Buying a Fake Tree Saved My Marriage

     The older I get I realize the importance of sparingly using the word "never."  When I was young, naive and inexperienced I used to make two statements at Christmas.  First, I swore I'd never buy a fake tree.  Second, I emphatically stated that I'd never buy my own Christmas presents.  Now I know, never say never.  Giving into these two things has made life much simpler and happier.
   I grew up in Washington state.  My dad grew up in Arizona.  We always had a live tree.  I think it was one of his favorite parts of the holiday.  When I was really little we traveled to a farm and cut down our own.  The switch to a tree lot was a big deal and not an easy decision.  As we got older and got busier it just seemed more difficult to plan a day at a tree farm.  My husband also grew up with a real tree.  When we married we agreed that a fake tree was a horrible sin.  We would never have a fake tree.  I remember snidely commenting on fake trees and not understanding how anyone could ever own one and enjoy it. 
     However, as the years past, we'll be married 18 years in May, our priorities changed and our "nevers" became weaker.  Eventually, we realized buying a tree was a chore.  We found little joy in the experience and it often caused fighting.  First of all, trees are expensive.  We'd go to the tree lot and wander around seeing trees we wanted, but not being able to buy them.  Next, we'd settle for a pretty good tree in our price range.  Finally, after choosing, we'd head home.  The worst part was yet to come.
     Once we were home we had to set the tree up.  I dreaded this every year.  I prepped myself to stay calm, but it rarely worked.  Our cheaper tree always seemed to be too small for our stand.  Mike would be swearing under the tree, while I tried to hold it straight.  He'd harshly ask if I was holding it straight and them accuse me of not paying attention.  I would be easily offended and huffily remind him that I was doing the best I could.  After all, the tree was taller than I was and I was attempting to hold it straight while being poked in the face by branches and getting sticky with sap.  I hated putting up the tree.
    Next, came the lights.  First, we had to go through each strand and make sure they all worked.  Then we had to find the strands with the matching colors, some were more pink than red.  The redder ones for the tree and the pinker ones for other decorating.  Next, we had to argue about blinking, not blinking, and blinking pace.  Finally, I usually ended up putting on the lights and then Mike would come back and fix them.  (I'm getting ticked and frustrated just writing this.)  Once the lights were perfect Mike would usually take a few pictures or video the first ornaments being hung and then disappear, trying to calm down.  Not the way we wanted to start the holidays, but our usual pattern.
     Finally, about five years ago I gave in and bought a tree on sale the day after Thanksgiving.  One of the best decisions I ever made.  It was a difficult decision, I felt so guilty.  I felt like I was giving up.  A few points swayed me though.  First, we weren't killing a tree every year for a few weeks of pleasure.  Second, in the long run it would save us money.  Third, it was pre lit and I could set it up by myself.  Wow, has that fake tree taken a lot of the stress out of the holidays.  The pros definitely have out weighed the cons.  The thing we miss most is the smell, but that's all.  Putting up the tree for us was a similar male/female getting directions and figuring out how to get somewhere experience.  What was important and how we viewed it were so very different.
     Buying a fake tree allowed me to give up on my other Christmas never.  I swore I'd never buy my own presents.  I wanted to be surprised.  I like surprises usually.  Mike hated making decisions.  He was stressed by the pressure to figure out what I wanted.  I was frustrated because I felt like he was making it too hard.  Eventually I started cutting out adds and making lists of things I'd like for him.  He didn't find this helpful either though.  He didn't think it was a surprise to buy something from a list.  My argument was that I didn't know what exactly he'd get me from the list.    I have to admit I was a little sad when I finally gave in and bought myself presents.  However, once again so much of the stress of the holidays is gone that it was worth it.  Also, the last couple of years I've wanted something big and kind of expensive. I've wanted the money he'd spend on me to pool with any other money from parents and grandparents we might get.  I usually buy my present after the holidays when I see how much we have.  One year I wanted home and away hockey jerseys and this year I want another tattoo.  Two things I have to get myself.
     So the moral of this story is never say never because the holidays are supposed to bring you together and not cause frustration and fighting.

A Week Before Winter Break (Emotions)

           A Week Before Winter Break
                 (Emotions)
               By Meredith Johnson

Monday morning: Joy
                   Just one more week!
Monday afternoon: Dread
                   A whole week of this!
Tuesday morning: Hope
                    Today can’t be worse than yesterday.
Tuesday afternoon: Frustration
                      I’m only giving directions once.
                  One more time these are the directions.
                         Last time, the directions are...
Wednesday morning: Determined
                       I am the teacher.
                       I am prepared.
                       I’ve been teaching for years.
Wednesday afternoon: Vulnerable
            I was teaching, but no one was listening.
Thursday morning: Brave
            Giving a quiz today so they won’t forget over the break.
Thursday afternoon: Defeated
                       They’ve already forgotten.
Friday morning: Apprehensive
                 Expecting the worst.
Friday afternoon: Relief
                      I made it!
                      They’re gone!
                      I’m free!
                      Done.
          (And my head only hurts a little.)

Teacher Poetry

     Every December I teach poetry.  We do a variety of styles many lending themselves to silliness and fun.  I try to write my own poems while my students write.  I enjoy it and it sets a good example.  One type of poem they usually enjoy is the "Never Will I Ever" poem.  It's an acrostic poem.  Here's mine this year:

Never will I ever...
Endure complaints about hard work.
Vote to teach on the weekends.
Expect to only give directions once.
Race my class in the halls.
Withhold quiz information.
Indulge in more than three Diet Cokes at school.
Lollygag between specialists.
Linger past the bell in the lunchroom. 
Invade another teacher’s classroom.
End a lesson without answering questions.
Vow to teach kindergarten.
Exercise my influence for evil.
Request a new class.
                        By Mrs. Johnson

     Another style we attempt is called "Alphabet Soup Poems."  My musing this year:

My Kids                                                                       By Mrs. Johnson

Children, I love you, but you’re
Driving me crazy.
Everyone stop
Fighting!
Good job, now time for
Hugs.

     We also experiment with List Poetry.  This is my poem this year:

By Mrs. Johnson

Reasons...

My homework isn’t done:
I left it at school, in the car or at my friend’s house.
I was at a Jazz game, a concert or a restaurant until late.
My mom/dad wouldn’t help me.
I didn’t know we had homework.
The teacher didn’t give me the work.
We were too busy.

Your tests aren’t corrected:
I left the key at school.
I was at my daughter’s basketball game.
My son needed his paper edited.
The baby had a fever.
My favorite tv shows were on.
I fell asleep.

   I know I repeat myself a lot.  Sorry I can't remember what I've posted before.  These are some of  my favorite teacher poems I've written:

Things to Do Instead of Get Started on My Assignment

Sharpen my pencil
Get a tissue
Look for my pencil
Pull out the wrong book
Ask to go to the bathroom
Try to go get a drink
Talk to my neighbor
Stare into space
Walk to my cubby for no reason
Tap my pencil
Dig through my pencil box
Doodle on the edge of my paper
Ask for help before reading the directions

Things Not to Ask Your Teacher

Do we have to write in complete sentences?
When is lunch?
What time does school get out?
Are we going to have homework?
Do we have to know this?
Would you repeat those directions, again?
Do I have to finish this WHOLE page?
What did you just say?

     I love to share these with my students.  Some get the joke, others ask questions that should be in my poem.  Poetry is such a good outlet.  I love teaching it and writing it.  Try some yourself and send them my way.

 

I'm the Boss

     My youngest is two and a half.  He is also 10 years younger than his sister and 12 years younger than his brother.  I often wonder what life is like from his perspective.  His life is dominated by giants who all have lots to say.  Often he has plenty of attention because he has almost four grown-ups at his disposal.  At other times he can be ignored in the bustle of daily life.
     He has discovered that mornings are his time to be in charge.  While the rest of us stumble around slowly waking, he quickly wakes up and is ready to go.  As the morning gets busy he gets bossier.  The closer we scramble to leave the house, the more orders he issues.
     "Get your shoes on, 'Lessia." he directs his sister.
     "Rilwyn!" he shouts down the stairs, "Time to go."
     "Let's go Riwyn."
     "Mom," he questions, "You ready?"
     "You coming dad?"
     "Open the door," he demands.
     He directs us all until we're all in the car ready to head out for our day.  Right now it's dang cute, let's hope his bossiness becomes more subtle and diplomatic as he gets older.