Natalie Whatley

One holiday down. I bet most of you have come out of the Thanksgiving-food coma, but I’m happily still sedated. Don’t worry. I did it on purpose as it’s my preferred state this time of year.

I thoroughly enjoy holiday get-togethers and spending time with extended family. However, I hate shopping. Period. Any time. And the shopping atmosphere during the holidays: loathe entirely. Even the music gets on my nerves. Do I sound Grinchy? Good. That’s what I was aiming for.

I’m not sure when or how I turned so sour on the holiday season, but I am concerned that my awful attitude will grow and I’ll be an old, bitter, nasty woman who no one will want to be around. Oh my. How sick is it that that almost sounds like a good plan? Hey, a girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do to get a little peace and quiet.

Kidding aside—and maybe there is more than a slight possibility I wasn’t kidding— why does it take so much stuff to celebrate? Yes, I’m a mom. I get it. It’s incredible to behold the sparkle in a young child’s eye as he experiences the magic of Christmas, but I’m a firm believer in “less is more”. Trust me when I say that sweet little cherub will one day be a hormonal teenager. Save some of that wanting to “give ‘til it hurts” in reserve . . .  you’re going to need it.

Anyway, getting back to our compulsion for over-the-top consumerism, I’d just like to buy myself a little sanity and tranquility for the holiday season. Then I’d be fully equipped to give respect, common courtesy, a helping hand, a smile, and even the benefit of the doubt that underneath that crabby lady who elbowed her way to snatch the last whatsit from my weary hands is under normal circumstances a decent human being.

My bah-humbugness aside, people I love would be disappointed if I didn’t hop on the runaway holiday freight train, so I will join the masses and do my part in keeping retailers merry. And because I know many of you will be there with me, I’d like to remind everyone of a few things.

The Baytown Police Department’s Crime Prevention Office doesn’t want the spirit of giving lulling us into providing opportunities for crooks.

Park in well lit areas and make note of where you parked. Upon returning to your vehicle, have your keys ready. (Ladies, this is NOT the time to be digging through your purse.)

If you will be shopping several stores, hide previous purchases in the trunk or somehow place items of value where they are not visible by a passerby.

If possible, don’t shop alone. Stay alert and be aware of your surroundings. Carry purses close to the body and avoid carrying large amounts of cash. Also, don’t overburden yourself with packages.

Remember if you’re stressed out and in a hurry you’re more likely to become careless and unwittingly assist a real Scrooge. I know . . . IF?  Be careful out there, my friends.

© 2010 Natalie Whatley

Now that Thanksgiving is over, let the hustle and bustle begin! In recent years, retailers forced us into Christmas mode the day after Halloween; some sneaky ones started before that. I fell prey to such tactics and in years past gloated over having shopping completed by this point. I wish I could get back in that pattern because having that task out of the way cleared my mind and calendar for appointments with joyful and triumphant. For some, desiring the company of those two is, “no appointment necessary” – if only I could be so spontaneous.

Part of the problem: I’m just not that into the holidays any more. Sad, but true. It’s all become over-the-top and too much for my enjoys-peace-and-quiet, introverted self. Cindy Lou Who, of “The Grinch Who Stole Christmas”, summed it up quite nicely when she told her father, “It’s just that I look around at everyone getting all kerbobbled. Doesn’t this seem superfluous?” I’ll say it for you, “Bah humbug!” It’s just that I’d rather make a special day over something unimportant to the rest of the world than participate in mass festivities; I’m a bit of a rebel that way.

To get through the season with a socially acceptable level of style and grace, I employ a multitude of coping strategies. All the usual suspects are used: exercise (I’m convinced the mental health benefits far outweigh the physical), eating healthily, taking vitamins, getting adequate amounts of sleep, drinking plenty of water,  not overloading the calendar, beating my head against the wall while mumbling incoherently . . .

This year, I researched additional prospective tactics to add to the tool chest as I found myself stressed long before the holidays arrived. An article on the Mayo Clinic website suggests “being realistic and planning ahead”.  Shoot, there’s another problem: I’m steeping in realism, and “planning ahead” (laugh). I try, but with four other people, a dog, a cat, 2 hamsters, 3 automobiles, and a home, the monkey-wrench possibilities are endless. 

Another interesting pointer came to me via e-mail from Dr. Oz’s Real Age Newsletter and caused me to welcome a germ into my world with open arms. Supposedly, I can introduce the inner embryo of the wheat kernel to my oatmeal and it will make me feel less stressed.

Wheat germ contains the phytonutrient octacosanol, which is known to help increase physical endurance and improve the body’s ability to handle stress. From the virtues extolled, one could sprinkle this stuff on just about anything – even glazed, fried-in-lard donuts – and make it healthy. OK, not really. But seriously, sprinkling is for stress sissies; open the jar and dump it down the old gullet. (Maybe have a glass of water handy. I haven’t tried it yet, but it looks pretty dry. And I would be remiss if I didn’t mention wheat germ is very high in fiber. How to put this politely? Well, if the bathroom isn’t a place of refuge, don’t follow the whole-jar advice.)

 It will all be over before we know it, and it’s coming regardless of whether or not the house is decorated and the “perfect” gifts are under the tree.  And I will enjoy numerous things, but I can guarantee not one of them will come with tags, my peace and joy always comes without packages, boxes, and bags!

© 2009 Natalie Whatley

The paragraphs below are what I hashed out after three weeks of running at a crazed pace. In some ways I can hardly wait for life to slow down, but I’m very aware of the price. Like many of you, I’m in the trenches of parenthood 24/7. Some days the trench fills with water, and I struggle to keep my head above the surface. Others…why, I have the most beautiful trench there ever was. I hope you enjoy it. Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night!

‘Twas the week of Christmas, and all through my mind, not a coherent thought was stirring, not even a rhyme. The lights were hung ‘round the house without harm, no body parts broken, or too much cause for alarm. Christmas parties were had, social obligations fulfilled, and all I wanted was some quiet and still. The children wrote lists as long as North Main, while dollar signs floated ‘round their father’s brain.

And Papa with his headache, and I with my new cat, were hoping one day it’d be possible to just take a nap. When from the upstairs there came a horrid smell. I looked up at the ceiling and started to yell. Away to grab Lysol, I ran a mad dash, began spraying the air wondering which kid to splash.

The light on the carpet outside the bathroom lit the offending parties — they’ll be needing a broom. When what to my frustrated eyes should appear three young people frolicking in good cheer. With an old dog in on the fun, I knew right that moment they’d better run! Faster than lightning the children they split, as they had no idea which gluteal target I’d get.

To a clean bathroom before the herd bathes, I pay homage to my silly rage. So down to the rooms I fly lickety-split, with a few thoughts in mind and envisioning a sit. In that moment, I felt in my heart, the tugging of strings from children so smart.

As I drew in a breath and dared turn around, up in years they went, almost without making a sound. Dressed in much bigger clothes, they’ll all be taller than me. I barely saw it happen. Could it truly be? Larger amounts of knowledge they now carry in their heads. Looks like they’re growing up; it’s full speed ahead.

Their eyes how they wonder, their smiles, how toothy. Their faces are changing, and at times they act goofy. Their mouths sometimes speak in ways that amaze.  And the kind things they do leave me in a proud haze.

With a tiny bit of childhood left, maybe they can handle my not always being deft. The years they’ve gone by faster than I ever imagined, like the blink of an eye, faster than I ever fathomed. It’s had its ups and downs — I’ve always had doubts. And sometimes I cried after filling their day with shouts.

On the brink of tears, and with a new vision in sight, I’ve learned that giving my best would make things mostly right.  They love me anyway, in spite of mistakes. And I’ll see them through no matter what it takes.  Bowing my head, I pray they’ll be safe, while asking forgiveness for decisions made in haste.

Onward and upward, I hope we’ll proceed; it’s not easy being the one in the lead. But a quiet voice tells me as I turn in for the night, it will all be OK, for your path I will light.

© 2008 Natalie Whatley