My Brilliant Christmas Idea

             Okay, hear me out. Not all of us get our entire families together on Christmas. There are trade-off agreements with in-laws and exes, work schedules, travel expenses, and all kinds of reasons why your family might be missing a few people this year.

            But here’s the solution: Bump the holiday. Hey, Jesus wasn’t even born in December; we all know that. So pick the next weekend, or the next one when flight costs return to normal.

            You’ll still have all the wonderful times together, the memories, the wacky disasters you’ll laugh at for years. They just don’t have to happen on the exact date of Christmas. Then BOTH sides of the family get the excitement of opening gifts, enjoying a feast together, singing carols, taking selfies in front of the tree, making a gingerbread house, playing games, re-enacting the nativity, and all the other traditions you hold dear. You can even take advantage of the after-Christmas sales!

             Brilliant, right? I know. Meanwhile, how about a holiday for neuro-divergent thinkers who come up with this ingenious stuff?

            And check out my Youtube Mom videos—hundreds of quick life hacks you’ll love.

Did You Know This?

           I think the reason we can’t remember as well when we’re older, is because we’ve crammed too much useless trivia in there. I will never forget the theme to Gilligan’s Island, nor the words to the Woody Woodpecker cartoon song, and no solution is in sight.

          So when St. Bob found a list of trivia on his phone, he immediately decided to test my knowledge.

          “There are 100 folds in a French chef’s hat,” he said. “What do they stand for?”

          “How many ways you can prepare an egg,” I said.

          He was stunned. “How do you know that?” (And I still say I’m going to make that my ring tone someday.)

          “Suma Cum Laude, Baby,” I said.  This always gets big laughs for some reason.

          He scanned the list for another tough question. “If you know this one, I will be awed,” he said.

“You’re already odd,” I said. Ba-doom-boom.

“What do the people of Japan eat for Christmas?” 

          I had no idea.

          “Kentucky Fried Chicken,” he said. 

Turns out turkey is scarce there, so KFC campaigned for a spot on the menu, and got it. They eat other traditional food as well, but the Colonel’s secret recipe was a hit, and has been for 50 years.

          And now I will probably store that useless bit of information right next to the Looney Tunes opening music.

Time to cram your noggin’ full of life hacks—check out the hundreds I have on my Youtube Mom channel! (Way more than the number of folds in a chef’s hat!)

 

Packing it Up

           Most of you have already packed up your holiday décor. But a friend just called me and said she thinks she needs an intervention. She has way too much Christmas clutter and can’t part with any of it.

          Sound familiar? Just this year I told St. Bob that we should use this “re-packing” opportunity to throw away the stuff we scarcely use anymore.

          I think I came up with two tiny items. Two. Tiny.  You know the theory that you should toss or donate everything which doesn’t bring joy? Well, every bit of this brings joy—that’s its whole purpose.

          “It looks like Santa threw up in my living room,” my friend said.

          I told her I couldn’t come and help because I would bring empty bins, say that I’m loading them up for Goodwill, and then secretly keep them all.

          When I devoted one bedroom to Christmas all year, I used a number of decorations. So, you’d think it would thin down my storage. But no. How do I still have the same number of boxes as before?

          Finally, I came up with the perfect solution and shared it with my pal. “You don’t have too much stuff,” I said. “You have too few houses.”

          And that’s the best I can do.

          But hundreds of quick life hacks can be yours—including ones about organizing—right here on my Youtube Mom channel.

Christmas Done Wrong

           Folks, just as you were sipping hot chocolate in the soft light of your Christmas tree, or listening to happy carolers at your door, a friend of mine was attending an entirely different kind of Christmas Eve: Her grandson and his wife
got hauled off to jail.

          Yes, it was one of those moments when the needle scratches the record and a drunken brawl occurred. Insults were shouted, spit was spat, fists were formed and knuckleheads were knocked. Alcohol, not surprisingly, played a starring role.

          As she was telling me this, I was thinking, “So they probably cancelled the nativity reenactment.” 

          And their four kids were left to wonder just how naughty one has to be, for Santa to boycott their entire event.

          But my friend had already distributed gifts, and when she called me I assured her that, 20 years from now, this will be the hilarious story those kids tell.

I gave her the advice I give all innocent bystanders: “Get some chocolate ice cream, sit down in a comfy chair, put your feet up, and watch whatever you want on television. You had no part in this.”

And you know what? That’s exactly what she did. Well played, Grandma.

She’s probably watching one of my Youtube Mom life hack videos right now!

Never Stop Imagining

          I've done it—I’ve created a Narnia-style entrance to the magical Christmas bedroom!  First we measured to see how large a cabinet or armoire we needed. Then we began looking. Months later, after gasping at prices, we found a tall, used wardrobe online that was not only the perfect size, but whimsical as well:

          St. Bob took the back off, removed the shelves, then tried to dolly it about, getting thrown into the bushes as you read here. 

          But with the help of three of our five amazing pretend grandchildren across the street (strapping teens) we got it upstairs and Bob fastened it to the wall.

           Next we gave it twig-shaped handles,  

  then hung some clothes to camouflage the surprise. 

 You push the clothes aside, and this is the final result:

          When you’re not going through secret passageways into Christmas Land, 

be sure to watch my Youtube Mom life hacks here.

Forever Young?

          Last week St. Bob and I were shopping in Sam’s Club when I saw a huge dollhouse: 

         I gasped. It even had an elevator! I gushed for a minute or two, then caught myself. “Oh my goodness, I hope I won’t become one of those old women who reverts to her childhood and plays with dolls,” I muttered.

          “Too late,” Bob said (notice St. is now missing). He reminded me of my Christmas bedroom, 

         my Fairy Garden, 

          my little Princess and the Pea mouse, 

          my collections of bird nests, rocks, and boxes, 

           And several other items that could be called “evidence.”

           Yikes. I’m quite certain that the neighbor kids I play with each week will grow into their teens while I remain five.

          “But you won’t have a second childhood,” Bob said, “because you’re still having the first one.”

          However, I manage to be a mom to the world in my Youtube videos sharing life hacks.

          

Rent-a-Gram

           For years I have been masquerading as an actual grandmother, even though I have no grandkids (yet).

          I told you I’ve hijacked the amazing and adorable kids across the street, and whenever I run errands I stop and chat with little ones. I’ll admit it: It makes my day.

          I have drawers full of clothes, costumes, books, and toys that I’m saving for my grandkids.

          I have a fairy garden:

          And now I have completely devoted one of our bedrooms to Christmas.

          Anyone who sleeps in this room gets a plate of warm cookies and a gift. An electric train circles the tree and plays Christmas songs. There are still a few touches I need to add, and then I’ll make a Youtube Mom video about it.

          Someone suggested I rent myself out as a grandmother. Hey, I thought: Rent-a-Gram!  Except I’d probably pay them instead of the other way around!

          Meanwhile, St. Bob and I are enjoying the electric train, the cuddly teddy bears, and the twinkling tree.  Maybe I’ll make us a batch of cookies!

          Be sure to watch my life hacks here.  And tell your friends to subscribe!    

Saving Money, Honey

           This is a time of over-spending, right? Christmas lists grow like Chia Pets, right before our eyes. And that means digging into your budget or becoming serious about coupons and discount codes.

          And then I caught that bug that’s going around—the sore throat and cough that seems to have hit every family. So that meant no more in-store shopping. It’s on-line or nothing now.

          But I managed to get some incredible bargains and had to brag to St. Bob with what squeaks were left of my crackly voice.

          “I just saved $18 because I had a code,” I said.

          And here’s his response: “You mean they would have charged you more if you didn’t have a cold?”

          Yes, this is how we get better in the Hilton house. We simply have to.

          And it’s not too late to get multiple copies of my booklet, A Little Christmas Prayer, on Amazon. Maybe the best Christmas story you can give, whether you have a cold or not.

Wrongo

           Do you have any idea how often I’m wrong? Take a guess and join my world, because you, too, will be wrong.

          It’s a lot. I know that’s not a specific number, but neither is tons, gobs, heaps, or loads. And I’m not even sure I’m right about that.  Maybe back in the 1400s some peasant in England decided “heaps” was an exact measurement of some kind.

          My latest wrong speculation was that an apostle from our church was coming to visit our area because they’re creating a new stake. I was sure of this conjecture and shared it at a Christmas party.

          Of course my daring compatriots immediately seized upon this opportunity to profit from my over-confidence. They said if I was wrong, I’d have to throw the next party.

          You guessed it. No new stake. Joni thus had to throw a New Year’s Eve party, but the good news is that we’re on the West coast, and we could have a New York New Years’ by watching the ball drop at 9 pm and calling it a night.

          So, if on occasion you find yourself being dead wrong about something, I say celebrate. Being wrong means you are self-educating. That sounds intelligent to me. By the way, did you know that intelligent people have more zinc and copper in their hair? Needless to say, nobody’s testing my zinc or copper.

And that zinc/copper thing may be a myth. What’s not a myth is that my books are all available here at rock-bottom prices, but mountain-top values!

Oh, the Hugh Manatee!

        It’s Christmastime, so it’s time for my annual gift-making disaster story. Usually it’s a craft, but this time it’s baked goods. The first idea was to make candy cane breads that would look like this:

           But I doubled the recipe and made the loaves too large. Thus they looked like manatees (or fat otters) curling up for a nap together: 

          Not to be dissuaded from continuing with this stupid idea, I decided to make braided bread instead. More mixing. More rising.  The goal was this: 

          But it came out looking like baby aliens. This one even has a face!  

              This one looks like it landed on Santa and crushed him:

              Maybe I’ll just say, “Here’s some Alien bread. Hope your Christmas is out of this world.” 

          And you MUST buy A Little Christmas Prayer which is the ideal gift for anyone, any age, any faith. Even for a manatee.

Heads Up

          Every year there’s a funniest, weirdest, or most treasured Christmas or Hanukah present, right?  This year our son, Brandon, had been telling a client about his TV game show dad, and brought up St. Bob’s Wikipedia page.    

          Suddenly he noticed a live ebay auction going on, for an 8x10 head shot of him. Someone in Pennsylvania had been saving this publicity photo for umpty-ump years and was finally selling it (How could they? They must have died, right? I mean, who could part with this?). So Brandon bought it and gave me this photo that I had never seen before:

          Now, c’mon. This is one heckuva hunky guy, right? Look at that movie stah hair! And check out the vintage clothing. What a dreamboat.

          Brandon also gave his brother, Richie, a phenomenal tower of Selenite, which can be lit up like we did in this photo:

          Richie’s a geologist, so it was perfect. Then Brandon started opening a gift from Richie (they have a tradition of making this difficult with duct tape, staples, and all manner of obstacles), and Richie said, “Okay, this gift might need some explanation.”

          At this point third son, Cassidy, said, “What is it—a severed head?”

Richie and I locked gazes and laughed. “Funny you should say that,” he said. And, sure enough, it was a severed head. Although it was not as large as the one Richie had ordered.

Yep, an alligator head. The perfect gift for someone who has everything else.

Nicole made her famous Norwegian waffles,

the kids went rock climbing and zip lining, 

we made our traditional gingerbread house, 

daughter-in-law Tiffany gave me a hilarious bottle of Tabasco (I am not a big spice person) that she got out of our own fridge, and we played games and laughed our heads off. Maybe that’s where this whole severed head thing started.

You do realize that you can buy my Christmas book any time of year, right? It’s about gratitude, and how it sometimes takes a child to raise a village. Incredibly low price, too!

Not a Creature was Stirring?

I don’t get why I have to have a rodent-themed Christmas. Last time I told you our new tradition was having a surgery-themed Christmas. But the longer tradition involves rats and mice.

Simon, our ninja cat, keeps bringing in live mice and then letting them go. Our son, Brandon, says cats do this when they think you have no hunting skills. They treat you like you’re their kittens and they need to train you.

I doubt very much that cats think anything through as thoroughly as this. I mean, what’s a cat’s IQ—10?

          So now we have a mouse hiding in a drawer in the laundry room. I can picture a little mouse real estate agent telling him the place shows dark, and the mouse grinning and saying, “Where do I sign?”

Obviously he hasn’t read T’was the Night Before Christmas. We’re trying to capture him, but mice are quick and sneaky.

You’d think this wouldn’t be that difficult. When our son, Richie, was a little boy he asked, “Why do owls come out at night?” I told him it was because mice come out at night. He said, “Then why do mice come out at night?” And we’re back to IQ again.

          Years ago a rat collapsed and died under our tree, trying to get to the water in the tree stand. Good heavens, right? 

          Then one year I was painting our windows with Christmassy themes and added a tiny little mouse, asleep in a wreath with his little stocking hung nearby. I continued this each year, and one year painted him just a bit too large.  “A Christmas Rat!” the kids squealed, thrilled with this tradition that I blogged about here.

          And now Tiffany, our daughter-in-law, has NAMED the latest mouse Reggie. The one we’re trying to capture and relocate in the nearest wilds. But if he’s named then he becomes a pet!

          I just don’t know. Maybe my own IQ is the real problem here.

You can come over and help me on Mouse Watch. When it’s not your shift you can read one of my books!

Ever Tried This Christmas Tradition?

          We all have holiday traditions, right? It seems mine is to have major medical procedures on them. My main cancer surgery was right before Thanksgiving last year, followed by another two surgeries right before Christmas. Then I started chemo on Valentine’s Day. I think radiation began on St. Bob’s birthday, and now I’m having reconstructive surgery right before Christmas again. I sure know how to get out of cooking a giant feast!

          However, as you read this I am now back from a lengthy hospital stay and am enjoying a whole new tradition: Christmas fireworks. At least that’s what I am anticipating as ALL of our wonderful grown children are with us (hasn’t happened in a long time!) and it’s up to them to cook. One is vegan, one is keto, one avoids glutin, one likes junk food and one hates to cook. Should be hilarious. (Plus varied political views which I have told them to keep to themselves but you know how that works.)

          I’m thinking I will pull up a nearby chair, sit there in my pain-med-induced stupor, and enjoy the entertainment.  

St. Bob has planned a wonderful day for them: Zip-lining, rock climbing, and a Via Ferrata rope challenge at the local Quarry Park Adventures. But I fully expect our plans to get rained out. Plus I looked at the website, saw the words “Free Fall,” and now I’m praying for snow. One Christmas hospital visit is enough, right?

Even though it’s Christmas Eve, you can order a sleigh-ful of my Christmas booklet, A Little Christmas Prayer. You can enjoy it throughout the season (hopefully without any injuries) and even stock up early, for next year.

What You Don’t Need to Get Me for Christmas

          Online shopping has changed the world. And whether you shop online or in brick-and-mortar stores, you’re probably doing more of it this time of year as we look for Christmas and Hannukah presents to give those we love.

And that means catalogs in your mailbox, ads on your screens, and marketing of all kinds urging you to buy, buy, buy.

But some gifts deserve a bye-bye. Here are several gifts you don’t need to give me for Christmas:

First, a Dog DNA test which costs $60-$130.  I cannot fathom feeling blessed by knowing my chihuahua-terrier mix is officially part chihuahua and part terrier.  People who care about those things usually have purebred dogs with pedigree papers.  The rest of us have mutts and the last thing we need to know is that they’re part Australian Shepherd and should be a whole lot smarter than they’re letting on.

And speaking of dogs, I also don’t need a Smart Dog Collar. First of all, that sounds like it’s for smart dogs and that lets Mickey out of the running entirely. But even if you realize this is a collar with GPS tracking, don’t you know where your dog is, already? Are people really leaving the doors open and giving their dogs run of the entire world?

I also don’t need unicorns made of particle board that you can burn in your fireplace, a blanket that looks like a tortilla so you can be a burrito, a gnome disguise for my blender, a skull butter dish, a birdhouse that looks like a football helmet, a shark costume for my cat, hot sauce guaranteed to induce a heart attack, or a sofa cover that looks like a giant Lego.

I know, I know, some of these gifts just cry to be purchased, but this year you can save untold sums of money by not getting me any of the above. Instead—and this will stay nicely inside anyone’s budget—you can buy a boatload of my new books (A Little Christmas Prayer) on Amazon for only $3.49 each! This heartwarming Christmas story about gratitude is perfect for kids or adults of any faith. Aren’t you glad you subscribe to this blog? Now your shopping is done!

AD infinitum

         Well, you made it through the holidays. And now, if you are online -----and I believe you are—you are seeing a zillion ads for the things you bought for Christmas or Hanukah.  Or thought about buying.

          Yes, you are being tracked every minute you have a screen before your face. If you so much as Google Wind in the Willows you will be bombarded with ads for toad clothing, toad houses, toad recordings, and toad viewing vacations.

          This also wrecks any surprises you may have planned. By typing in men’s neckties or slippers or sporting goods or games or jackets, you have alerted the world that you now want to see at least 80 ads for these items, and they will pop up when the gift recipient is standing behind you or perhaps on the family computer himself. “Why are there so many ads for concert tickets?” he will ask. 

          If you are in a book club and look into buying The Sun Also Rises from Amazon, you will soon see ads for every book under the sun about the sun.

          It’s like having a nosy neighbor who leans over the fence and says, “So I hear Joni’s getting you a cookbook. Are you taking up cooking? What do you like to cook? My sister is a cook. I thought about being a cook. It was for a Chicago-style pizza place. I have some albums by Chicago. You like music? I know some musicians. Or maybe it’s magicians. You like magic tricks? Speaking of tricks, we had a lot of trick-or-treaters this year.”

          Just to cover my bases, I have VERY nice neighbors who would never do this. But then none of them are in the computer ad business.

          I should run ads for my books!  All you get is a little blurb at the end of my blog, when I could be bombarding the world with graphics and videos!  I am missing the boat (and please do not start sending me boat ads).