Archive for December, 2011

Christmas

The kids got way too much stuff – enough to make me feel that this was “wrong”.  But I’m not sure what can be done to change it, as the vast majority wasn’t from us…… and I was mindful of a conversation with a friend about a relative trying to stop her from giving Christmas gifts to their kids….. that trying to stop other people from having a “gift-giving” relationship with your kids is perhaps not generous on your side…..  that gift giving is about the giver not the receiver.
But in the meantime I wonder what message my kids are taking away from such a frenzy.  My mum (bless her) realised what was going on and held back a number of things she’d bought…… and also the night before I decided not to give the books I’d bought – as they were great books and I didn’t want their impact to get lost in the chaos of the day.
Do you think it would be wrong to ask people to just give *one* thing?  This is the stupidity of people having money, and loads of cheap Chinese goods.  For example I think one kindly-intentioned relative gave the kids at least 10 items each (admittedly some were small – eg, pencils).
Over the past several days it’s been my job to make sense of this mountain of “stuff”….. and find a home for it amongst the rest.   The upshot was on 27 December I freecycled a box of kids toys/games/puzzles.  I didn’t think anyone would want them at this time of year.  But the recipient then contacted me to say thanks, her kids were really enjoying them.  It made me wonder…..  next year I’m going to freecycle stuff *before* Christmas day.
But of course too much is never enough.  We had to go to the shops yesterday and J had $20 of Christmas money burning a hole in his pocket and “wanted to buy a toy”.  My distress at this announcement contorted my face.  It required considerable self-talk to allow me to take him to the shops with any semblance of equanimity.
The other thing that happened of course was that so much of this stuff came in packaging.  We have filled our recycling bin with crushed cardboard boxes.  We have houseguests arriving today, and I am so ashamed of all the packaging, I’m trying to hide it under other recycled goods, and not tell them that in fact the bin truck came on Boxing Day, and this is just 3 days worth of “recycling”.  Gee, our environmental credentials are so solid.

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application and interview

Dear Reader, if you are still out there, I can only applaud your tenacity.  But, you may be in luck, as this blog is potentially about to see an increase in postings…. as I am about to become a student.   So of course posting here is likely to become a favourite way to postpone working on any assignments.  On Tuesday, I am attending an interview to undertake a Masters in Arts – Philosophical Studies.  To complete my wafting persona.  I flirted with an MBA, but seriously, that was never going to be completed.  Anyone who has read my musings on education will realise – internal motivation is everything.

I’m slightly weirded out by the “interview” – I mean what could they possibly ask me?  Am I meant to “dress up” to impress them??   Also, I realised the other night, that in my application frenzy I forgot to update the cv I did for the purposes of the MBA – wherein I state that my goal is to update and upgrade my managerial qualifications with a view to blah blah.  That actually made me giggle at 4am.  I wonder if they will ask me about that?  And also (in my frenzy) my application letter was charmingly old-fashioned, in that it was actually HAND WRITTEN, because I am unable to achieve a functioning printer.  HAHAHA.  In my covering note, I almost made some apologetic remark about the fact that everything was handwritten and that I *would* be able to access a typewriter at some future point for the purposes of an assignment…… but then I felt that was too self-deprecating and I should be unashamed in my use of the ball point pen.   (Plus, I don’t want to get their hopes up.)

It reminds me of my Dad’s various assignments – written in long hand – that he had kept from the various degrees that he never completed;  and like the undutiful daughter that I am, I threw them all into the bin.  God I miss my Dad so much.  He would be appalled that I was thinking of going to university:  ”Why are you going *there*?”  An unanswerable question.  Let’s hope they don’t ask that.

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