Remember last year when I told you about January Cookies? Well, today January Presents showed up! We exchanged presents with my Cousin Courtney (Cousin is a proper noun in this family!) when she showed up unexpectedly on January 14. I loved it. Of course, it helped that Courtney wrapped the presents in gold and white chevron. It felt more stylish and current than Christmas paper would have felt. It was as if our presents already realized their New Year’s Resolution and had a makeover!

So two things: 1) January Presents are fine by me! It really helps to have flexible deadlines on some items during the holidays, 2) if you take your decorations into January, paring down your décor to golds and silvers is a great way to go.

And finally, an update on January Cookies bit.ly/1ycJ3V3 . Daughter #2 informed me they were a complete failure, and she didn’t want to go that route again. She didn’t mention that last year when she was dipping them in milk…

I love Brenna’s sixth grade teacher! I thought this was the most amazing gift that she gave to every student in the class. According to Brenna, it started like this: Mrs. L. wrote each student’s name on a blank sheet of paper. Then the paper was passed around the classroom and the students wrote down positive thoughts they had about that particular person. Nobody was allowed to see what anyone wrote about them. Mrs. L. later took all the words and organized them around the students’ names in bright colors (and I ran out of time with my holiday to –do list!) Finally, Mrs. L. framed the final product and gave them to the students, who by this time were sufficiently excited to see what was written.
(Read: they were out of their minds).

Brenna loved this gift. It was the gift of confidence from an adult outside her family. She sat quietly looking at it, and later explained the project to us, often mentioning just who wrote what. Can you imagine if you got a gift like that? In addition to fostering a child’s self- worth, Mrs. L. created such a neat atmosphere in the classroom, where the air was filled with everything that was great about each of the students. Maybe this should be mandatory in every work place! (Just kidding, right wing readers).

Imagine what happens now if each parent hangs this present in the student’s home?
Of course, we promptly placed on the mantle where it became part of the decorations

Yes, this is a Christmas Pyramid, or the closest thing we could get to it in the Burke house. The need for this architectural feat was revealed to me after a week of insane work travel with only hours to the deadline. (In retrospect, I was lucky I got the few extra design hours).

The scope of the project was revealed slowly, and I was lured into a sense that all was ok on the home front. I’d been away. They’d survived. Somehow everything was handled, except getting stuff together for the pyramid. Really? The Christmas Pyramid? Somehow that was left for me.

It didn’t sound awful at first, just annoying. Everyone had to bring in something to decorate the pyramid. Brenna’s class was learning about Egypt and instead of decorating gingerbread houses, Mrs. L’s class was going to decorate pyramids. Hurray for Mrs. L! She makes learning fun. I was exhausted, but what did I need to run out and pick up?

Uh, the pyramid? Well, what are the other kids bringing in? Heshey Kisses, gum drops, icing. Hershey kisses, gum drops, icing, and WE GOT PYRAMID? I looked at her face, and I just knew. You signed up for pyramid? You didn’t!!! She did.

My heart should have been warmed that she thought I could do it. That I would want to do it. But, it wasn’t. (Then at least.) Instead, like a scene from ‘Nam, flashes went through my head: ten cups cooked macaroni revealed at 7am same day they were due (Maeve in second grade). Four dozen cinnamon brownies for Spanish class (Maeve, 10th grade). Empanada dish (J., 7th grade). Pineapple smoothies (made to order no less in class, Brenna 4th grade) Four dozen cinnamon brownies (J., 9th grade) —wait didn’t I make these Spanish brownies already? Or was I so good at it, I got assigned them again?

So here’s the deal, as you can see in the time span of the above examples, kids don’t really get the hang of giving you notice on when to bring things in. And, they don’t make these things themselves. It doesn’t get better: “The teacher just told me! I forgot! College hinges on it! Please, I’m trying to make friends. Everyone wants empanadas!” You get the idea.

What I’ve learned to do is to accept. Lord, grant me serenity for the things I cannot change. Yup, this is a childhood disease. I don’t know one mom friend who’s kid doesn’t have it. Also, if the whole class is bringing something in, don’t pay attention to the quantities. Whatever the first batch yields, that’s it. No matter what the assignment says. (trust me, half those cinnamon brownies will be back, but your containers won’t). And ask if they are actually going to eat it. Something makes me think those Egyptian pyramids might have gone up with hot glue…

This really happened, but it was a couple of years ago. Let’s say it’s not easy to forget. I was given a pair of car reindeer antlers by an adoring daughter who was sure she got me the perfect gift. I, gulp, put them on my car. Because it was the perfect gift. I was not breaking any hearts that Christmas.

If you have seen them, I’m referring to the kit that comes with a red nose for the center of your car’s grill, and two antlers that clip to the roof of your car. In under three minutes, my car was transformed into a mobile reindeer. Not your vision of motherhood? Just wait.

The first time I took my reindeer car out, of course, I was driving the kids somewhere. They loved it! And almost immediately, a strange occurrence. There was no driving stress for me. Drivers of reindeer cars don’t cut people off, or get annoyed at other drivers. In fact, drivers of reindeer cars let people in, yield and wave to other drivers, drive slowly. They enjoy the ride. I’d love to say the kids stopped fighting, but this isn’t a fantasy. Just us running around town, sporting a red nose and antlers.

With the kids in your car, you can just shrug your shoulders, and give other drivers that “what are you gonna do” look. But, the first time you drive a reindeer car without your kids – that’s a bit of an unnerving experience. Still, it’s too much of a hassle to take them on or off. You convince yourself, “I’m a grown up. I can drive a reindeer car.” You remind yourself of this the first time you stop to put gas in your reindeer car.

A funny thing happens when you drive a reindeer car. You start to spot other reindeer car drivers. That’s right. There’s a community! Reindeer cars are happy when they see each other! They honk! They wave! Instead of the finger, reindeer cars give you the thumbs up!

Which is why a few weeks into December, I was on the side of the road desperately searching for where my husband said the reindeer antler flew off. (Christmas is a magical time, and I unfortunately, am prone to believing anything). It couldn’t be found. What would happen now? Would the kids be disappointed? How would my reindeer friends know I was one of them?

We never found the missing antler. We did drive around as a disabled reindeer until the end of the season, mostly because we never came across another kit to buy. And, I never did get another. But driving that reindeer car changed me. Every year, I love spotting them on the road. I know they are happy people, and that makes me happy. I’m not there yet, but I don’t judge the cars with the big headlight eyelashes. It could happen to anybody.