Living Fearlessly Through the Holidays

Christmas, children, is not a date. It is a state of mind.

- Mary Ellen Chase

The holidays, despite all their bling and the joy they bring, can also be STRESSFUL. We run the risk of releasing our resolve to live fearlessly and, thus, spiraling into Christmas chaos. Don't lose your presence of mind.

Five Ways to Live Fearlessly for the Holidays

1.Travel Light - Remember, every decoration that goes up must also come down. Don't be afraid to simplify your yuletide.

 

2.The Book of Lists - Doubtless, you've got a list as long as Santa's of things that must be done by midnight on the 24th, or before. Accept that some things are not absolutely necessary and catapult Make cookies with the kids to the top of the list. Be happy that some stuff doesn't get done. It means you spent time on the truly important things.

 

 3.Summon Your Tunnel Vision - Keep in mind the real reason we celebrate Christmas. Don't let glitzy advertisements, glossy magazine pictures, or persnickety perfectionists convince you that you need more, more, more to have a satisfying holiday. Be confident that you've already got all you really need.

 4.Gather the Girls - Friends are one of life's greatest gifts. Take time out of the busyness to spend time together.

 5.Fake It - Feeling bah-humbug? Say "Merry Christmas" robustly to everyone you meet. Your Christmas spirit will soon swell.

Towing the Line

What do I say to kid who asks me, "Mama, do I look like Mater with his doors open?"

If I say no, he'll think I'm patronizing him. He'll think I'm just doing my motherly duty and making him feel better about a kid at school teasing him.

If I say yes, he'll cry. And he'll write bad things about me and my maternal cruelties in his memoirs.

Silence simply confirms his worst fears, that the little girl who said it can see deep down into his soul from where his ears sprout, and that she maybe likes what she sees there. Bleck!

So I said, "You got less rust on your chin."

He went and asked his daddy.

Tuck Your Skirt in Your Panties and Run

Be the first to read. Be the first to review.

Tuck Your Skirt in Your Panties and Run

This approximately 180 page book is filled with humorous, hilarious and downright harebrained true stories of mishaps, missteps and miscalculations.

The official release is scheduled for January 2011, but the publisher has made a limited number of pre-release copies available through December 15. Special discounts are available and all pre-release copies are signed copies. Join the pre-release party and get yours before anyone else. Order a few for Christmas gifts, too.

Signed copies of If Mama Don't Laugh, It Ain't Funny are also available.

Buy a set of both books and receive a 15% discount.

Lucy Adams, lucybgoosey@aol.com,  ww.IfMama.com

A Junior League Tree without the Junior League Headache

Does your yuletide tree look like this?

Or this?



Or maybe even this?



Have you dreamed for years of giving your family the kind of Christmas tree they deserve? A Junior League Tree? But you couldn't face the Junior League headache of trying to perfectly arrange those themed decorations?

There's hope for people like us. The Show Me Decorating: Recipe for Holiday Tree Trimming DVD demonstrates step-by-step instructions for a Junior League Festival of Tree (you're only going to put up one right?).

Buy Here

In the time it takes a claymation snowman to blink, you'll learn all the tricks of the trade. You can even follow along while you trim your own tree.

Best of all, the DVD lends itself to family fun for years to come. Break out the eggnog for a little reindeer game of Christmas Balls. Every time someone in the video says "balls" everyone sips some nog. A word of caution, however: Too much of a good time too early could result in a Junior League headache.

Southern Girls Living Fearlessly - Climb the Hills

I've been training for a 5K race. Not because I love running. Quite the opposite. I detest the jogging motion. Living by two principles, (1) only run if someone chases me and (2) if I don't run then no one can chase me, I've fared very well over my lifetime, without the nuisance of running.

But then my children and my husband started yammering on about how they thought I couldn't run, meaning I wasn't able, I didn't have the skill or the lung capacity for it. They didn't believe I was capable of running at all. So, in a moment of delirium I vowed to show them.

My vow resulted in training for a 5K race. I don't think this is what people call having the last laugh.

The hardest part of my training has been the hills. Did you know that 90% of the world can only be accessed by going up hill? This fact came as a revelation to me when I found myself on foot looking at what lay ahead and thinking I better go on home the way I came because I'll never master that monstrosity. I even said it out loud: "I'll die before I get to the top of that hill."

 Despite that nay saying, loudmouth voice, I dug down deep and discovered the smoldering ashes of determination.This is how I climbed the hill:

1. I shushed the nagging voice telling me I couldn't do it and, even if I could, I didn't have to.
2. I quit looking at the top of the hill or the long incline leading there. Seeing how far I had to go overwhelmed me.
3. I quit thinking about all the hills waiting for me beyond that one. There will always be a next hill to climb. It's best to focus on the one at hand.
4. Although, I quit looking at it, I made getting to the top my singular goal.
5. I relaxed my shoulders, my arms and my jaw.
6. I put one foot forward and then the other foot, and so on, not stopping.
7. I concentrated on each step, only one step at a time. Every step toward my goal was a success in and of itself. Each step was celebrated. 

The process mesmerized me into forgetting about the size of the challenge I had taken on. It made what I thought was impossible for me completely doable. Before, I feared every incline in the road ahead. I would change my route to avoid upward runs. Nonetheless, another hill was usually right around the corner anyway. Try as I did, I could not escape these bumps in my road.

Fear, however, was holding me back from what was waiting on the other side: confidence and accomplishment. Had I never summoned up the guts to get up and go I would have never experienced the thrill of running down the other side. And, oh, what a feeling that is!

TODAY'S ASSIGNMENT: What hill is holding you back? What hill are you avoiding because you think you can't climb them? How has this complicated your life and your routines? What's on the other side that you're missing out on because of fear? Today, start climbing that hill, one step at a time. You can do it!

A Plump and Perky Turkey

A plump and perky turkey - stomachs rumbled at the thought.

~from A Plump and Perky Turkey by Teresa Bateman

Happy Thanksgiving!

Christmas Shopping Like a Man

So my 15 year-old son comes home from a school trip a couple of weekends ago telling me he's discovered the perfect place for us to do our Christmas shopping. He promises me that it's not too far away; just up I-20 a piece. From that point he nags and nudges me about going there until my knees buckle and I find myself in the driver's seat of my minivan heading west on the interstate.

As the speedometer needle swings over to 75, I ask about exact location. "I don't know," he confesses, suddenly not so full of himself.

"What's it called," I say.

"I don't know," he answers again. "But I'll know it when I see it. The sign has cherries on it . . . or maybe those were apples. It's something like the Country Store, I think."

"Is that country with a K or a C?" He ignores my joke and assures me this will be worth the trip. They've got the coolest stuff there; something for everyone on our Christmas list. Approaching every off-ramp, he announces, "I think this is it," then as I make ready to exit, recants, "No, it must be the next one." It goes on like this for miles.

Finally, he commits to an exit and we leave the interstate. He cranes his neck looking in both directions. "Left," he says. "I see it over there."

"Where," I ask, turning left, not seeing anything that looks remotely like a gift store.

"Down there on the right," he points. "Mama, you're going to love this place."

Following his insistence, I pull in and park:

Yes, those are gas tanks you see on the left side of the picture. And yes, again, my child has taken me to a gas station for travelers and truckers and, might I say, 40-something year-old suckers.

He enthusiastically escorts me in the doors and begins pulling items from displays, demonstrating what they do and how they work and making suggestions for recipients. The jar of water labeled a Georgia tornado would be perfect for his sister. It would entertain her for hours. One of his uncles would be beside himself to open some beef jerky and a Budweiser can cleverly converted to hold a hidden water bottle on Christmas morning.

He has his eye on the 5 lb. candy bar for me (you'll hear no complaints) and an enormous Rice Krispie Treat for his father. Birdhouses of every sort, including an Elvis with the entry through his mouth, catch the boy's attention, making him think of his grandmother. For the relative who has everything? A license plate Christmas tree ornament that reads Luv Trucker, packaged with a Sprite and a Snickers Bar.

He's right, I'm fascinated. I feel like a voyeur looking into the twisted mind of a teenage boy, a road-weary salesman or a typical male at Christmas time. I even find myself thinking that we'll have to check back for specials on Black Friday.