Looking back, reflections on 2010

It's New Year's Eve.  And while I am not a big one for resolutions, or New Year's celebrations really in general (yup, I usually celebrate New York New Year's and go to bed by 11:00 p.m. CST), I do like to look back.


However, I am writing this before I leave town with the three boys (Brian has to work), I haven't packed the car, heck I haven't even brushed my teeth yet, so I don't have time to really reflect.


So instead, I'll do it blog style.


Here are some of the most read, commented on, most shared posts of 2010:

"You must be busy"

"Letting the family secret out" 

"Sometimes C-work is good enough"

The 500 Pound Declutter series

"The Grinch gets caught"

"BlogHer was complicated...or maybe I am just complicated."

"Traveling with kids"

"And like and idiot, I said 'Thank you.'"

(and it's follow up: "When is a bribe not a bribe?"

Did I miss any?


Thank you all for being part of our lives.  Whether you are friends, family, friends I have made through this blog, or friends I just don't know yet, thank you.  Thank you for reading.  For your support.  Your perspective.  For walking up and introducing yourself if you saw me out and about.  Thank you.


Here's to a great 2011.

500 Pound Declutter -- The Finale

Or not.


The process to declutter our house and lives has been quite a journey.  So I have gone back and forth on how to hit the goal.  I watched for awhile for a funny project.  For a, "Wow, I can't believe I didn't see that" corner of my home to emerge.


And then I really thought about what I have learned through the process of decluttering.  Cleaning out.  Organizing.


Above all, what I have learned is ridiculously simple.


Clutter happens.  It happened before and it will happen after.


And that's okay.  What isn't okay is not doing anything about it.


Sometimes there are great stories.  Sometimes, it helps to process it.  Do whatever what works for you.  For me, I wrote about it.  I made myself own up to the silliness of what it had become.  I laughed.  And I let go.


So that is my (unsolicited) advice to you.  Let go.  Of the judging.  Of the expectations.  Of the keeping up with the Jonseses.


And then stop letting go.  Do what you can in a way that works for you.  Hear that part?  For you.


Yes, clutter happens.  And it will happen again.  I am not going to lie.  As I write this, there are piles and projects to tackle.  Some spots in my house look outstanding.  And others need some TLC.


And if I have learned anything, it is that that is okay.


So with no further adieu, here it is, the last "official" declutter project.

No grand stories here.  Broken toys.  A year's worth of magazines.  Just stuff.  42 pounds of stuff.  Meaning I got rid of 532 pounds of clutter.

Just stuff.


Like all the rest of it was.


The end.  But not really.  It will continue.

And also not the end, because a couple of months ago, I was contacted by Woman's World magazine.  They wanted to do a story on my 500 Pound Declutter project.  So I spent time talking to them, sharing my story and they sent a photographer into my home for a few hours for take photos for the issue. 

So if you'd like to read more, watch for the January 31 issue of Woman's World, which will hit stands on January 20, 2011.

Happy decluttering.

We don't drink that much beer

Last Wednesday, I posted this photo and asked people if they had any idea what it was.  The majority of people guessed some kind of a beer stein.

Which, without any kind of a perspective, I could see.  But each of these holds about two gallons of liquid.  So, no, not beer steins.

They are ice luminarias made two at a time over a 2-3 week period each year, loaded up and taken to my parents' home for Christmas.







Have a Wordless Wednesday?  Link up and let your readers know they can stop by The Snyder 5 for more great wordless posts.

"Molly, it's Joan, call me about your bathrobes."

That was the phone call I received from a producer at WCCO-TV today.  I talk to people from the media all the time as a part of my day job, but that is the first time a call has ever started that way.

Joan is a producer I have worked with before and after their station had picked up on the robe theft story, she was calling to see if I'd be willing to do an interview.

An hour later they were sitting with me in my parents' living room.  For those of you who aren't in the market or didn't catch it (and want to), here is the story.

Use it or lose it. Or: How to blow your medical flexible spending

You think I'd have learned my lesson on how to plan (or not plan) for my medical flexible spending after several years of doing the end of the year scramble. 

Image credit

But somehow I found myself at the end of yet another year where I have nearly $600 still tied up in flexible spending money.  I knew a lot of the obvious over-the-counter things I could use the money on: Tylenol, Band-Aids, decongestants, etc.  But let's be honest, I have been in this situation before and, well, just yesterday morning, found myself tossing out dozens of expired OTC medications from the last time I over-stocked.

After doing a bit more research, I was amazed by all of the things you can spend your flexible medical dollars on (at least during the remaining days of 2010, getting reimbursed for OTC meds will get a lot more challenging in 2011).  Here are just a sampling of the ones I didn't know about:

1. A netipot
Okay, so they make me sneeze, but I know most people who use them swear by them.

2. Prenatal vitamins
While you can't do most vitamins, prenatals are the exception.  So if you are a woman of childbearing age, you might want to stock up.

3. Going on a cruise?  Find yourself getting motion sick?  How about some ginger gum?

4. Lotions with aloe in them
This one floored me.  Of all of the aloe lotion I have bought over the years.

5. Hand sanitizer

6. Ovulation prediction kits
knew about pregnancy tests but not about the prediction kits.

7. Pill cutters and crushers

8. Bedwetting alarms
Strangely enough, I wrote about this product exactly one year ago.  But if you have a child who is having difficulty staying dry at night, I cannot recommend this enough.  And I recommend it even more knowing you can be reimbursed now.

9. Thermometers and thermometer covers

10. Another shocker?  I always thought you couldn't submit for reimbursement of sunscreen.  But, if it's sunscreen with a SPF of 30 or higher, you can.  You can also be reimbursed for sunburn relief creams and gels you use if you get sunburned.

11. Smoking cessation kits and medications.

12. Vaporizers and humidifiers and refills for them.

13. Kits for just about anything that bites.  Other than other kids at daycare.  First aid, snake, bug and bee sting kits are all covered.

14. Lice kits
Okay, sadly, after the year I have had, this one was not a surprise.  But I do recommend keeping one on hand because the last thing you want to do is run to the store to get a kit when your kid comes home scratching.

15. Of course, I'd be remiss if I didn't suggest that you consider getting a last minute appointment with your local eye doctor. ;)

So I quickly threw together a collection of some of these as well as others creative (yet legal) ways to spend your 2010 medical flexible spending dollars.


A host of unrelated disclaimers: Clearly I am not a politician, lawyer, HR administrator or anything official like that.  So if you want the official scoop on what you can or cannot submit for flexible spending as of January 1, 2011, here is a Q/A from the IRS.  And absolutely none of this should be taken as medical advice.  This post contains affiliate links.  So shop if you like and then I can buy more Tylenol. 

Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus

Much has been said, written, debated and, well, any other term you want to use, about the approach to Santa Claus.  And Christmas in general, really.

First there is the Santa Claus question.  Is he the first great lie we tell our children?  Is he a horrible myth that builds things up only to, inevitably, send them crashing down? Is he a promise that is just made to be broken?  Or is "he" a sweet story.  An idea.  Something to believe in?

And then there is the larger question of Christmas.  The whole secular and sacred line.  A line that gets crossed all of the time.  As in, on just about every commercial that airs during the holiday season.

But after 36 Christmases, here is what I do know.  For me, at least.  For our family.

There is a Santa Claus.  Not a guy.  Or a girl.  Or a person at all.  Santa is an idea.  A philosophy.

My kids have not yet flat out asked, "Is Santa Claus real?"

Probably because they don't have to.

Because we have never really said that he is.  In our family we have always simply said that we believe in the idea of Santa.

And that as long as you believe in the idea, "Santa" will come.  Yes, even the adults draw names and all of us have a visit from Santa Christmas Eve.

We believe in the idea that there are people out there who love and give without expecting much in return.  Maybe some cookies and milk is all.

We believe that there are both people we know and people we don't, who care enough and who are good enough to give without expecting anything in return.

No that isn't really a fat man in a red suit who has flying reindeer.  Because, clearly, that is crazy talk.

But there are people who do things from time to time just to see someone else smile.  

And anyone who lives their life like that has a little bit of Santa Claus in them.

Afterall, when I was a kid, Santa stayed up all hours of the night one year painfully building Barbie mobile homes for my cousins and me.  Santa may have even used some very un-Santa-like language that night.  My aunt's face in this photo says it all.

And I am pretty sure we never thought to tell our moms and grandmother "thank you" until the mobile homes were long gone.

But thank you, Santa.  All of you who have some Santa in you.

Yes, I believe in the idea of Santa.


That said, if someone wanted to do a mash up of the whole sacred, secular, crossing the line, is Santa real thing and get me one of those Lexus cars with the giant bow on the top.  You know, just because they wanted to give selflessly...I promise I'd yell, "THANK YOU SANTA!" Because that would be totally selfless.


P.S.  And yes, the "idea of Santa" did give Noah Sunny D for Christmas.  What can I say, the kid asked for it.

P.P.S. And while there are no photos of our entire family wearing matching jammies, a concept that totally creeps me out (as mentioned several times on Facebook), the boys did rock their day in matched sets.

The Grinch gets caught

So it turns out that we weren't the only family who had a grinch try to actually steal their Christmas.


We got a call a day ago from the police that they had caught the man who had been stealing boxes from the front porches of St. Paul homes.  And while he had taken four boxes from my parents' front porch, they had only recovered the goods from one.

It was returned to us, reeking of smoke and, somehow already stained, yesterday.

The police officer explained that he didn't say what he had done with the goods, but in all liklihood, the man, Pedro Flores, had taken them to a bar and sold them.

Which is all fine and good.  Well not really, it still sucks.  But for those of you who read the story earlier in the week, you might recall that I didn't say what was in the boxes.  I just said that they were very personal items that would mean nothing to anyone else.

Because they were bathrobes.  Really nice, heavy, personalized bathrobes.  For all 12 of us, ranging from size 3T to adult sizes.

So the thought of this guy hitting skeezy bars offering personalized bathrobes for sale is alternately horrifying and hilarious.

Hey baby.  You look like a Molly, want a bathrobe?

Dude, Brian?  Can I call you Brian?  I can hook you up with a bathrobe.

I mean seriously.

And then the story hit the news.  And before we all went to bed last night, we pulled up the video from KSTP.

It's worth watching the video if you have a minute.  Because our entire family erupted in hysterics over the line, "...Found a shopping lift of items from Wii games to expensive bathrobes..."

Yup, that was us.  We are the expensive bathrobe people.

Well some of us are.

While the rest of you are dealing with family drama of your own over the holidays, we have new drama here.  We are now the (expensive bathrobe) haves...

And the (expensive bathrobe) havenots...

And dude, if you bought a bathrobe in the bar, a) that is weird and b) give it back.

Merry Christmas.

Stacked to perfection

Yet another reason that Brian is one cool guy.
Big question is, have any of you been reading here long enough to know what these are?  (And no fair guessing if you are related to me...)

Ho Ho Humbug

Sometimes the crappiness of people just gets to you.  And Monday was one of those days.

I was sitting at my desk, reading about stories of holiday hope and generosity.  Amazing, real, genuine stories.  I was feeling warm and fuzzy and good.  Really good.  I might have even been humming the "Welcome Christmas" song from the end of "The Grinch Who Stole Christmas."  Not kidding.

And then my phone rang.  It was my dad.  There was no beating around the bush. 


Evidently somewhere in our local Whoville, there was a Grinch.  Or a ring of grinches.  I don't know if they have small hearts or small shoes or, perhaps just greedy minds and a lack of a soul. 


But regardless what is small -- their hearts, shoes, minds or souls -- they are following around UPS and USPS trucks to see where they drop Christmas boxes.  And when no one immediately comes to the door, why they step right in as Santa's elves and pick up the packages. 

Of course they are just doing so to be helpful.


Just like the Grinch who Cindy Lou Who found shoving a tree up the chimney.  He wasn't stealing it.  He was fixing it, right?


So, I am sure the local Grinches didn't mean to steal the five giant boxes full of Christmas presents off my parents' front porch yesterday. 

Oh no, they must have known that there was something "defective" with these presents.  They were simply hauling them back to the North Pole to fix them, right?


Or perhaps, let's be real, they had great hope that they could rip them open and resell them or use them themselves.  Only to find out that they were incredibly personal gifts for a family of 12 that no one else would possibly have a use for.


So never mind.  Most likely, when realizing they were "useless" to them, they just ran them to the top of Mount Crumpit and simply just dumped them.


Dear Grinches.  You should be ashamed.

I know you aren't.  But I am.  For you.  For what you are doing.  And what it means.  And what it says about Christmas and our society.

Because that?  That is exactly what Christmas is not about.  No, Christmas isn't about boxes or presents or bows.  I know that.  Always have.


But you can't take Christmas away just because you took our things.  Sure that is easy for me to say, I suppose, since I hadn't bought those presents. 

But the whole thing made me sick to my stomach all the same.  And I found myself angry and stewing and bitter.  I was filled, quite frankly, with anger.  For these people I didn't know.  Whose story I don't know.

And as much as I would love to say that we all grabbed hands and swayed and sang "Welcome Christmas," that didn't happen.

Until I reminded myself that I can do better.  I can be bigger.  I can.  And I will.

I am not saying I have any idea who did this.  Or why.  Or what their circumstances were... or weren't.  I don't.

But as my parents always have said, "Life can make you bitter or life can make you better."

Don't get me wrong.  This sucks.  I hate that it happened.  But, personally speaking, I am determined to see some good come from it.  No matter how small.

Because really, you Grinches, I don't know what your story was.  But it makes me feel a little bit better, and a bit less bitter, to think that there is something I can do about it.

Maybe, in my own small way, I can.  I can reach out and help one person.  At least.  Right?

And so I went online and asked friends for who they recommended as resources for at-risk children.  No, I don't think this was done by children.  But that's where we all start, isn't it?

The response in just 10 minutes was amazing.  Here are just some of the resources people passionately recommended:

Big Brothers Big Sisters

Bolder Options

Boys and Girls Club

Children's Defense Fund 

Free Arts Minnesota

Greater Minneapolis Crisis Nursery

Joe Torre Safe at Home Foundation

Lutheran Social Services of Minnesota

Prevent Child Abuse

St. Joseph's Home for Children

Tasks Unlimited

Tree House

And so, in the new year, I am promising myself that I will do my research and reach out and get involved.  I will let go of bitter in an effort to do better. 

______________________________________________________________________________


And yes, this did happen. When reported to the police they said it is a very real problem.  So watch your doors and watch out for your neighbors doors too.  You can call UPS and USPS and make special arrangements to have your packages delivered to a side or back door.  Or even held at the post office.

The NaOnka Question

Last night was the finale of the 7 millionth season of "Survivor."  Okay, not quite, but close.  For those of you who watched this season, you will know all about the "villain" this time around.  For those of you who didn't, her name was NaOnka.  And she was brutal.

 Photo credit.

She lied, cheated, shoved, fought, scratched, kicked, and swore her way along.  And then, almost inexplicably, she quit.  Walked away from the show.

Her reputation forever changed.

Last night was the finale and the reunion show and she was, of course, asked about her behavior, her quitting, and the fact that parents of children at schools where she works calling for her to be fired.  She made a comment that went something along the lines of:

You all have to realize, we are playing a reality TV game here.  And you have no idea how you will play until you are in it.

And I get that.  People do crazy things.  Especially when they are hungry, cold, tired and trying to nab a million dollars.

But it got me thinking about the concept of living out in public, like I, to some extent do here.

People often ask me what the hardest thing is about having a blog read by strangers (and friends and family and coworkers).  And I always respond that the thing I always, always, always keep front of mind is the "I'd like to keep my job" clause.

Sure, I have a lot of strong opinions.  I share some of them here.  I share some of them in person.  And some I keep to myself.

Because I believe that we don't always have to fight.  Go all the way.  Take no prisoners. 

Because, for me the limit isn't just about keeping my job and friends and family (although that is an easy way to think about it), but about decency.  And everyone has a different definition of what that means for them

It's about being able to stand up and say that I don't just stand against things.  That I stand for something.  

So no, I will never be the most controversial person.  But I hope I can always be a person that I feel proud of.

Oh yeah, and one that keeps her job.

Expecting less

For the most part I am a glass half full kind of a girl.  At least I think I am.


But then something happens that makes you stop and look and ask yourself what you are doing.


Recently, Caleb offered to go get Eli dressed.  I bit my tongue.  Stopped myself from saying, "Hell to the no.  That is going to be a debacle."  And just let it happen.  It was a weekend, we weren't going anywhere, and so I knew I could deal with the results.


I expected horrible.  I expected to laugh and then sigh and then start over wrestling with a 2-year-old who was wearing some incredibly bad concoction.


This is what I got.

My boy.  The one who would love nothing more than to dress himself in mismatched track pants and jerseys every day took his brother upstairs and put him in a button down shirt and pants that actually matched.  And dress shoes.  That Eli had never been willing to wear before.

Then he did the same for himself.

Okay, so the buttons weren't quite right, but still.

It got me thinking about expectations.

And what we put on others.  And ourselves.

I admit it, I fully expected this to be kind of a mess.  To create more work.  To have a result that made me laugh but then made me march them back upstairs to "fix it."

Sometimes I just need to stop resisting the urge to fix.  Anticipating what I think people, whether they are my kids or not, will or won't do.

Because when I let go, the results can be outstanding.

Okay, the results can be horrible, too.  But maybe it's worth the risk.

Taking Mom to cocktail hour

This morning was Noah's "Personal Narrative" day at school.  I love these publishing parties, they crack me up.  And this one didn't disappoint.

His teacher kicked it off by talking about the process. She explained that the kids needed to accurately, realistically retell a story from their lives joking that they had a few James Frey moments where they tried to make their lives a bit more interesting than reality.


Noah's group featured personal narratives about spending a summer at foreign language camp, having dental surgery, rescuing a cat from a shelter, and exploring Canada.


And Noah?  His book was called "Crazy Cancun."


And yes, we are so in trouble with this boy.

Actually it was a very accurate retelling of our trip to Cancun last spring.  Perhaps too accurate.


But my favorite part?  When Noah read this:

And then my mom said, 'Quick Noah, shut off the TV, we have to hurry if we want to make it down to cocktail hour!'

Causing me to look like this.

Yes, we are overachievers like that.  Cram in some Spanish-language television before we hit the bar with our kids.  Classy.


He ended it with a heartfelt dedication to his dad, who he said he loves and doesn't get to spend enough time with because he is hardly ever home.

No, not that he is working, no he didn't say that.  Just hardly ever home.  I could see the thoughts flying through the other parents' heads.  "He is at happy hour."


Pretty sure there we just dropped down a few notches on the "must schedule playdates with" list today.



P.S. Did I mention that I have another $100 to give away from BlogHer?   Here's the entry page.

"What do you really mean?"

There are few things in life that make me more crazy that the unnecessary use of quotation marks.

Worse?  Quote overkill.

"Free"
Nope, not really free, we'll charge you $5.


"Beer"
Nope, not beer either.


"Fridays"
Don't even try to come on Friday.  Try Tuesday instead.



P.S. And yes, there, of course, are many things that drive me crazier than this.  But in the scheme of silly stupid stuff that drives me nuts, this is tops.  And thanks to Brian, who knows how much it drives me crazy, for taking the photo.

Who is your target market?

Sometimes marketers need to stop and think.


Who is our target market?  What will appeal to them?  And how will we accomplish that?


During the holiday season, I have one tip.  If you are a women's clothing or beauty-related retailer, you should really stop and think before you call up holiday themes.  Merry?  Cool.  Joy?  Lovely.


But might I suggest that retailers avoid this one.

I love that if you read this one the right way, it reads:

Ho

Grab it. Get it. Gift it.

Get ready to party!

Because nothing keeps me out of a store like a bunch of "Ho's" that are ready to party in the window.