Holiday gifting

As the parent representative for Ella's preschool class, one of my recent tasks was to gather money from all of the parents to give to the two teachers at the class Hanukkah party next week.  The preschool board recommended that we ask each parent for $10 per teacher per child, so $20 per family (except of course for the parents of the twins in Ella's room who got socked twice).   This amount seemed very reasonable and all of the families gave their contribution readily.  With 12 children in the class, this would be a gift of $120 to each teacher.

At the same time, I was talking with a friend with whom I take a weekly semi-private pilates lesson (meaning just the two of us and our teacher) about what kind of holiday gift to give our teacher.  We agreed on a Christmas tree ornament and a gift certificate to a local restaurant for her and her husband.  Each of us agreed to put in $60, $10 for the ornament and $50 for the dinner.

That night, though, as I sat sorting out the various cash I'd collected over the day, I started to feel like there was a great imbalance.  I want to state clearly that I LOVE my pilates teacher.  I love her kind and sweet personality, I love that she makes me work-out until I want to cry, and I love that she has helped me fit back into my skinny jeans again.  She is wonderful with no caveats.   But I see her for one hour a week.  I also LOVE Ella's teachers.  They are exceptionally kind and talented women especially in the art of bringing out the best in a three-year old which is no small feat.  They listen to Ella as she tells them long elaborate stories, let her chase them on the playground, encourage her love of art and books and music, and just generally create a nurturing, loving, and stimulating environment for my child.  Eighteen hours a week.  And did I mention that their job also involves bathroom duty? 

So $120 to my pilates teacher and $120 to each teacher (but only $10 actually from me)?  It just didn't feel right. 

My solution was not all that elegant.  I returned (or will, really, if you are reading this, pilates buddy) some of the cash and got my pilates teacher a nice ornament and a $60 gift certificate for dinner instead of $100.  And I threw in an extra $20 to the envelope for each of Ella's teachers.  In an ideal world, all of these wonderful people would be getting rich from careers devoted to bringing out the best in my family.  These gifts will not do that.  But I think it feels more in balance than the original plan, and hopefully, regardless of the amount, will let all of these special people know that I really do appreciate what they do for me and my child.

The Me Hour

A few months ago, Josh and I were fretting about how little time we "get S**T done".   When the kids are awake, our days are a blur of playing with blocks, filling sippy cups with milk, and wiping tushies.  When they are asleep, we do the mad toy clean-up/laundry/dishes/make lunch dash.  So we decided to start getting up earlier than the kids to enjoy what we've termed The Me Hour. 

Our kids get up by 7:00 usually, so we set our alarms for 6 a.m. and get to enjoy an hour of quiet time to ourselves.  Josh, being just generally a much better person than I am in all regards, has strict rules for his Me Hour.  His rules are No email, No Internet, No Twitter, and No Work.  He does things like read, meditate, and write.  Sometimes he even goes running in the freezing cold.  Hmph.  My general activities are shaping up to be: read online celebrity gossip, do copious online shopping, edit photos of the kids, and frantically catch up on work.  So we have two different approaches to our Me Hour but we both love the found time. 

And here's the part that I find fascinating.  Before, when I dragged myself out of bed to the sound of an awakening child (usually Ella, and usually to the tune of "Mommy and Daddy!  I am a-wake now! I am A-WAKE now! I AM A-WAKE NOW!"), I felt so groggy and grumpy in my first daily interactions with them.  But now, after enjoying the Me Hour, I am so excited to greet them, have much more patience and energy for their needs, and yes, I just feel more awake and alert.  So less sleep means I feel more awake for the kids. I don't get it but I'm going with it.

See you tomorrow at 6 a.m.