Meet Lulu: My summer project

Last summer I shared with Gary my birthday wish: to find a vintage travel trailer to fix up. I thought it would be a fun project and I love those cute trailers.   Always the sensible one to bring me down to earth, Gary opened my eyes to the potentially complicated realities of such an endeavor.  

I put the idea aside until driving home from a camping trip this past June. Maybe we were still tripping on the weekend getaway high, but this time Gary seemed downright supportive. Right there in the car I perused craigslist on my phone, found a few to look at, and exactly one week later had Lulu parked in my driveway. 

She came with the name, and we decided to keep it. Lulu is a 1964 Fleetcraft travel trailer. The exterior is adorable I think, although in need of some cosmetic repairs. The interior had great potential but unfortunately the necessary repairs inside are more than skin-deep. 

Major exterior repairs completed: fix broken window seal, repair rear bumper, waterproof and seal entire exterior,  replace front trailer jack, lubricate and re-carpet doorstep.

The inside had five or six major areas of dry-rot and/or mold. To truly restore Lulu to "showroom" condition one would have to practically strip her down to the steel and start over. My goal was simply to have a cute, functional trailer that smells good and isn't going to fall apart when you sit down.

So to begin I had to bake the wet spots dry with a heater, then strip away the damaged wood paneling. My original plan was to replace all of the wood paneling, but I am grateful that my Dad (former professional painter) convinced me just to paint the interior instead. This meant I could leave good paneling in place and simply clean and sand the bad spots. I applied a layer of KILZ to seal in any odor that might have remained, then sanded it down to smooth finish.  In the collage above, each row shows one corner in progression from left to right. 

The previous owner had dismantled the dinette area in the front and used it as storage shelving only. The top left picture shows the bottom shelf which extended all the way across, plus he had a second shelf the same size sitting on top of the support rails he nailed around the outside. I removed the middle section to restore the bench-style seating base. Since the wood inside the walls in the front of the trailer was a little soft, I decided it would be best to leave his supports in place and build out new paneling. I used a nice beadboard panel and added trim around the top.

Painting! My dad, the pro, helped me get started with a complete interior paint job. He even donated the paint out of his supply of random mismatches and leftovers. I chose to leave the cabinetry unpainted because I do love the character of the whitewash wood paneling, and it was still in decent shape on the cabinets. Plus there is really great copper hardware on all the drawers and cabinets that I did not want painted and didn't want to mess with removing or taping them either. 

Describing a few collages of before and after pictures makes this project seem comically simple! I must interject now that it took many weeks of hard work to get to this point! I consulted with a great vintage trailer expert at a local RV shop who provided a lot of free advice and assistance, and I also purchased some parts from him and hired him to complete a number of projects that were beyond my scope of comfort. Unforeseen challenges cropped up continuously. I spent a lot of time researching, planning, figuring, working, and cleaning. Some of the projects were dirty and difficult. Others were kind of fun...and difficult.

I found the greatest fabric material online.  It was just what I wanted: a funky, psychedelic design that incorporated Lulu's turquoise and white color scheme. Without any sort of pattern, my mother and I figured out how to sew the curtains so that the pattern could be seen from inside and outside the windows, could be hung on a rod if desired (I chose to use the vintage ring clips but wanted both options), and looked professional and gorgeous! I had Lulu's zebra rug cleaned (by my wonderful brother) and trimmed it to a better fit. I absolutely love being able to store all of our camping gear right inside the trailer! Lulu has tons of storage space for such a small vehicle. 

The pièce de résistance for me is the dinette set. I bit the bullet and ordered the more expensive vinyl I fell in love with. It has a great textured pattern of circles and has a soft finish that is very comfortable. Since Lulu isn't all square and symmetrical, I custom ordered each piece of foam. My desire to have a table that converted seamlessly into a bed required some creative thinking and mathematics, and I am so proud of the way this engineering feat turned out. 

When it's time to lay down, lift the back cushions out and slide the seat back. This leaves the exact amount of room for the tabletop to rest on the edge of the bench base.  The two back cushions not only fit exactly on top of the table, they are thinner than the seat cushions by exactly the thickness of the table so that the cushions are flush for the bed. It makes me a little giddy because it was not easy to get it all worked out but it turned out so nicely! 

And I sewed the vinyl covers myself too! They look pretty darn good for amateur work, I think. 

A collection of before and afters: The left column shows the back bench/bed area from moldy walls and ugly curtains to finished in the bottom picture with fresh paint, brand new cushions inside the washed folding cover, and adorable curtains. The right column shows the front dinette area from rotten walls to new paneling to finished dinette set. My brother-in-law Randy made the tabletop out of cherry hardwood.

And lastly a collection of different angles and close-ups of the near-finished project. Original mint-green appliances was one of the major selling points for me on this particular trailer: a stove and oven, sink, and old-fashioned ice box. Also the louver-style windows are so charming. 

I wish I could say that Lulu is all done! She was done "enough" to go on her first adventure: a road trip to Southern California and Yosemite National Park in mid-August. But there are still a number of projects to complete to make her as wonderful as she can be. Some are functionality issues such as mounting the spare tire underneath, fixing a broken taillight cover, and getting the plumbing operational (the hand pump works if I put the tube into a jug of water under the sink, but the built-in tank is disconnected and the city-water supply has a crack in the pipe).  Other projects are more cosmetic or fun such as welding on a hitch where we can put our bike rack, repairing the dents and chipped paint on the front panel, and having Lulu's name applied on the outside. And there's more. 

Lulu has been an interesting and challenging project. I purchased the trailer for a good price (Steven, the RV shop guy, reassured me of that when I started learning about all of Lulu's problems and feared I'd been swindled) but we doubled our investment in supply and repair costs. Still, Steven is confident that when we're ready to sell Lulu we will make a profit because of her significantly upgraded condition. In fact, while Lulu spent some time in his repair yard, he had people walk in on a daily basis inquiring after her. I hope we'll get to enjoy many more fun vacations with Lulu before we're ready to get our money back. But it's nice to know the investment isn't just a waste. Now...the additional cost of gas hauling her fat butt might be...that upper bunk bed makes for quite a drain on the MPG. No wonder Airstreams took the industry by storm in the mid-century.

Here is a picture of Lulu on her first road trip, parked in the Yosemite Valley under a towering granite cliff. I am so grateful for all the help I received from Bryan, Steven, Randy, Gary, and my dad on this project. Oh, and Madelyn too! Thank you everyone!

My desk

I am a neat-freak. Dirt and germs do not really bother me, but clutter and disorder cause me a great deal of stress. I love lists, charts, filing systems and containers. I literally run my life out of a day planner ("Blog" is now on my daily task list for November--which is why it gets done). I like my stapler to be parallel to my tape dispenser.  In other words, I like my environment and my mind to be organized and free from chaos.  

That is why, even though I have been buried under my workload this week, I have spent several hours in the last two days scrubbing bathrooms and putting away the nomadic clutter that tends to collect on various surfaces around the house. The effect on my psyche was almost instantaneous, but I knew one more project would have me working more contentedly and efficiently than anything else: organizing my desk. 

Being the anal-retentive type that I am, my desk was not really in an unmanageable state of disorder. But there were some piles that needed a fresh going-through and I decided it was high time I dusted under all my shelves and knick-knacks. Plus I separated ball-point pens from markers in my two pencil cups. You know, the usual stuff I'm sure everyone does to organize their desk...?

Here is the result. I feel lighter just looking at it. That sensation is diminished by looking at the six-inch stack of paperwork removed from the desk which constitutes a significant portion of my "to-do" list. But still. 

I spend a substantial amount of time here. What personalizes my workspace? Here are some items of sentimental value you'll find on my desk, from right to left:

• Pocket-sized book containing The Declaration of Independence and the Constitution of the United States of America
• Commemorative 50th anniversary milk jar from the BYU Creamery, two-thirds full of loose change
• Bouquet of silk flowers found in my car after work one day along with an assortment of random plastic gifts and a card from Gary and Madelyn saying "Enjoy your prizes for winning the 'Best Mommy Ever' award" (this card is also hanging on my wall, and is one of the two there which feature a fart joke punchline)
• The Seven Decisions from The Traveler's Gift by Andy Andrews 
• Six ribbons I have earned for placing in my age group at various races, including the famous first place debacle at my first half marathon
• Framed photo from Madelyn's first birthday
• Figurine of two wolf pups I thought resembled our huskies enough to give Gary as a gift once upon a time--clearly I liked it more than him
• Turtle carved out of stone brought home from one of my parents' many exotic trips
• Sparkly bean bag frog souvenir from trip to Moab, UT in 2003; I gave similar ones to all my Curves employees at the time
• Matryoshka nesting dolls with illegitimate Simpsons artwork, sent by Bridget from Russia (also featured here)

41.5 hours of isolation

Oh, if only it were as good as that title sounds. In reality, I was without a cell phone for a day and a half, which feels rather isolating compared to my usual level of connectedness.

I've temporarily misplaced my phone before. Haven't we all? Usually I find it within a couple of minutes of noticing its absence by retracing my steps and of course the simple call-your-phone-and-listen-for-the-ringtone trick. Most often the phone has been left on the passenger seat of the car when I gathered up my stuff, or set unwittingly on a shelf in my closet when I removed it from my pocket to change.

Do you know what turns 'misplacing your phone' into 'losing your phone?' I'll tell you. If you don't realize that you've misplaced your cell phone until the battery has expired, and it is not in any visible location, then you have lost your cell phone.  Since my phone's battery was nearly dead before it disappeared, I was left to super-sleuth this mystery.

Here are the known facts:

• My husband called me at 3:46pm when I was driving away from a gas station 20 miles from home. This was the last call I made or received on the missing phone.
• From there, I drove directly to my house and parked the car in the garage.
• I carried my sleeping daughter to her crib, brought all my stuff inside the house, made a sandwich in the kitchen, and started working in my office.
• At 5:17pm the phone's absence was discovered.

Based on those facts it is clear that my phone had to be somewhere in my house, car, or garage. Normally, that incontrovertible evidence would be reassuring, because it would offer the relief that the phone was not stolen or left behind at one of any number of errand-running locations.  However, as my search grew longer and more intense without success, the indisputable fact that it had to be here somewhere became inconceivable.

Sometimes my cell phone slides under the seat of the car or between the seat and console. I checked there. Gary checked there. Gary checked again with a flashlight. I checked with a flashlight again from every possible angle and in every possible crevice.  I looked under the cars and in corners of the garage where the phone might have been inadvertently kicked after dropping. Nothing.

Of course I checked all of the obvious places in my house too, again and again, anywhere that the phone might possibly be.  Then I found myself looking in places that the phone could not possibly be. The shower. Cupboards I haven't opened all week that are too high for Madelyn to reach. Pockets of clothes I had not been wearing.

It was garbage collection night. I put on my flip flops and jacket, then went out to the curb in the rain with a flashlight and searched through our garbage and recycling bins.  How easily my phone could have been knocked off my desk into one of those receptacles and then gathered up unknowingly with the rest of our refuse. No amount of digging revealed my phone, and I was cold, wet, and grossed out.

It had to be somewhere, but it was nowhere.  I envisioned seemingly impossible ways that the mystery could eventually be solved:

Gary, on some future moving day: "What do you know your phone got in the bottom of this file cabinet drawer!"

Me, searching for a bag of peas: "Oh here it is, at the bottom of the freezer!"

The vet: "Here's the reason Kezia's been vomitting all day."

The plumber: "I've seen a lot of things stuck in a P-trap before, but I don't think you're going to want to use this phone again."

We have a land line, but it is set up as a fax line on which we can also make outgoing calls. So thankfully I was able to use the handset to call the people who depend on communicating with me and tell them I wouldn't be receiving calls and I didn't know for how long. I'm on my computer most of the day anyway, so I explained that they could email and ask me to call them if they needed to. But it made me nervous for my husband to be unable to call me during his work day.  And to think that others might leave an urgent message and not realize that I did not intend to ignore them.  Then Saturday morning, while Madelyn and I prepared to leave the house to run several errands in various corners of the city, I grew increasingly anxious about not having any way to contact someone were the need to arise. I even packed up my laptop and Clear mobile modem so that I could access the internet if I needed directions or information or needed to contact someone for help.  I can even send text messages right from my beloved Gmail.  Many great ideas come to me when I'm driving, or I remember people I've been meaning to call back, etc., so the thought of spending a day in the car without my phone was unnerving for a variety of reasons.

As I was buckling Madelyn into her carseat, these concerns were making me apprehensive. Like I had so many other times during the past 40 hours, I began searching in my vicinity again. I knew I had looked under these car seats half a dozen times, but I also knew that the phone could not have simply immaterialized.  So back down to the floorboards I went, and noticed this time a piece of plastic casing beside the seat that was slightly open, making me wonder if the phone could have slid off the seat into this little pocket.  I could not see it in there, but while peering intensely into the dark, I did notice a tiny corner of silver plastic hiding behind a black metal bracket. Could it be?

Yep, it was. My phone was there under the car seat as I originally guessed, only it was somehow nestled in a little cranny-nook that was nearly impossible to see--even with a flashlight--from all the vantage points we attempted. I even scratched up my hand a bit trying to jimmy it out of its hidey-hole. Now, had the battery not been dead, I could have heard that the phone was indeed in the car, and would have been able to see the light from its screen to easily locate it.

They say you don't know how much you use something until it's gone. What a bunch of bull.  I know exactly how much I use my phone, and the moment I realized it wouldn't be easily found, I was distraught.  I am truly grateful to live in a time where communication is so easy and prevalent.  Some folks wistfully yearn for the "simpler times," but to them I say, "How simple was it to call a tow-truck from the side of the freeway?" "How simple was it to ensure that you were never running behind for fear you might miss an important meeting because you couldn't call to say you'd be there in ten?" "How simple was it to stop at a gas station and use the grimy yellow pages to look up the phone number for the store you couldn't find?"  "How simple was it to gather up the kids for an urgent trip to pick up the last dinner ingredient before your husband got home, even though he drives right by the grocery store on his way?"

The mystery of the disappearing phone is solved. And what a relief.  Because I like my "complicated" days of mobile communication.

Six fads frozen in time

Allow me to explain why my title is not redundant. Yes, a fad is generally defined as a short-lived craze, but consider that many trends experience a distinct spike in popularity followed by decline, but maintain a continued presence on a much smaller scale in popular culture or daily life, as applicable.  New technology in particular has a way of seeming faddish at first, but as its use becomes more prevalent, the object in question becomes commonplace.

The other day I drove by a man walking a black Scottish Terrier.  I don't see this breed around much for some reason, and the moment I saw it, my mind flashed immediately to the old sweatshirts that filled my closet (as well as those of my sister and mother) featuring two Scottie Dogs facing each other and usually some argyle or hearts to complete the look.  A vision of this dog brought me back to that distinct period of style, and was the inspiration for this post as I recalled various specific objects that enjoyed their 15 minutes of fame during my youth and then have scarce to be heard from since. Many fads come and go within a category, for example nobody wears Lee jeans anymore, but we still wear jeans.  And the really big Hollywood-style sunglasses will surely start to be uncool at some point, but I don't predict that sunglasses themselves will go out of fashion.  Some (but not all) of the items on my list are objects which have nearly ceased to exist since the end of their reign, and therefore create a very strong connection with their period of popularity. I'll tell you mine, and you tell me yours!

1) Puffy Paint Couture. If the dogs on the aforementioned sweatshirts weren't puffy-painted, then you'd better believe there were sweatshirts with ironed-on kitties and Christmas wreaths nearby that were.  Okay, I've seen puff paints used in crafts on occasion, but they aren't the fashion statement they once were.

2) Troll dolls. I had myself a hefty collection of these. I never really played with them, just owned them.

3) Slap bracelets. I remember coveting all varieties of these bracelets in precisely 5th grade. Shiny, fuzzy, tie-dyed, you name it.

4) MAGIC cards. I never actually played with these myself, I swear. I wouldn't be able to tell you the difference between the planes of Shadowmoor and Lorwyn (just looked that up on a website, ha ha).  But I do remember hordes of boys hovering around them at the cafeteria tables in junior high, followed by much smaller groups of late-blooming boys huddled around them at the cafeteria tables in high school.

5) Pogs. What were these things exactly? I just remember them being all the rage for a while. Apparently we kids were tricked into obsessing over cardboard discs with printed images. Some of them were sparkly though!

 

6) Scrunchies. The staple hair (and wrist) accessory of the mid-nineties. And then they simply disappeared without a trace.  Conspiracy? Perhaps.

So what nearly-forgotten objects hold the power to transport you to distinct memories of their era? 

Goodwill treat, or trick?

Since last year was Madelyn's first walking Halloween, she needed a candy bucket. I sent my husband on the mission to find one for her at Goodwill in mid-October. I wanted a vintage-style plastic jack-o-lantern, like the kind I used as a kid. The one Gary purchased is much bigger than I had hoped for (since Madelyn was quite small), but he reported that there was not nearly the selection of plastic pumpkin candy buckets at Goodwill that I had confidently assured him there would be. So in light of that, this pumpkin was perfect.

Madelyn~October 2008~ready to get some candy

I'll have to explain her "costume" later this week

When I pulled out the Halloween decorations earlier this month, Madelyn discovered the jack-o-lantern bucket among them. My daughter is very fond of totes. She has a variety of purses, bags, baskets, buckets, and boxes that she will use for varying intervals to store and carry her "treasures." At any given time her preferred tote might contain a small stuffed animal, a set of alphabet flash cards, a ladybug ring, an acorn, or really anything small enough to fit inside that she deems of interest. It is adorable. So some days this month we've gone to a store or restaurant with a giant orange pumpkin in tow.

Last week I happened to notice the stickers on the bottom of our pumpkin bucket.

The sticker on the left is the label from the original store where this bucket was purchased (I think Target), before eventually being cast away to Goodwill, and then purchased by us. That price tag says $0.79. The Goodwill price tag on the right says $1.99. We are suckers.

Okay, so the buck and twenty cents more that we paid is not the issue here. $1.99 is a fair price for a classic jack-o-lantern bucket. I'm not complaining about the cost, but I find this comical. The original price is right there on the item, but the person at Goodwill labeling it didn't either consider setting the price to reflect the original new-item cost, or at least scrape off the sticker to avoid any potential customer agitation.

This scenario reminded me of my distaste for Goodwill. The fact is, they are by far the easiest place to donate unwanted goods. But most unwanted goods would serve a much better purpose being donated to a truly worthy cause such as a shelter or community outreach program. Whenever possible, I prefer to donate to these organizations, because I know that the items will be given for free to people genuinely in need.

Goodwill, on the other hand, accepts your castoffs at zero cost-of-goods, and re-sells them for a profit. Don't let that non-profit status fool you. While Goodwill Industries does utilize a large percentage of income to provide employment assistance and training, there are also a lot of people making a lot of money. Non-profits' income simply must be dispersed at the end of each fiscal year, and that isn't difficult to do. For example, after coming under the attorney general's scrutiny in 2005, the president of the Portland-area Goodwill chapter agreed to a 24% salary reduction from his 2004 earnings of $838,508.

All from those $5.99 shirts and $1.99 pumpkin buckets that Goodwill gets for free.

Everyone has a right to make money, and I am a proponent of the free market. I don't boycott Goodwill, but I think their non-profit status is a little hokey. Sometimes, like most people, I just need a quick way to get rid of some old stuff, and Goodwill has that figured out. Today, I went to Goodwill looking for a couple of items to create an acceptable Halloween "costume" for my Bah Humbug hubby to wear at our party this weekend. And I couldn't help but notice that amidst the piles and racks of junk, there were some really great "treasures" at excellent prices.

So Goodwill really has us in its grasp: they make donating SO easy, and--in spite of some pricing snafoos such as my pumpkin's 250% mark-up--sell decent stuff at reasonable prices if you can find what you're looking for. All that is required to shop there is PATIENCE and an impervious sense of smell (or a nose plug--it always smells so weird in there!)

Toy swap

Moms Club is having a "toy swap" at our monthly meeting this Friday. I'm not really interested in giving away toys that Madelyn has outgrown because hopefully there will be another little infant/toddler in our family one day who can enjoy them later. Plus, high-quality items can actually make me money to buy new toys (or whatever) when I am ready to get rid of them. I guess I'm too selfish or too poor (both) to give away the good stuff.

I finally found a few minutes today to clean up the clutter that had been relentlessly building around my house, and since 82% of the misplaced items belonged in the toy cabinets, I decided I'd take a quick look and see if there were a few things we really didn't need anymore and wouldn't ever miss.

The truth is, we don't have a large number of toys. Most of them can fit into these two lovely cabinets in our family room.

I also put some of the larger items such as a set of large wooden blocks and the IKEA tunnel in the upper cabinet, where the flatscreen TV that we don't own would otherwise go. There is a play kitchen in the dining room, and in Madelyn's room we have a full bookcase (full of books) and way too many stuffed animals (all contained in a hanging organizer and baskets when not sharing Madelyn's bed or being toted in a purse). That's about it! So we don't have an overabundance of toys, and as you can see, I like to keep them organized.

So I didn't have much to select from, but I found a few items I was happy to clear out of the bins. I just hope I can sneak them onto the swap table without drawing attention to my connection with them, because I'm a little bit embarrassed about the lame selection.

Out of the handful of books I quickly grabbed, one's pages are detached from the hardcover binding, and another needs lift-the-flap repair. The rest are in less-than-stellar condition as well. The entire middle row of toys came from fast food meals with the grandparents. I happened upon the pink hippo on a Monday morning walk in a box marked "FREE" at the end of a driveway in my neighborhood and let Madelyn play with it in the stroller. Is a PEZ dispenser really considered a toy? Madelyn "borrowed" Spiderman from her cousin, and I noticed an identical one among my sister's items at the consignment sale, so I'm hoping she's cool with me donating it (I'll check first). The globe "stress ball" is a promotional item with some company logo on it we must have picked up at a fair or something.

Pretty pathetic, huh. Listen, Madelyn enjoyed each of these items for a short while, but I don't want them anymore. Maybe someone else's child will enjoy one for a time before they too decide to pass it along. And any toys that aren't chosen at the swap will be compiled into a box for kids to play with at the monthly meetings. So I imagine any contribution will be appreciated.

Of course, we were supposed to have a costume exchange at last month's meeting and only one person brought a costume, so maybe I'll luck out and the toy swap won't even happen. Then these silly toys can just be donated to charity where no one will know who shamefully brought them.

I heart Pass it On

In the spring of 2006, I became involved with the Pass it On children's consignment sale as a vendor. At the time, my husband and I were thinking about starting our own family, but I didn't have a reason to buy any baby or kids' items at the sale. My jewelry booth was not getting much action, however, so I sat and read a funny book called The Girlfriend's Guide to Pregnancy, which I ended up purchasing and finishing at home (good for a laugh, but don't let it be the only book you read when expecting--it is mostly filled with complaints about pregnancy discomfort). What I didn't know then was that my little girl was already a cluster of rapidly dividing cells that day.

Since the first sale I participated in, I have been involved with the semi-annual Pass it On event in various vendor capacities promoting Curves and/or selling jewelry. I've seen the sale expand and improve, each time practically busting the seams of its venue. And obviously, I've been a loyal shopper beginning in the fall of 2006, when I waddled through the aisles a couple of months before giving birth.

I anticipate Pass it On for months, and even wait to buy things for Madelyn if the need isn't too urgent, because I know I'll be able to get fantastic deals on everything all in one place. The selection of gear, clothing, toys, and more is always good, especially as the sale has grown to over 60,000 items this past weekend.

I shopped at another consignment event in the past where each family had their own "booth" and you paid them directly for their items. This meant having to bring cash to pay for one or a few items at a time. Plus, it's common to visit sales like this looking for a specific item or type of item. So if I were looking for girls' clothes in size 18-24 months, or a certain brand of nursing pillow, it meant wandering every booth in search. At Pass it On, all items are organized by type and size. Each consignor has a number and the items are all tagged with prices and barcodes, so in the above scenario I could go directly to girls' 18-24 months clothing and select from every item available, then mosey over to the "feeding" area and see if that nursing pillow was available. Then I bring my IKEA shopping bag (usually filled to the brim) to the checkout line and pay for all the items with my Visa.

This season I mainly needed new clothes for Madelyn: more long-sleeves, new shoes and jammies, etc. Take a look at my sweet haul, for all of which I paid ONLY $87:

7 long-sleeved shirts

1 hoodie

1 heavy sweater

3 pairs pants

1 adorable skirt

2 pajama sets

1 rain coat

1 plush terry robe

1 ballet leotard and ballet slippers

2 pairs shoes

1 pair furry slippers

1 Adidas sling bag

$87.00

Average price per item = $3.78

A few of these items were brand new with tags. Most of the others look like they were hardly worn or are in excellent condition. I get so excited, it's like Christmas--or maybe Halloween--bringing home my bag of goodies and setting it all out to show my husband. He's never quite as outwardly enthused as me, but I know he appreciates the bargains.

In the spring I was interested in buying a booster seat for our kitchen table, and a friend highly recommended the Cooshie Booster, which retails for $50. This was only a few days before Pass it On, so of course I checked there first, and wouldn't you know there was ONE Cooshie Booster for sale there, so I greedily snatched it up. Pricetag? FIVE dollars. It's definitely used (the previous owner had a propensity for stabbing the foam with his or her fork), but seriously, five bucks.

I also scored a set of Care Bear dominoes last time for Madelyn so she'll be less interested in interfering with the grown-ups' game of Mexican Train dominoes. A dollar. And a barely-used down sleeping bag from REI that will fit Madelyn until she's into double-digits for ten dollars.

That's just a sampling of the exciting finds in non-apparel I've made at Pass it On recently.

I have also consigned some of our gently used baby gear and clothing for the past two sales now. I'm not interested in selling at consignment stores because it is so much work for the possibility of making a small portion of the price of your items a few months down the road. For Pass it On, I enter all of my inventory through an online portal. I choose the category, size, and type a brief description. I name the price, and check boxes indicating whether I want the item discounted on the last day of the sale or not, and whether I want the item donated if it is not sold by the end or not. I like that you can make those distinctions for each individual item. Then I print the tags with barcodes, and use my fun little tagging gun I bought for $10 to attach them to my clean and pressed clothing and other items. I arrive at my chosen drop-off session and the items are inspected and accepted (usually a few things get rejected for being in the wrong season or because of a stain I didn't notice). Throughout the sale I can check what has sold online and see my earnings in real time. At the end of the sale I pick up the unsold items that I wanted returned, and there is even a "Dollar Dash" where each consignor can buy up to 20 items slated for donation at a buck each. That money is donated to the charity to help them buy larger items.

Consignors earn a minimum of 70% of your sales. By volunteering to work shifts at the sale, you can increase your commission, but I figure you have to sell over $1000 for the additional 10% earned for working 3 shifts to just equal minimum wage (which isn't actually "making" you any money if you consider what your time is worth). I actually think working at the sale would be a lot of fun, but the challenge of arranging for childcare and the substantial value I place on my time prevent me from bothering with it.

In summary, consigning is easy and fun with Pass it On. The sale is definitely worth checking out because there is a huge selection, the items are inspected for quality, and you're bound to find bargains on things you can use. There is a catch-22 here however: for the best selection you should arrive early (especially if looking for larger or more rare items like strollers or Cooshie Boosters), but you will pay the price by waiting in a very, very long checkout line. So plan the time you need to shop, plus up to an hour and a half to wait in line. My suggestion: bring a spouse or grandparent to get in line when you arrive. By the time you're done shopping, it will be time to check out! And also, if you can manage to go without your kids, it will be a much more pleasant experience.

Time for a toddler bed?

Many of my friends have moved their little ones into "big kid" beds, and some of these children are a little younger than Madelyn. Our crib actually features a childproof door which swings open on the front. Using it purportedly helps save Mom and Dad's backs from lifting a heavy child in and out a few times a day, and it promotes independence and self-confidence in the child. The manufacturer also suggests that consistently using the door rather than lifting a baby over the railing prevents the child from learning to try to climb over the railing to get out. I really love the crib, despite my hesitations at the sales presentation where we ultimately purchased it. I'll have to tell you about that sometime.

18-month-old climbing into bed

Peek-a-boo!

June 2008

I would love to have Madelyn in a toddler bed because she could probably get up and go potty and go back to bed all by herself now. I would still go meet her in the bathroom and make sure everything is okay, but it seems like less of a hassle than listening to her cry out and having to escort her every time. Even when she wakes up from a nap or in the morning, I wouldn't mind if she wandered out and played with toys or came to my bed rather than calling for me over and over as if I haven't heard her because of my obvious magical ability to transport myself to her bedside the moment she calls. Normally Madelyn knows when it is time for sleep and would probably stay in her bed without being contained by crib railings.

However, and it's a big however, there are those days now and then where Madelyn resists taking her nap. Naptime is non-negotiable for me, so on days that she doesn't curl up and fall right to sleep, she stays awake in her crib and I attempt to be productive through a sort-of "la la la I can't hear you!" technique. Usually she eventually sleeps, but it might be after 45 minutes or an hour of singing/crying/kicking the wall/giggling. If I weren't able to lock her into the cage that is her crib, what would become of naptime (work and me time)?

Because of our nifty crib door, it seems logical that I have the unique option of "trying it out." I can leave the crib door open and see how it goes for a while before dismantling the crib only to learn that we wish we hadn't done it yet. But I've tried that a few times, and at least once Madelyn thought it was completely silly to leave the door open, and kept slamming it shut. Another time she was alright with leaving it open, but the whole idea distracted her from nodding off because it was novel. There is something about switching altogether to the new style of bed without railings that makes it separate enough not to be associated with the way her crib "should be," if that makes sense.

This common usage of crib door opening demonstrates how sleeping with it open might not be conducive to sleep.

January 2009

While every child is different in these matters, I would appreciate any advice you fellow parents can give me. How do you deal with it when a child doesn't want to go to sleep, but definitely needs a nap, and the ability to keep her in her toddler bed has been eliminated?

One to add to my collection

In case you don't know, I am a very serious fan of The Simpsons. I distinctly remember the weeks of advertising leading up to the series premiere in December 1989, and then eagerly gathering around the television with my entire family to watch that famous first episode, "Simpsons Roasting on an Open Fire." My eight-year-old self latched onto this cartoon family and I feel like we basically grew up together. My personal character developed alongside those of Springfield USA, and as I matured, so did the show. I would say that I credit much of my own sense of humor to The Simpsons, except that I think the more apt analysis is that the series shaped what is considered humorous across popular culture in general. As a long-term fan, I notice the Simpsons' influence in so many movies, TV shows, radio jabber, and more.

The fact that I have seen every single episode aired over 20 years is not as impressive proof of my fanaticism as my prized VHS library. There was a time, not long ago, when you couldn't run to Best Buy or Wal-Mart and pick up your favorite television series' collector's edition DVD with audio commentary and behind-the-scenes footage. Back in the nineties, if you wanted to watch a show under any other circumstances than live at its scheduled time, you would

need to program your Video Cassette Recorder. Taking this idea to a new level, I created an enviable collection of 19 tapes, six to eight hours each, containing episodes recorded from television without commercials. And I carefully cataloged each episode on each tape so that there were no duplicates.

My collection of 19 VHS tapes containing commercial-free, non-duplicated The Simpsons episodes from Seasons 1 through 14

THE SIMPSONS VIII tape with typed episode label as a sample from my prized collection

The project was quite an undertaking. Upon pulling out the videos to snap those photos, I discovered my episode lists from each season with systems for tracking which ones were missing from my tapes, and the scratch paper on which I looked up online and wrote down the dates and times when those episodes would be aired. My mother was a helpful accomplice to my obsession, as she generously bought me tapes with longer recording times, and on many, many occasions sat in front of the TV with the VCR remote to record my episodes and press pause when commercials began and the show resumed. That is true motherly love right there. This endeavor continued into the year 2003, when the accelerated release of complete seasons on DVD threatened to make my collection obsolete. In addition, the invention of TiVo and our "season pass" setting allows me to select from an ever-revolving couple of dozen episodes and watch one by pressing a few buttons on the remote. And I can easily skip the commercials.

I'll let you call me a Simpsons Geek any time. It's an obsession of which I've never been ashamed. And I might not watch those videos right now, but their mere existence is cherished.

As is common when a person indicates an interest in a theme, I have received many Simpsons-related gifts and collected some unique paraphernalia over the years. Here are a few favorite, and more obscure, pieces in my varied collection:

Artwork supposedly signed by Simpsons creator, Matt Groening. It was given to me by one of my high school best friends' dads who dealt in celebrity autographs as a business. I've always wondered at its authenticity, however, especially since he didn't provide any certificate. But I still like it, and yes, I have it framed and hanging on the wall in my house.

Wow, this one is amazing. I don't know where my friend Wiyaka found it, but she sent this Homer marionette of questionable origin for my daughter's first birthday. Technically I guess it belongs to Madelyn, then, who has been able to name the Simpsons family members for about a year now I would guess. (She learned them from the set of nesting dolls below; she doesn't actually watch the show. Yet.)

Madelyn has also commandeered this cool metal lunchbox recently too. She stashed her various trinkets and treasures in there and takes them places.

Another undeniably unlicensed article was mailed to me all the way from the Izmailovsky Market in Russia by my friend Bridget, who was living there at the time. Tiny little Maggie has been misplaced--I can only hope we'll find her when the time comes to move my desk. And Marge's head was sadly crushed underfoot when they were strewn about my office floor by a toddler one day, but the many pieces were carefully superglued back together, and you can't even tell, no? This set of matryoshka dolls is probably my favorite piece of Simpsons memorabilia, due partly to its exceptional distinctiveness and foreign origins, and partly because it reminds me of the bond that Bridget and I shared as teenagers with a mutual appreciation for the creative genius that we knew as The Simpsons.

Yesterday I learned of a new item that I might need to add to my collection:

That sultry temptress Marge has agreed to do a pictorial and appear on the cover of a special Collector's Edition of Playboy as part of the 20th anniversary celebration. I assume the spread will be tasteful and artistic, because surely Marge wouldn't consent to less. Okay, I probably won't buy an issue of "entertainment for men," but I'm curious enough to see it.

Happy upcoming 20th Anniversary, Simpsons!

Nike+ iPod Sensor review

My serious running friends have fancy GPS watches. I was envious of their ability to just step out the front door and run in any direction, knowing they could track their distance and adjust the route as needed to meet a desired goal mileage. My method previously required driving a car and measuring different routes in advance with my odometer. It was time-consuming and involved a lot of trial and error to get the right route for a chosen distance to end up back at home or wherever I might park my car to run.

Then I learned about a website called mapmyrun.com, and realized that I didn't need any fancy equipment to plan my routes. On the website I can simply click my starting point, and click, click, click along the roads on a map. If my unfinished loop isn't going to end up long enough, or is getting too far from home base for my desired distance, I just hit undo a few clicks and add or remove streets as needed. This serves my purpose, and although it doesn't allow the same flexibility as GPS perhaps, it is absolutely free. I just have to spend a few extra minutes planning a route and then committing the important turns to memory before heading out. I also like the ability to email proposed maps to my running buddies, and is especially helpful when I'll be meeting somebody partway through my run because we have different distance goals for the day.

So the distance problem was satisfactorily solved for me on mapmyrun.com. But another very useful feature of the GPS tool is real-time pace tracking. The only way for me to know how fast I run is to do a little math at the very end of my workout: speed = distance / time. I feel that I have reached the point in my training that I am ready to work on increasing my speed and maintaining a more constant pace throughout my runs. In order to do that, I need to know how fast I am going at various points on my course, not just the average at the end.

A new Garmin watch wasn't going to be in the cards for me, that I knew. But a while ago I searched for used models on craigslist and eBay. I couldn't justify buying one of the ancient models when I have heard the technology has been significantly improved over the last few years, but the previously-owned newish models were still out of my budget. And so I accepted that I would do without.

Over the summer, while shopping for a new pair of running shoes at the Nike Factory Store, I noticed most of the shoeboxes were labeled with the Nike+ logo. I had heard of it, but read more information on a little brochure explaining that a Nike+ shoe can talk to your iPod wirelessly with every step, and tell you your time, distance, pace, and calories burned while you run. Bingo.

It didn't take me long to figure out that the shoes are simply Nike+ ready, meaning there is a little compartment in the shoe for the sensor, which would have to be purchased separately. The Nike Plus Sensor sells online for under $30--about a tenth of the price of a Garmin.

At such a small pricetag, the question became not whether I could afford it, but whether it would be worth it. Would it be accurate enough to be useful? For that cheap, there was definitely no GPS technology inside. I searched online for more information about how exactly the Nike+ iPod sensor works, but found very little besides where to buy it. Even the instruction manual pdf did not provide any clues to how the sensor measures distance and pace, or what amount of accuracy should be expected.

I decided to buy one and give it a try. And since I found the internet to be slightly lacking helpful information on this product, I hope that my review will be helpful to some curious shoppers out there.

What is Nike+ iPod sensor?

Essentially the Nike+ sensor is just a pedometer. It tracks your steps. But unlike the cheap little pendulum clip you can attach to the front of your pants, the Nike+ can do instantaneous calculations based on the number of steps you take over measured time intervals to determine your current pace. There is also some calculation for calories burned, and of course it times your workout as well. All of this information is displayed on your iPod screen and can even be received through instant audio feedback on your earphones.

How accurately does Nike+ measure distance?

The sensor comes ready to use out of the box and claims to be "accurate for most runners," but I would highly recommend calibrating it immediately. You simply run an accurately measured distance in the calibration mode (for example 400 meters, one lap around a standard track on the inside lane) and then the sensor (I assume) determines your average stride length.

You can also calibrate the sensor after having completed a run with a known distance, which is a nice feature. I ran with my new, uncalibrated Nike+ sensor alongside a friend with GPS, and mine was pretty far off of her distance measurement. After the run, I simply input the # of miles we had just completed, and it calibrated for future runs. Since then, my Nike+ has provided measurements that are within a tenth of a mile of my Garmin friends'. I also look at the mile-markers on mapmyrun.com before leaving home, and often my Nike+ gives me the mile count within a driveway-length of the satellite map's.

I propose that the longer the run, and the more hills involved (especially if up- and downhill lengths are disproportionate), the less accurate the distance will be. Generally, your stride will be longer going down hill and shorter going up hill, and as far as I can conclude, the Nike+ doesn't have a way to account for these differences. If you go up and down hills fairly evenly, it would probably balance out. Today I planned a 12-mile route on the map website, and when I reached the end of the route, my Nike+ sensor had measured 12.25 miles. That is the most discrepancy I have ever noticed, but my friend also reminded me that those online maps may not be 100% accurate either.

How accurately does Nike+ measure pace?

The answer to this question echoes the previous one. Since the Nike+ sensor determines your average stride length through calibration and then counts the # of steps you take over measured time intervals, its accuracy depends on your stride length remaining constant. Hills, very long runs where you might significantly shorten your stride will impact the pace measurement (as well as distance). For the casual runner, the difference is probably not enough to be concerned about. I also am not sure how long it takes for the sensor to calculate and communicate with the iPod receiver. I would like to know if the lag time is 3 seconds or 10 seconds or 1 second. Overall, for me, the pace reported is close enough. After all, I could previously only venture a guess at my speed without spending $300 on a Garmin.

How does Nike+ interact with the iPod?

Nike+ iPod is supported on all iPod nano models, iPod touch (2nd gen), and iPhone 3G S. So make sure you have one of those. I have an iPod nano 2nd generation, so that's the only model on which I can comment specifically, but the features should be more or less the same on all (and the manual covers the differences in detail).

All of your workout information is displayed on the screen, and you can still control your music throughout. You can choose a male or female voice to give you periodic updates on your distance (or turn the voice off), and press the center button at any time to hear your time, distance, pace and calories. I suppose this is nice if you don't want to have to look at the screen.

I use an arm band for my iPod, and my biggest complaint about the entire system is that it's difficult to read the screen on my arm because the information is upside-down. I would strap the iPod on in an inverted position, except that the case is open on the top, so it would just fall out. Perhaps there is an armband case that is secure on the top so I could wear it upside-down. Hm. I'll have to look into that. Also it is tedious to have to tap the touch pad every time I want an update, as I can't read the screen in motion without the backlight.

Another cool feature is the ability to choose a power song. When in need of some extra motivation, you can hold down the center button and your special song starts a-pumpin'. I haven't actually used that feature yet, but it seems fun.

The iPod interface for Nike Plus also allows you to:

• choose distance, time, or calorie goals for your workout, or just start going.
• listen to any playlist or all songs, or no music. You can receive calls on the iPhone and your workout will automatically be paused.
• review previous workout summaries
• send your workouts to nikeplus.com
• create custom workout shortcuts (this is a useful feature I need to start using!)
• link one iPod receiver to multiple sensors.

What if I don't have Nike+ shoes?

Aha! Nike wants you to think you need those, but it's a trick. I actually saw some poor schmuck selling his sensor on eBay because he realized his shoes aren't compatible with it. Yes, the Nike+ shoes have a foam pad under the foot bed which can be removed and replaced with the Nike+ sensor. Yes that keeps it all neat and tidy and out of your way. But I came across dozens of various sensor "pods" that you can buy for under ten bucks and attach to any shoe. These little pouches hold the sensor and attach to your laces it seems. So you don't need special shoes, but without them you'll need a little pod for the sensor.

How does Nike+ measure steps taken?

I actually don't know the answer to this. Maybe nobody cares, as long as it works. But I am curious. Since the sensor does not need to be under the footbed (see above), the pedometer must not measure steps through impact, so perhaps it is a pendulum effect similar to the cheap hip-clip models. Before I got my own Nike+ sensor and realized that indeed it is just a fancy pedometer, I wondered if there were TWO sensors--one for each foot--which could somehow communicate with one another. If that were the case, distance and time could be very accurate, if the two sensors could measure their distance apart and when they cross each other...I'm no engineer though, and maybe that technology is just in my imagination...thus far. It might use impact, however, without requiring the full weight of the body. Just the impact of foot strike is probably enough to mark a step taken.

Overall, I am very happy that I tried the Nike+ Plus iPod sensor. In my experience Nike+ has delivered surprisingly accurate information; undoubtedly better than no information. For under 30 dollars, it is certainly worth the investment.

This review is based solely on my own personal use of Nike+ and my related opinions. I don't work for Nike or Apple and apologize for any misrepresentations that may unknowingly exist. Hopefully this report provides additional insight to shoppers looking for more information about this product.

As seen on TV

I'm really not a sucker for infomercials. But every now and again a product--and its accompanying dazzling endorsement--comes along that piques my curiosity enough to lead me to purchase it. Usually the ones that are this good eventually end up being sold in stores, which makes me feel less weird about buying them. There is something oddly unnerving about calling an 800-number from the television screen to order. It goes against my belief that I hold against most door-to-door salespeople and telemarketers: if I needed what you are trying to sell, I would have been seeking it out myself.

But those commercials play with your sense of value until you feel it would be wrong not to call in and buy a dozen Sham-WOW's. Or whatever.

An ab-shaper of this quality costs over $149 in stores. {blinking red X flashes over that ridiculous price} Our Sculpt 'n Burn can be yours for only $29.95! But that's not all! Call now and we'll also include our exclusive Belly Firming Cream and Fat Blasting Drink Mix, a $19.99 value, ABSOLUTELY FREE! But wait, that's not all. Mention this ad when you call and we'll send you TWO of everything! That's TWO Sculpt 'n Burns, TWO bottles of Belly Firming Cream, and TWO Cartons of Fat Blasting Drink Mix, all for the low, low price of $29.95. You can't afford to miss out on this incredible offer. Supplies won't last, so CALL NOW!

See, even I can write a commercial that would send a person toward an aneurysm by the third unbelievably insane offer.

As in my facetious (and entirely made-up) example (so stop Googling the Sculpt 'n Burn!), the best TV products are the ones which boast multiple purposes. This is most efficiently communicated by using the letter 'n' with an apostrophe between the two functions as a title. I actually did purchase the Grip n' Flip directly from a TV ad a long time ago. The commercial sucked me in with so many amazing features and bonus offers that an attempt to resist dialing would have been futile. Check out what we received with this glorious package (and TWO of everything, I might add!):

• The Grip 'n Flip, which both grips and flips. I thought it would be great for flipping grilled sandwiches and quesadillas, only it isn't quite sturdy enough to support the weight of my hefty, stuffed-full-of-deliciousness entrees.
• The Scoop 'n Strain, which--you got it--both scoops and strains. This one is a great concept too: scoop soup and control the amount of broth vs. chunks you want. But the handle of the holey ladle is ridiculously flimsy, so you'd better hope you want mostly broth.
• And don't forget the 6 in 1 Utensil. This one um, stirs, and picks things up (if they aren't too heavy, it could probably handle a few leaves of lettuce)...and the other 4 uses I have yet to figure out. Dang, I wish I had paid better attention to the commercial.

So sometimes these amazing products hawked on late night television aren't as stupendous as they might seem. A shocking revelation, I'm sure. Yet, I am still mesmerized every now and again by one that seems too good to be true, and I just can't bring myself to accept that as the most likely reality.

I have been curious about the Ped Egg for a while. Now, let's get real here: if I ever tried to audition my feet for a "before" photo, my face would be thoroughly laughed in. My feet wouldn't initiate a gag reflex or anything, they just get a little dry, which makes my heels itch. The skin isn't as soft as a baby's you-know-what, either. My favorite part of any pedicure is the fleeting seconds when they scrub my feet with a file. That never lasts long enough for my preference.

I just didn't get the Ped Egg. It looks kind of like a cheese grater for your feet--which doesn't bother me because I could sense the satisfaction it would wreak on an itchy heel. But then they assert with emphasis that the Ped Egg is "so gentle, it won't burst this balloon." Well, that kind of blows it for me! If their special "micro-blades" can't burst a fragile balloon, then how in the heckarooney is it going to shave any tough, dead skin off of my callouses?

I guess my curiosity got the best of me one day, because I found myself perusing customer reviews of the one and only Ped Egg online. To my surprise, nearly every one of them gushed in utter disbelief that the product actually performed the job it claimed to do, and with better-than-expected results. The biggest complaint I read was that it didn't always catch all of the skin powder in the little egg portion.

Okay, so this contraption is now sold in every grocery and drugstore for less than 10 bucks. What's to lose? I made polite at the cash register while I tried not to look embarrassed that I was buying an infomercial merchandise, then stuffed it into the opaque bag to hurry home and give it a whirl.

By gum, it really does work. My not-very-nasty feet each produce about a bottlecap-full of nasty white powder each time I use it (and if you maintain it in the correct position, none of the powder leaks out). It feels really good too.

So if you have been secretly wondering about the Ped Egg as I was (maybe I'm the only nerd), go ahead and wager your Hamilton. But don't let anyone fool you into thinking it replaces a good, old-fashioned pedicure. I ain't getting a hot soak, aromatherapy, massage, and toenail polish with this doodad. But at least I can make my favorite part last as long as I want!

Stocking stuffers

The idea of a Christmas stocking bulging with valuable, yearned-for items is foreign to me. Throughout December, I see advertisements with an eye-catching starburst containing the words "Great Stocking Stuffer!" for products such as CDs, electric razors, iPods, Wii games, and diamond earrings. This leads me to believe that to much of the world, the determining characteristic of a gift suitable for stocking stuffage is its diminuitive size: if it's small enough to fit in the stocking, it's a stocking stuffer. And a stocking isn't really "stuffed" unless it is filled with multiple items, which by my calculations means that many people spend hundreds of dollars just filling stockings. I am sure that is more than my parents budgeted for each child's entire Christmas bounty.

I've always been of the opinion that every gift should receive the attention and appreciation it deserves. Our family always opened gifts one by one, taking turns, and it is one of my favorite Christmas memories. I loved making signs with each family member's name, and taping them to various seats around the family room before we could divvy up the gifts. Not one box was unwrapped until everyone was sitting in his or her assigned place beside a pile of presents. I enjoyed watching my family members open their gifts almost as much as opening my own. Anticipation is half the fun, after all, so why rush the process? And why put expensive, desirable gifts into a stocking when they could be carefully unwrapped for all to admire?

As a child, our stockings typically contained only three items:

1) An assortment of Christmas goodies. I specifically remember little chocolate-covered marshmallow Santas for some reason.

2) An orange. We were taught that the orange symbolized gratitude for our blessings, because during the Great Depression (or perhaps a war -?-) it was very difficult to acquire a fresh orange, especially during the winter, and so it would have been a very special treat at Christmas.

3) A scroll tied with ribbon. This piece of paper contained a poem, whose rhyming lines provided clues to the whereabouts of our "stocking gift," which was usually the most awesome, or at least too-large-to-wrap, surprise gift. My dad apparently stayed up late typing these poems after we went to bed on Christmas Eve, and reading them was sort of the culmination of our Christmas experience.

As a child, and even now to a lesser degree, I would experience a few moments of melancholy after all the gifts from under the tree were unwrapped, realizing that suddenly Christmas was over. But then I would quickly rejoice upon remembering that our stockings still hung over the fireplace. Not because they were filled with another slew of tiny, meaningless presents, but because there would be an exciting treasure hunt to find that last gift--possibly the one I've been asking for since Halloween!

My new little family tends to keep Holiday spending to a bare minimum. I have only actually stuffed our stockings twice now. Last year my motivation in doing so was mostly to provide the experience for our Japanese exchange student, since my daughter was too young to understand. Filling our stockings remains merely an afterthought as Christmas approaches.

The lack of fanfare surrounding our stockings has inadvertently started a family tradition of our own. I still include the traditionally orange. It comes out of the drawer in the fridge to hang in the toe overnight, then is returned home to the fridge following its moment of glory.

But I also wander around our house on Christmas Eve collecting appropriate items to stuff in our stockings. That's right: things we already own. I have an assortment of cheap little Christmas toys leftover from goodie bags I made for our employees' children one Christmas, so everyone gets a kazoo or a tiny yo-yo with a Santa sticker on it, or a nifty spinning top. Last year, all those dumb little toys went back into the bag with the others, so I was able to give Madelyn some of the same things in her stocking this year. I don't think she even noticed.

I also include some yummy treats. Last year Madelyn got a baggie full of goldfish crackers, and this year a package of yogurt-covered blueberries. She couldn't eat them though, since she'd already brushed her teeth, so back into the Costco box in the cupboard they went. I gave Gary one of the candy bars that he had bought for himself last week, and a package of Simpsons fruit snacks that have been sitting on a table in my office since the movie was released in July 2007, both of which also went directly back onto the candy shelf.

So currently, the stocking extravaganza is more for the expectation of tradition than practical gifts. One day, when we have more disposable income, I wouldn't mind upgrading our stocking experience from "what-do-we-have-lying-around" to providing a few useful or fun, but inexpensive, items that my family members would actually like. Maybe one day I'll even get creative and reintroduce the stocking poems in our family. But I don't think we'll ever be the family with a GPS or platinum bracelet overflowing from our stockings. I love wrapping presents way too much for that!

What are your fun Stocking traditions?