It was an innocuous phrase from my mother that doomed my 5th annual gift of a mushroom-spotted potholder & dishtowel set to it’s gloomy fate - ”This is so nice, I’m going to have to save it for good,” she said with an awkward smile and a forced chuckle. I think I was about 9 years old when I first suspected that telling me my gift was ”for good” was my mother’s oh-so-polite way of saying, “Gee. Thanks for the thought, but this gift is a complete miss - total crap - and there’s no way I’m ever going to use it.”
My mother had (and still has, I believe) a special drawer in her bureau for all her ”for good” stuff. This drawer is like a little grave where unwanted potholder & dishtowel sets, cheap jewelry, and even cheaper perfume have all gone to rest for eternity. When I stumbled across the ”for good” drawer as a child, I remember feeling devastated - seeing, finally, that all my suspicions about the “for good” gift designation were confirmed. Looking at the contents of that drawer, it was obvious to me that there was never going to be an occasion good enough to merit the retrieval and use of those mushroom-spotted potholders & coordinating dishtowels.
Looking back on it now, I think finding that drawer full of abandoned gifts was a defining moment for me. From that point on, I vowed only to give gifts that my mom would actually want. I have to admit, this has proven to be much harder than I anticipated. Years of trying to select that special gift that will really WOW her has brought me, at best, about a 40% success rate. This past Christmas was a total failure as my recent credit card statement showed; the entire Amazon.com gift purchase was returned and the purchase credited back to my account. So much for that book and DVD I thought she might enjoy…
Why are moms so hard to buy gifts for? Darned if I know. One thing I do know is that now that I am a mom, I can already see the crap gifts in my future and, honestly, I don’t want ‘em. I don’t like the idea of more clutter that needs to be dusted. I hate kitschy stuff that reminds me of the gift shop at Cracker Barrel. But even worse, I loathe the idea of being revealed as the petty, fault-filled person that I really am in front of my kids.
What’s wrong with me? Why can’t I just be like those other gracious moms who proudly incorporate all their sweet kid-crap gifts into their lives? Would it really kill me to have a set of mushroom-spotted dishtowels on display in the kitchen?
It might. I know myself too well to think that I’d be happy integrating such crap into my decor, let alone my life.
So where does that leave me? Rather than try to change myself (which is next to impossible), I think I’ll just focus on educating the next generation. By providing them with some guiding principles of good gifting - sort of a “No Crap Guide to Gifting” I might be able to avoid the crap altogether. Or better yet, rather than overwhelming them with good gifting principles, I could just tell them what NOT to buy me. I could tell them to avoid things like:
Maybe if I can help them avoid crap gifts, I won’t have to have the painful conversation with them that my own mother never had with me? I don’t want to say to them, “Thank you for the gift. I feel it’s important to be upfront with you and tell you that if I can’t use your gift for anything or I find it’s just not right for me, I’m going to have to set it free -release it back into the wild for some other kid to discover and give to his or her mommy.” Because, while saying this may be honest, it’s brutally so. And, yet, hiding the truth from them as my mother tried to do with me, opens up it’s own brutal can of worms.
So, instead of lying to them or being brutally honest, I think I’ll say something like, “Don’t buy me anything. Save your money for college and use your words to tell me how much you appreciate me. Or, just do something nice like pick up your room without me asking you to do so. Spontaneous hugs also make great gifts. It may sound corny, but your love is the only gift I really want… But please don’t give me a crappy t-shirt that says that, okay?”
As I was chatting with a co-worker the other day, she mentioned that her 3-year old daughter’s daycare isn’t having an “Easter” party this year because a parent complained last year about Easter being too religious. So this year her daycare is celebrating “Bunny Day”.
Bunny Day? I’ ve been around for awhile now and I’ve never heard of anyone celebrating Bunny Day. Maybe Hugh Hefner…? But a classroom full of 3 & 4 year olds have no clue what’s going on. All they know is that they’re being given jelly beans and chocolate without having to listen or behave.
That being the case, why the knee-jerk reaction? Why suck all the joy and ease out of our traditional holiday naming schemes to potentially avoid offending a handful of people? Just because a holiday has religious traditions as part of it’s celebration doesn’t mean there aren’t plenty of non-sectarian traditions for everyone to enjoy. Why can’t calling it “Easter” be part of both traditions?
Here’s my idea: YOU celebrate your Easter holiday your way and leave ME to celebrate my Easter holiday my way and we can each call it whatever we want. I’m all for individual expression, but publicly, let’s agree to refer to it in whatever way the bulk of society finds recognizable, okay?
Because when you invite me and my family over for ”Bunny Dinner”, I get a little leery…
When Dick (aka Tech Support) registered Raw Drip for me he also created a Google Analytics account so I can see some basic web stats, mainly who’s visiting, how long they’re staying on my site, and what kinds of keywords they’re using to find me. Honestly, I don’t really use or understand most of the features. I just love to click on the colorful little map icon to see how many states and countries are reading me. It’s so cool.
But a recent review of the keyword searches some of you’ve used to find Raw Drip are, well, disturbing. With little more than a few bizarre keywords to go on, I’ve reached three conclusions about you.
1) You’re poop-obsessed
Searching for terms like “newborn poop explosive stinky watery”, “poo explosion” and “baby shit” can only point to someone who is poo-sessed. I’m a little sympathetic here, as I recall the days of new parenting - monitoring every bit of solid waste emerging from my newborn infant - analyzing its frequency, color, consistency, and odor.
These days, I continue to suffer from my own bit of fecal fixation with my days spent cleaning up both literal and metaphorical poop. Funny how life progresses, eh? You start out pooping in your pants, then you learn to poop in the potty, then you develop a potty mouth and learn to talk shit about people, then you start cleaning up other people’s poop, and finally, you end up back at square one - pooping in your pants again.
2) You’re into porn
Okay, so you’re searching for “raw penis”, “penis dripping”, and ”porn” clearly you’re looking for a little action - or some online urology expertise.
3) You’re a complete nut-job
And, then there are the few of you who defy explanation.
One thing I’ve learned through my exploration of keywords - my blog continues to be as meandering and unfocused as it’s always been. I’m not sure I’m too keen on changing that. I kind of like that fact that I don’t fall neatly into a category. Raw Drip - not really a meal, not really a dinner.
So, I guess rambling is my style. Even if it’s not, I think I’m going to continue to play topical hopscotch with you just for the fun of discovering how fascinating and weird you are. Thank you for being so entertaining.
Raw Drip is one woman's raw, wry, fresh, and cheeky take on parenting, relationships, life, and other important stuff. I started writing Raw Drip because my friends are scattered all over the place and as a working mother with two toddlers I have no time to talk to them on the phone, meet them for a cup of coffee - or bathe regularly. Instead, I sit my stinky solo self down at my computer and write about all the things I used to talk with them about - and then I share it all with you - my fan base, my readership, my loyal drips.
Some of you have asked about the site name, Raw Drip, what does it mean? The name was inspired by the freshly perked cup of coffee I was drinking when I decided to start writing. I guess people see the word "raw" and just assume that the name has something to do with porn. It doesn't. I also don't write about: raw meat storage, raw food dieting, photos of people in the raw, or an obscure Japanese band named Raw Drip.
So dudes, if you've inadvertently stumbled upon my site while surfing for porn, my apologies. Unfortunately for you, you've landed in a place that's all chick-chat, with occasional penis references thrown in just for fun. At Raw Drip, the truth is harsh. But if you're man enough to handle it, keep reading. If not, move it along...
There. Are we all clear now? No porn here.
Happy Reading!
Samantha
Big Drip, Mom, wife and training geek