in the air. For those of us in education, the changes include a refreshing and energetic new school year as well as the changes in atmosphere. In the fall, different colors adorn the treetops and different clothes move to the front of the closet.

This year for me, the fall also means coaching field hockey. The primary reason I volunteered to coach this year was not so that I could get to know students on different grounds or so that I could feed my competitve streak; I wanted to coach so that I could be outside. I played field hockey in high school, but I don't remember my team's record as much as I remember being outside every afternoon during this glorious seasonal trasformation. Longing for those couple hours a day when I "had" to be outside is what inspired me to volunteer to coach a sport this fall.

Even knowing why I signed up, when coaching first began this year I found myself drained by the time committment. My lazy Saturday mornings now required me to get up and hold practice when I'd rather be in bed. My weekday evenings have been filled with games and practices that keep me away from my own workout at the gym and impair my adjustment to marriage as well as limiting my social life outside of marriage.

But now, in spite of the time committment, I'm finding joy in this job. My team's record is not outstanding. We're 4 and 2 right now. Loss number 1 was our first game which happened to fall the Tuesday after Labor Day when my team was still half-asleep from the three-day weekend. Loss number 2 came this Saturday during sudden death overtime when the other team scored before us. At the end of that game, my girls were in tears because they so badly wanted to win. We sort of made up for it yesterday with a 12-0 victory over another team.

We have five games left, but regardless of how our record looks at the end of the season, I hope that my girls will take some of the memories with them that I carry with me--memories of blue skies, crisp autumn air, and changing leaves; memories that conjure up feelings of excitement and fun each time fall arrives, even when the game of field hockey itself is a distant memory.