Pale Is The New Tan

I have fair skin. But that should not come as a surprise to anyone who has ever seen my mom. She has fair skin too, as do both of my grandmas, all my aunts, my grandpa and both my sisters. I basically come from a very white family. I resemble my mom and her mom in so many ways that it's not unusual for me to be pasty like them too.

I used to want to be tan, but I know now that's not going to happen. I've come to grips with that. My dad was born in Iowa, is mostly German, and should be white, buuuut he's not. In fact, his white in the winter is tanner than my skin in the summer.

I guess my obsession with not being a "whitey" comes mainly from my dad always being more tan than I was. Often he would hold out his arm to compare skin color while asking, "Who's tanner?"

But I have come to a conclusion, pale is the new tan. With the rising concern of skin cancer and sun damage, I have become a firm believer in being white. Yes, I may blind people with my whiteness. Yes, my skin can be used to reflect sunlight. And no, I don't glow in the dark... but that's ok with me because as far as I'm concerned, pale is the new tan.

Christmas is Just Around the Corner!

Everyone including me is rushing around trying to make everything the way the whole family expects it to be. We cook like crazy to make enough food to feed ourselves, and we normally have enough left over to feed the next door neighbors. We pull out every decoration that we own and spend countless hours trying to figure out where to plug them all in. Because the family is coming to our house, we clean and clean until everything is slick enough to ice skate on.

Not to mention all the effort we put into writing the Christmas cards every year or the time it takes to get everyone looking nice enough at the same time to take a Christmas photo. Or we could talk about all the time that we spend, not always on the people we love and want to appreciate, but on tyring to make everything "perfect."

I recently heard a wonderful woman named Cathie Lip speak at my church. She said she had a very wise friend who really didn't find any joy in cooking a huge meal for her family every year, but she did because she assumed that that was what everyone wanted. This friend had a brilliant idea one year, and she decided to ask her kids to each pick one food item for her to make on Christmas Day. She asked each one and the only thing that anyone said was crescent rolls.

"You mean the ones that come in a can?" she asked.

"Yeah, those mommy."

"What about the gingerbread houses? Don't you want to have them?"

"No, we don't like the gingerbread houses. We want the crescent rolls."

This year they're having KFC and crescent rolls for Christmas.

All of this to say, I think we all tend to take Christmas to the max. Baking, decorating, cooking, cleaning and shopping are all fun things, but we put a lot of unnecessary pressure on ourselves to do things that really have no special meaning to anyone; they're just tradition.

After Mommy G heard Cathie speak, she sat everyone down at our kitchen table and asked what we would keep in our Christmas. Things like a real tree and pie for breakfast on Christmas morning were said, but the thing that most of us agreed on was the fact that we wanted to have a relaxed Christmas morning to ourselves.

So that's what we are doing, although it will have to be cut a little short this year since we are eating dinner early because my uncle has to work. I think the cutting out "unnecessaries" was a good idea, and it helps us to slow down a bit and remember the real meaning behind all the festivities and celebrations.

Christ was born!

Luke 2:11 "Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; he is Christ the Lord."

FRIDAY!!!!!

Fridays...I love them. I really do. Nothing can compare to the awesome feeling that another week is almost over and the "restful" weekend is well on it's way.

Fridays have always had some kind of special feeling. When I was little, my family started a Friday tradition of Movie and Shake Night. We would rent a family movie and afterwards, my dad would make us all chocolate milk shakes. A tradition that my grandpa started back before I was born.

When my family moved to Chico, my dad had every other Friday off of work. He would stay at home and often times pull out the beloved hot wheel racing track, print up a set of racing brackets and then promptly beat every one of my fastest cars.

Fridays are still Movie and Shake Night, but the tradition has become so much more than just a fun evening; it's turned into the one night a week where everything is pushed aside and family takes center stage.

So, needless to say, if you ask me to do something else on Friday night, you will probably get a no. Maybe, unless you'll let me bring everyone along.

The Frog in Our Drainpipe

He's stuck. I can't remember the last time that went out into the backyard in the evening and didn't hear his familiar voice. He's got to be hungry down there so every once in a while I think another fellow frog tosses down a fly to him.

I was very concerned the other night because I didn't hear him anymore. Frantic, I began shouting things like "hang on, we'll get you out somehow" and "I always wanted you to know that I love you" down the hole. After being pulled away from the hole, I constructed a miniature rope ladder using toothpicks and floss.

I tried to tell "Raymond" that it would be OK, and that I was lowering a rescue line down to him. He didn't answer me. I continued on saying to tug on the rope twice so I could pull him up to safety. He didn't answer.

The rope ladder is still dangling in the drain. Hopefully he escaped and has been joyfully reunited with his amphibious relations, but I have my doubts.

A happy life to you my froggie...