IT'S MY LIFE: THE GHOSTS OF CHRISTMAS PAST

I was perusing some old Christmas photos and wanted to share this handy holiday tip.  If you had a flocked Christmas tree back in 1972, pull it out of storage, because flocked trees are in style again. 



Too bad mom didn't keep hers. Too bad about the turquoise vinyl couch too. That probably costs an arm and a leg at Ikea now. I can't say that I remember this Christmas, but I do remember those toys. I'm pretty sure mom does still have some of those.

Look! It's Rudolph me and my sister circa 1976.  As you can see, the flocked tree has already gone out of fashion. I'm pretty sure the Rudolph get-up had something to do with a school performance.  So why am I still sporting my red nose and antlers at bedtime on Christmas Eve?  Like I am getting ready to apply for a job on Santa's delivery team.

 

 

   Speaking of Santa, this one is kind of creepy. I don't like that sideways glance he's wearing.  My sister doesn't look all that happy with him either.  Nevertheless, I feel it's important to pass these holiday traditions on to my children.

Okay, I didn't pass on the flocked tree tradition.  But two out of three isn't bad.  Happy December!

IT'S MY LIFE: FRUGAL HALLOWEEN COSTUMES OF THE OLDEN DAYS

Back when I was a kid, we made all of our Halloween costumes out of cardboard, tinfoil and magic markers.  These days, kids just walk into the local Target and buy a costume.  There's no imagination involved.  Not like the year my mom dressed me and my sister as little angels.  That took a lot of imagination.  Or was it wishful thinking?

Don't go telling me you can't make a cool costume out of a refrigerator box.  I was R2-D2 back in 1978 and I don't think we spent one cent on my cardboard droid replica.  I do remember my mom spending hours with a magic marker and a ruler, recreating the R2-D2 look for me.  The costume was very realistic.  R2-D2 can't sit down, and neither could I.

I'll never forget the year we were flowers for Halloween.  I bet my brother would like to forget he was ever a flower for Halloween.  A flower in a brown polyester suit.  My brother might disagree, but the flower costume was one of mom's most brilliant Halloween creations.  Quick. Cheap. Easy.  We got more compliments that Halloween than we did any year before or since. 

At every house we went to, the person answering the door would go on and on about how cute we were.   I think a few people even took pictures of us. Then they would summon every other member of the household who wasn't out trick-or-treating to come and see the adorable flowers on the front porch. Yeah, we raked in the candy that year.

I'm going to have a pretty busy October.  I wonder how my boys would feel about being flowers for Halloween this year? 

IT'S MY LIFE: THE TWELVE STEP PROGRAM FOR TODDLERS

If you're one of my seven blog readers, you know I'm planning to share some stories about myself from times past.  Stories to help my children get to know their mother a little bit better.

Talk about family secrets!

Yes, it's true. Even though I lecture my children daily about the hazards of alcohol not eating their vegetables, I did not eat my vegetables as a child. I am such a hypocrite!

Oh, you thought perhaps I would have something to say about what it is I'm drinking?

Well, I'm hoping mom is going to clear that up for me.  See, when she organized the old family photos, she also labeled them.  This one is titled Danelle Drinking Champagne.  Not, Danelle Drinking "Champagne"  with appropriately placed quotation marks to suggest that it's not really champagne in my glass. 

Was it some sort of bribe? To get me to eat my vegetables? And if so, did it work? Should I add it to my list of useful parenting techniques?

No. I'm sure when mom said champagne, she meant "champagne", by which she meant grape juice. I'm sure she'll be leaving me a comment any minute now to clear things up. 

Remember that cigarette smoking baby?  People got pretty worked up about that.  I'm not trying to cause any trouble for the folks, but I really need to know what was in that glass so I can put the past behind me and move on with my life.

Or at least decide whether or not to include a chapter on controversial bribery techniques in the parenting book I'm writing.

IT'S MY LIFE

I believe it was the lyricist Jon Bon Jovi who said, "It's my life. And it's now or never. I ain't gonna live forever."  Which is why I've decided to write down a few things about myself.  It's for my kids, really.

Here's the thing . . . G is usually the one who puts the kids to bed.  Sometimes, the boys will ask him to tell (rather than read) them a bedtime story.  He's shared all kinds of funny stories with them from his childhood.  Some of these stories have become the stuff of legend.  Tales like "Stew in the Boot," and the aptly named, "Legend of the Monkey Shirt."

Like I said, I'm mostly doing this for my kids, so they can learn a few things about their mother. Assuming they are interested. That's the thing about writing your personal history.  You have to write it while you're alive, but no one wants to read it until you're dead.

You're welcome to read along.  I hope you'll be entertained.  I can almost guarantee that you'll see some embarrassing photos from the 70's and 80's, which is when we'll talk more about Jon Bon Jovi. Maybe at some point I'll even share the stories of "Stew in the Boot," and the "Legend of the Monkey Shirt."

Thanks to my mom, there will be photos to go along with almost every story.  Like that photo of me as a tiny baby, back in 1971, with my mother, grandmother and great-grandmother.  Mom spent hours years converting old slides and photos into digital format.  So, I'll be able to share photos of my 7th grade mullet and that time I won a contest to see who could stuff the most marshmallows in their mouth.

I'm not going to commit to a regular schedule on this.  I'll just peruse the old family photos from time to time, and when one of them inspires me to share, I will.  Hopefully, over time, I'll create a collection of stories that my kids will enjoy reading someday.  Who knows, maybe you'll even be inspired to write your own personal history.  Your children, and Jon Bon Jovi, will thank you.