The other day, in a foolish moment of recklessness, I asked two of my little granddaughters what they wanted Santa to bring them this year. Their responses gave me an immediate case of PTSD. One requested, “A rainbow scooter that lights up with blue wheels!” The other one asked for, “A Teal Guitar!” Let me be clear, lest you think, as I briefly did, that she meant, “a Steel Guitar” She indeed specifically meant the COLOR of the instrument. A TEAL guitar. I clarified this.

Fulfilling children’s far-fetched requests every year was always one of the most daunting tasks of motherhood. Especially challenging was procuring that particular year’s MOST COVETED TOY. The angst of trying to out-maneuver other mothers to get my hands on a Teddy Ruxpin, or a Tickle-Me Elmo was nothing short of brutal. Before I could blink, they outgrew those creatures and I was out beating-the-bushes for specific colors and sizes of North Face jackets and Ugg boots. And the electronics! May we never forget the Wii, the PlayStations and the Gameboys.  I stood in line for hours at GameStop just to get my hands on them and then served Macaroni and Cheese (the Blue Box) for a month to afford them.  

Zero regrets…

T’was all worth it…

Christmas morning was magical…

Nonetheless, this year I had the brilliant idea to go a different route. Rather than traipse all over the place purchasing gifts “From Santa,” I decided to make joyful memories with everyone I love instead.  I decided to use my precious and finite resources to create memorable and meaningful merriment in the form of  “experiences!

Friday night was the kick-off of my, “Experience Experiment.” We all dressed up and went to our local theatre to see, “A Christmas Carol.” Almost everyone loved it, except my 4 year old granddaughter who didn’t make it past Jacob Marley before loudly insisting on being rescued from the performance. She spent the remainder of the evening in the parking lot with her mother who texted for “ghost updates” in order to estimate how much longer they would be waiting…

“We are on The Ghost of Christmas Present, so just one more ghost to go!”

The next morning she informed us she, “never wanted to see that play again!” We assured her she needn’t ever, but we couldn’t resist mentioning that she missed the snow falling on the audience at the end, to which she responded, “It was fake snow!” (The ghosts were real, but the snow was fake.) She’s quite the Patron of the Arts.

Saturday afternoon we attended our first-ever and last-ever Christmas Cookie Baking Class.  I knew I was in trouble the minute I ushered my rambunctious crew through the door.  They were the ONLY children there. We were beyond conspicuous. I naively assumed a Christmas Cookie class would be for kids. I’m not bitter, yet I couldn’t help but wonder what kind’ve grown-ups require a pricey class on basic sugar cookie creation. That seems like Holiday 101 to me.

Now, I’m not saying my grandchildren were naughty, but they were children. Children at an ADULT EVENT. After they bickered over the fairest allotment of cookie-cutters, sprinkles and dough, they were mostly pleasant to work with. Insofar as far as children are ever pleasant to work with. (For more insight, see the Martha Stewart segment where she decorates sugar cookies with child actors…) Nonetheless, I couldn’t help but wistfully notice all the grown women around us, NOT arguing and whose brand new black suede Uggs were NOT covered with pounds of flour.

Oddly enough, our group finished before everyone else.  I suppose because all the adult students were actually devoted to painstakingly decorating their cookies with acute attention to detail, as opposed to spraying frosting and sprinkles on fresh baked cookies like Jackson Pollard on a sugar high.  As we sat at the “Recovery Table” waiting for the laggards, the children asked me how many cookies they could eat on-site.  When I said, “Two!” they responded,

“Our mommy said we could only have ONE EACH!”  

“Well, your mommy is not here. You can have two!”

I was a tad preoccupied and in no mood to negotiate.  I was busy scrolling through my phone. Would you believe that in the time it took Sur Le Table to box up our cookies, I found BOTH a Disco Scooter AND a Teal Guitar online? Just satisfying my curiousity.

I’m sure by now you take my point.

On the off-chance you’re getting all overly-inspired to emulate and execute my idea, I feel compelled to acknowledge the obvious – it’s tons easier to continue sloshing water for that old Patriarch-in-the-Red-Suit. Just buy the gifts! After all, the elves at Amazon have really changed the rules of engagement.

And next year, I think I’ll consider experiencing Sugar Cookie Class with my adult Lady-Friends. Clearly, I’m the one who could benefit from a little more Holiday 101.