Why You Can't Cancel Christmas

A few weeks ago, I posted this status update on Facebook.

Post by Sarah Stewart Holland.

My poor little serious Griffin was genuinely worried he had been too naughty to get any presents from Santa. Never mind that I had made nary a mention of any Santa-induced repercussions for bad behavior and that we also purposefully described our Elf as the non-surveillance kind, he was still stressed.

So, I let him in on a little secret. Everybody gets presents. I told him I'd never heard of child in my entire life that didn't get presents from Santa. I confessed it was all a big, giant bluff.

Imagine my surprise when earlier this week I encountered the Henderson family - who had indeed cancelled Christmas. After confessing on her blog Over The Big Moon that she and her husband had decided to cancel Christmas, Lisa's story went viral spreading to Good Morning, America and The Huffington Post. 

She explains:

“We have not cancelled putting up decorations, celebrating the birth of our Savior, or any of our other heartwarming traditions. But, we have cancelled presents, Santa, and stockings. Their letters to Santa this year will be asking Santa to find someone who needs their presents more.

Here is why – John and I feel like we are fighting a very hard uphill battle with our kids when it comes to entitlement. It is one of the biggest struggles as a parent these days in middle class America. Our kids have been acting so ungrateful lately. They expect so much even when their behavior is disrespectful. We gave them good warning, either it was time for their behavior to change or there would be consequences. We patiently worked with them for several months and guess what, very little changed. One day after a particularly bad display of entitlement John said, “we should just cancel Christmas.” And, so that’s what we did.”

— Lisa Henderson

In many ways, I'm sympathetic to her struggle. Entitlement is a hard thing and sometimes feels like an uphill battle. I remember one of the first lessons I taught Griffin as a baby was I'm going to eat my FIRST breakfast before you demand your SECOND.

The struggle is particularly difficult during this time of year with the much-bemoaned attention on consumerism. I remember learning a difficult lesson regarding Christmas and kids just a few years ago. I was so focused on Santa getting Griffin exactly what he wanted that I had unintentionally taught him Santa takes orders instead of requests. When "Santa" didn't get it exactly right, he was disappointed instead of thrilled at the new toy he had just received. 

I resolved never again to focus so much attention on getting exactly what you asked for.

We've been careful to dial it back this year as well. When Griffin told me he wanted to ask Santa for a Nintendo DS, I told him Santa had to get my approval and I would not be granting it for a video game system. I explained he was too young and he already had plenty of apps to play on the Kindle Fire his father had recently purchased. He took the news in stride. 

So, while I understand Lisa Henderson's concerns, I must say I don't agree with her approach. 

Gratitude is not a character trait but a daily practice - among both children and adults. It's not something your children "have" but something you work on every single day. For me, the idea that a child would be punished for lack of gratitude by the removal of material possessions seems to put all the focus in exactly the wrong place.

Now, the Henderson family has made it clear they will be using the money they would have spent on gifts for service projects and that their children will be making gifts for one another in an effort to "teach their children to be charitable and grateful." All of that sounds wonderful and definitely something we do every year to make sure we put the emphasis on giving instead of receiving.

However, by linking her children's gratitude to the external motivation of receiving presents I still think Lisa Henderson is missing the point. I don't want my children to be grateful because I'm yelling at them to be. I don't want my children to exhibit gratitude because they're afraid of what I'll do if they don't. 

I want my children to find a space for gratitude in their every day life because I believe it is a source of true fulfillment - all year long, not only in December. I want my children to see the role gratitude plays in my own life and model that behavior because they see the benefits go far beyond what presents I receive on Christmas morning.

After all, I give to my children at Christmas because I feel so grateful to have them in my life and because the act of giving to them brings me great joy - even when their reactions don't always meet my expectations.

Hosting a Holiday Open House

We hosted our annual holiday open house this Sunday. I decorate. Nicholas cooks. All our friends come over and we have a wonderful afternoon spreading a little holiday cheer (and mint chocolate chip cake... YUM!) 

Check out Salt & Nectar for all the details!

2014 Holiday Gift Guide

Recently, I stopped by WSIL News-3 This Morning and had a fabulous time talking with Kevin Hunsperger about my favorite gift ideas for the 2014 Holiday Season. I take a little bit different approach to gift guides then most. Instead of following the latest gift-giving trends, I keep an eye out all year long for unique products that make me (or my family and friends) sit up and take notice. I literally keep a notebook and jot down every time I think "Wow, what a great idea!" or a friend raves about something.

Then, I round them all up for y'all at the end of the year ... with some giveaways of course!

For her

ESSIO Aromatherapy Shower Kit

If you live in the world, you know that essential oils are HUGE right now. The ESSIO Aromatherapy Shower Kit is a new and unique way to incorporate essential oils into your daily routine. The kit includes the attachment device that clips onto your shower head and 3 essential oil pods. Once attached, the pods dangle in the water stream diffusing the essential oils and turning your shower into a spa!

I've been using mine in the evenings to relax and absolutely love it!

Win an ESSIO Aromatherapy Shower Kit!

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RainbowWool Felt Slippers

I bought a pair of these adorable felt slippers at a charity auction early in the fall. Then, I brought them home and NEVER. TOOK. THEM. OFF. Apparently, the employee who donated them to the auction is also a huge fan and has tried numerous pairs of slippers off Etsy and these are the BEST. Made by hand by a woman name Katerina in Russia, they have real leather bottoms and are so, so warm and comfortable. 

Win a pair of Felt Slippers from RainbowWool!

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Surprise! Erin Condren made the list. I know my love of all things Erin in well-documented but I can't help it if she keeps knocking it out the park. I briefly mentioned her fabulous acrylic trays in my last video with Shannon but I have only fallen deeper in love since then. It is the perfect adorable catchall at the end of my counter and would make such a fantastic gift for your best friend or favorite sister. 

Win one of TWO $50 gift cards Erin Condren is giving away!

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For Him

Tintype Print

I first saw the genius work of Josiah Morgan on Modern Mrs. Darcy and was immediately taken. Josiah creates tintype prints using modern digital images and the 160 year old process of tin typing.  This is not a photoshop filter, y'all. This is the real deal.

“At this moment in time, we find ourselves searching again for the imperfect but wonderful human touch that exists in handmade photography. Don’t get us wrong, we love our digital cameras, camera phones, and inkjet printers. But when it comes time take a photo out of the digital cloud and physically put in our home and life, there is something to be said for doing it using very old techniques.

Wetplate photography allows us to rediscover the magic of handmade silver-based photography—and it provides a durable, long-lasting image.”

— Josiah Morgan

Josiah told me that holding one in person is like holding a diamond...a picture just can't compare. He was absolutely right. The one he created for me has the most beautiful depth and shine. This would be perfect for your history buff or dad looking to add something special to his office decor.

Josiah is offering 10% off your total order with the code BLUEGRASSREDHEAD.

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Kershaw Knives

If your husband is like mine, he likes to carry a pocket knife. He doesn't own only one pocket knife, however. Oh no! Apparently, knives are like shoes. You can't have too many. Well, no one understands that better than Kershaw Knives. They have a wide array of knives from a small everyday carry like the Shuffle to the Kershaw-Rick Hinderer designed award-winning Cryo.

If you want to get a gift the man in your life will actually appreciate, look no further than Kershaw. 

Win the Thermite Blackwash™ from Kershaw!

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Philips Wake-up Light

If you have a loved one already suffering from seasonal affective disorder (truthfully this would be a great gift for him or her!), then the Philips Wake-up Light is a great gift. More than just an alarm clock, the Wake-up Light simulates the sunrise in the dark winter mornings making even the bleakest beginning more enjoyable. I've had several friends rave about how they went from being best friends with the snooze button to facing the day with a smile on their face.

Win a Wake-up Light from Philips!

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Preparing for Winter with Ryobi Outdoors

I received a free Ryobi 40V Blower from Ryobi and a trip to Ryobi headquarters in exchange for writing a review.  

Well, PREPARING for winter implies winter has not arrived yet but then again...

Maybe we should just say dealing with a winter that showed up early and unexpectedly in NOVEMBER!

Either way, the temperatures have fallen and it's time to bring out the warm blankets and roaring fires. We've had a stack of free wood sitting outside our house for over a year... because who turns down free wood!?! The only problem was most of the logs were WAY too big to use in a fire. 

When Ryobi sent us the 40V Brushless Chainsaw, Nicholas suggested we use it to cut down some of the bigger logs into manageable slices. It worked like a charm without the hassle of gas and oil and had the power of the 40V battery we've gotten used to with the 40V Jet Blower and 40V String Trimmer.

Both Nicholas and I were so impressed with the results and we had our roaring fire that evening to celebrate!

Gingerbread House Party

Inspired to shake it up this holiday season, I decided to host a small gingerbread house party for Griffin and his friends after school. I am now an expert on all the gingerbread tips and tricks so if you want to know what works best to glue the houses or if you want to just see some cute kids and their creations, click on over to Salt & Nectar to see all the details!

Bill Cosby: Can creator and creation be separate?

Like so many Americans, I grew up loving Bill Cosby and The Cosby Show. I listened to an old record of his stand-up on my stepfather's record player and watched the Huxtables and all their spinoffs religiously. Rudy. Theo. Denise. Dwayne. Whitley. I loved them all. 

I remember first reading about the rape accusations against Bill Cosby many years ago - long after The Cosby Show had gone off the air. My memory is murky but I recall reading there were around seven women who told very similar stories of drugging and sexual assault. The stories stuck with me. 

This was around the same time as Cosby's support of respectability politics gained increasing attention. Obviously, I have no firsthand experience with being black in America, but Cosby's scolding of black Americans from a position of privilege always sat very, very wrong with me.

As a result, I began opting out of any Cosby worship. Oprah featured him many times over my years of viewing and I never watched. It's one of the few areas I consciously parted ways with Oprah. He just seemed OFF to me.

Now, after decades of being ignored by the public and silenced by Cosby's legal and public relations team, the internet has successfully revived the stories of those who accuse Cosby of sexual assault. 

And there are a lot of them. 

Seventeen women have come forward publicly and told stories of Cosby exploiting his position of power to get them alone, offer them drugs, and then sexually assault them.

SEVENTEEN.

The stories include incidents beginning in the 1960s and continuing until as recent as 2004 and were recently corroborated by an ex-employee who claims Cosby paid him stand guard outside his dressing room. 

Now, as I argued with Woody Allen and the accusations made against him by Dylan Farrow, no one who choses to accuse a public figure in the court of public opinion should expect to be believed without question or criticism. For better or for worse, that is not the world we live in and I can only assume is also the reason many of the woman have chosen to remain anonymous.

However, neither should Cosby. The fact that he refuses to address the accusations and has attempted to shame reporters who even dare ask the questions speaks to the same egotistical (and delusionary) belief in one's own power that would also lead one to sexually assault women.

And make no mistake - if even a tiny percentage of what these women are saying is true - this is about power not sex. If Bill Cosby wanted to have sex outside his marriage, I can only assume that there were plenty of women willing to have consensual sex with him. And really I don't care. That's between him and his wife and those women and wouldn't have affected my opinion of him in the slightest. 

There are plenty of men - famous men - with sexual appetites exist far outside my own personal ethics whose creative work I still enjoy. I have a friend who attended University of Texas and personally witnessed Matthew McConaughey's dogged sexual pursuit of anything that moved. More power to you Matthew! Still loved you in Texas Buyer's Club!

Rod Stewart. Adam Levine. Leonardo DiCaprio. And - yes - Bill Clinton. All with sexual appetites that would be a huge problem were I married to them but luckily I am not. Human beings and sexuality are COMPLICATED and, if you're waiting for all your favorite stars or artists or politicians, to align with a perfect vision of human sexual conduct well then ... enjoy all those Paul Newman movies!

I'm also not arguing one must reject all of Bill Cosby's work. Drawing a strict line between creator and creation is not always that simple. This scene is perfection. Nothing can change that. However, when the work is so closely tied to the personality of the artist, I find it difficult to leave what I know about the artist behind. This is not Roman Polanski tucked safely behind a camera. This is Bill Cosby, who created an entire show inspired by his family, stars in every episode, and named the show after himself. 

Roxane Gay eloquently summed it up it in her recent essay on Cosby, "His art does not absolve him. Art is nothing compared to humanity, nothing at all."

So, I've lost my taste for all things Cosby. Pure and simple. 

I won't be showing my children reruns of The Cosby Show - even if I could.  

What about you? What do you think about Cosby and the rape allegations?

My Memories of December 1st, 1997

This article was originally published on The Atlantic in the wake of Sandy Hook.

I was 16-years-old, a junior at Heath High School in Paducah, Kentucky. Born and raised in the small Western Kentucky town, I was the fourth generation of my family to attend Heath. My great-grandparents had skipped out on a basketball game to ride the ferry across the river and get married in Illinois. My great-aunt had been the home economics teacher for years. My mother had been the prom queen.

It was a cold, gray December day, the first after Thanksgiving break in 1997. Not owning a license yet, I rode to school with my friend Beth and her dad. I remember I was wearing my brand new blue fleece from the Gap that my stepdad had given me as a reward for getting all A's that semester.

We were running late, but as we circled the parking lot, I noticed a large group of students standing outside the gym -- mostly upperclassmen, including a boy I had a crush on. One of our classmates ran up to Beth's car and pounded on the window.

"Some guy just started shooting people!" he yelled. 

Beth's dad told her to drive across the street to the elementary school and park. I told both of them I was getting out to see what was going on. I suspected some boy had gotten mad at his girlfriend and used a hunting rifle to seek his revenge. Just a few months before, a student in Pearl, Mississippi, had gone to school and shot his former girlfriend. As I walked past the group of upperclassmen, I noticed my crush looked pale and shaken. I asked him what was going on.

"I don't know, but there's no fucking way I'm going back in there," he replied.

Inexplicably, I kept walking -- past the group of students gathered in front of the gymnasium next to our high school and up the steps to the south entrance. My high school is small and contained in a single building --- one hallway on top of another, with a stairway on each side. The hallways have wooden doors that close before you reach the stairwell. I realize now I must have entered the building moments after the shooting took place, because the wooden doors had not yet been closed. I simply opened the doors and looked down the hallway to see several bodies lying in the lobby of my high school.

I turned around and walked out. I wasn't afraid. I didn't panic. I just knew that that building was not a place I needed or wanted to be. I don't remember any physical reaction -- only mind-numbing shock.

The majority of the student body was being directed into the school gymnasium, where pandemonium reigned. I remember being told a friend of mine had died, then minutes later watching her walk through the doors of the gym. Very few of us had cell phones in 1997, so I used my friend's to call my mother. As I stood in the parking lot telling my mother I was safe, another friend ran up and told us the shooter was still on the loose and we should get back in the gym. I remember the panic and dread as we waited for the classes on the second floor to be released from lockdown. Most of my close friends had been upstairs and I remember the relief I felt when I saw them for the first time.

So many had witnessed the shooting that the identity of the shooter himself was never a mystery. His name was Michael Carneal. He was a shy, unassuming freshman. Few knew him personally, but everyone knew his older sister, an outgoing and very involved senior. She and I were in choir together and both worked on the school newspaper staff.

"I didn't even know she had a brother!" were the first words out of my mouth when I found out. Months later, his sister told me he had always been known as her little brother. "Now, I'll always be Michael Carneal's sister," she said.

***

As parents and other adults began arriving, the scene at the school became even more emotional. It was as if we hadn't known to feel sad or scared until we saw the fearful faces of those who were supposed to protect us. When it had been only us filling the gym and trying to figure out what to do, we could keep up a front, but as our mothers and fathers arrived, everything changed. I still remember the sight of cars with doors ajar abandoned for miles up the road as the parents got as close as they could and then got out and ran.

I don't remember when I left or with whom. I spent the evening with friends who didn't attend my high school, telling my story over and over again as the details of the shooting and the names of those injured and killed became known.

Michael Carneal had opened fire on the prayer group that met every morning in the lobby of the school. Three of my classmates were dead and five were injured. Senior Jessica James, sophomore Kayce Steger, and freshman Nicole Hadley were gone. The injuries among the other victims ranged from minor wounds to a classmate who was paralyzed from the chest down.

We learned later that evening that we would attend school the next day. At the time, the decision seemed outrageous. How could they expect us to walk back through those doors so soon? Some of my classmates' parents refused to let them go. However, my mother, a public school librarian, told me that if school was in session, I would be in attendance.

She dropped me off at the front doors of Heath High School the next morning. Directly across the street, the media had set up camp. Satellite trucks and a thick dark line of cameras captured me exiting the car and carrying flowers into the school. I would watch my entrance play out again and again on the nightly news for the next week.

The lobby looked the same as before, except for two small bullet holes in the cement wall that the custodians had already attempted to patch up and paint over. The paint hid nothing as we all went over to peer at the only visual indication that everything had changed. As everyone filtered in, we gathered in a circle. I read a Bible verse, which I don't remember, and added the flowers I brought to the ever-growing pile.

We didn't go to any of our classes that day. There were counselors and ministers there to talk with us. Mostly, we all just wandered around and did whatever felt right. I dedicated myself to forgiveness.

The fact that the shooting had happened during prayer circle seemed significant to me. I had often attended the early morning prayer meeting, and I felt both blessed I had been late that morning and guilty I hadn't been attending the prayer circle more regularly. My simultaneous feelings of guilt and gratitude manifested in a driving desire to forgive Michael Carneal. I went to the library and spent hours making signs with several of my classmates to display in the school windows.

"We forgive you, Michael," they read. There was also the one I can never forget: "We forgive you because God forgave us."

The signs made an impact. Story after story portrayed our community as a place where forgiveness lived. I was interviewed by ABC News with two of my classmates. I held my Bible in my lap and spoke of God's love and how it allowed me to forgive the heinous actions of Michael Carneal.

In my mind, forgiving Michael Carneal meant that I could move on. Even at sixteen, I knew forgiveness was the last step in the healing process. I was not injured. I had not witnessed the shooting. I felt no anger or hatred towards the shooter. Surely this meant I was OK. 

So I carried on, and moved along, and grew up. I graduated the next year and went away to college, where I met the man who would become my husband. After graduation, we married and went to law school. I moved back to Paducah and had children of my own. For years, I considered the events of December 1st to be a part of my story, but not a part of who I was.

Small things would affect me, but I never considered them indicative of anything larger. My freshmen year in college, a student died after falling off a cliff during a camping trip. His death felt like a personal assault. I felt as though death and tragedy had followed me far from the grounds of Heath High School. The odd behavior of a trench-coated stranger in a post office would send me hyperventilating, running for the exit. I can still vividly recall the shooting scene in the 2001 film, In the Bedroom, that left me sobbing in the lobby of the theater.

It wasn't until years later that I realized the impact of that day reached far beyond isolated moments of panic. I was sitting with a group of close friends. I'm not sure how the conversation began, but I was telling them that every time my husband and I parted even for a few minutes, to run a short errand, I worried it would be the last time I would see him. My constant fear of losing a loved one in a sudden and tragic way had become a normal part of my life. Every goodbye left me imaging car wrecks or crazed gunmen. If my husband or parents didn't telephone a change in plans or late arrival, I began calling emergency rooms or police stations without hesitation.

I thought everyone felt that way, but as I looked at my friends, it became very clear that the way I felt was not normal. I could see the shock written across each and every one of their faces. I had expected reassurance that they thought the same things from time to time, but instead I received only stunned silence.

***

Over a decade after the shooting at Heath High School, I went to counseling. After only a handful of sessions, my counselor diagnosed me with post-traumatic stress disorder. She told me that the traumatic way I had been introduced to death as a teenager had left me with an unhealthy obsession with it. I began to realize that for years I had lived in fear of December 1st. I had lived in fear of that moment that comes out of nowhere and leaves you broken, shattered, and crying on the floor. I had thought if I could anticipate that moment, if I could prepare for it somehow, it wouldn't be as bad. I realize now the absurdity of that response. The pain of a trauma cannot be lessened or protected against, and I only rob myself of present joys with my futile attempts to do so.

Of course, that realization is hard to hold onto in the aftermath of the tragedy at Sandy Hook. I am now the mother of two small boys -- the oldest of whom will be entering elementary school sooner than I'd like. A level of grief I never imagined at 16 opens up to me when I think of those parents. I knew then that losing a child was terrible thing, but I know now that it is a pain so unimaginable my brain will not allow me to process it. It's as if a security gate slams shut when I try to think about the loss of either of my children. "Do not enter," my brain seems to be saying.

I find myself asking questions that seemed silly when raised by the concerned parents of my classmates 15 years ago. "What are they doing to keep my children safe?" "What security procedures are in place?" As if there were some way to fathom the unfathomable and protect against it.

Mostly, I find myself thinking of the survivors. My classmates and I learned a very difficult lesson in high school. We learned that the world was not a safe place and that truly terrible things can happen when you least expect it. To think of more than 600 students at Sandy Hook Elementary School learning that lesson at nine years old and younger is heartbreaking. I can remember a time when I felt safe, when I didn't constantly anticipate the worst. Perhaps they never will.

They escaped with their lives. But their lives will be forever changed by December 14th. I know this. December 1st taught me.

TEN Advent Calendars in 15 minutes or less

The OFFICIAL countdown to Christmas begins in only a few days! December 1st is a perfect time to begin building anticipation for Christmas Day, but what if you're busy doing the other 1,572 (approximately) things that need to get done before the big day. 

Not all of us have the time to hand knit a 25 mitten garland for the mantle or even order the more pricey varieties from Pottery Barn in time for a December 1st arrival. 

Never fear! I've rounded up 10 Advent Calendar ideas that you can complete in 15 minutes or less. And guess what? Kids. Don't. Care. They love any kind of countdown, ESPECIALLY if it involves candy. So, pull out that Halloween candy you stashed away and build a little holiday anticipation.

Paper Garland Tree

Image courtesy of Weekend Make and Take.

Mini-Muffin Tin Advent Calendar

Image Courtesy of Andrea Dekker.

Santa's Beard Advent Calendar

Image Courtesy of TOMFO

Balloon Advent Calendar

Image courtesy of Ohoh Blog.

Coffee Filter Advent Calendar

Image courtesy of Scrumdillydilly

Candy Chain Advent Calendar

Image courtesy of Joys of Home

Clothes Pin Advent Calendar

Image courtesy of Kirsty Wiseman Photography

Santa's Beard Cutting Advent Calendar

Image courtesy of la classe della maestra valentina

Easy Activities Advent Jar

Image courtesy mess for less.

Super Simple Advent Calendar

Image courtesy of Hi Sugarplum!

Enjoy your advent!

P.S. Elf on the Shelf® the EASY way!

P.P.S. 21 Days to a Peaceful Holiday