My 6 month-old will not sleep without being swaddled (he freakin’ loves it).  But he’s now outgrown the large Kiddapotomous velcro swaddle bags.  Any ideas for products for larger or older babies who still need to be swaddled?  Thanks. – Caren

So guess who fell off the Tito’s vodka wagon?

Oh yes, just a couple days on the cheap stuff and my husband is already back to drinking his glitzy Grey Goose. Some people simply have no recession willpower.

What’s that Rick? Oh, he wants me to tell you that he bought it on sale in Jersey.

It still cost more than Tito’s. I can promise you.

Well, no matter because I already have another genius way we can save just bundles.

Like some of you, we still have gifts to buy. I was kind of stressing over the whole thing until I saw this sign in the West Village.

Yes, That’s Benny’s Burritos! Now it just seems so obvious. Buy all your loved ones a Benny’s Burritos gift certificate for Christmas and Hanukkah!  Nothing rings in the holidays like a Chicken Chipotle burrito.

And if you’re looking for free activities… Well, Santa is totally free (you know, if you don’t count the cab ride there and the overpriced hot chocolate afterwards).

Summer hesitantly put in her x-mas order…

But Dylan wasn’t getting anywhere near that jolly, obviously untrustworthy guy from up North…

“Dylan, don’t you want to tell Santa what you want for Christmas,” I asked.

“No. Daddy is telling him what I want,” she responded.

Apparently, she’s got the gift thing covered. That girl sure knows how to delegate.

After visiting with Santa, Summer tried to convince her daddy that he should buy her this little stuffed deer.

The cost for this mini deer at ABC Home & Carpet?

$65.

Completely true.

If Summer wants that dumb deer, she better go back and have a little chat with Santa. Because her ‘rents are too busy blowing their money on overpriced vodka.

P.S. Happy Hanukkah to everyone.

We pretty much celebrate every holiday around here. Well, not Arbor Day because that holiday is pure evil, my friends. But definitely all the rest.

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This holiday season is truly about gratitude for all our precious gifts and the strength to face our challenges. Contributing mama Diane LeBleu shares her challenge in an honest, beautiful piece called, “Merry Christmas! I Have Breast Cancer!” Click here to read more.

Jodie and Tammy won The Children’s Place giftcards. Congrats ladies! Send your mailing address to Kelcey@mamabirddiaries.com and I’ll send these giftcards along.

By Contributing Mama Diane LeBleu

This was going to be the year I finally broke down and wrote the holiday newsletter. I have been making fun of family and friends on their efforts in this area for years now – It was time to put up or shut up. It’s like voting – you shouldn’t complain about a candidate if you won’t even bother to vote.

Plus, as an aspiring writer, I can use all the practice a captive audience will afford. I even sponsored a workshop dedicated to writing this annual tome as part of my ‘Writing Mamas Salon of Austin’ monthly gatherings at our local wine bar. However, in my inexperience in producing these letters of good will and cheer – what is the etiquette about communicating my breast cancer diagnosis?

I just found the news I had been dreading and almost expecting.  My twin sister lived through a lumpectomy, chemotherapy, and radiation at the young age of 33 almost seven years ago; my aunt died two years ago from breast cancer. This was not exactly a surprise but still not how I was expecting to be spending my new year – in the hospital, undergoing a bilateral mastectomy with reconstruction followed, perhaps, by chemo.

How does one communicate all this grim news in a Christmas card – usually so full of boasts and brags about how wonderful one’s life is and how brilliant one’s offspring have been demonstrating with their academic and athletic achievements throughout the year?

I am strong in faith and rich in friends and family who are willing and able to do anything possible to help me and my family through this time. I have prayers going out on my behalf literally around the world. I know I will get through this – I just do. My biggest fear? What keeps me up at night? Not will I die – we are all the walking dead.  But I know where I’m headed – it is asking for help and letting people help me. I’m not good at either one.

I’m one of these women – I think there are a few of us out here – who thinks I can do anything without help. I somehow manage with my super-duper efficient problem solving and time management skills to squeeze 25 hours out of every day and never miss a beat. Within 4 weeks, however, I’ll be flat on my back, tits up and will be forced to accept the offers from help I normally dismiss with an “Oh, thanks, I really appreciate it, but we’ll be fine.”

Part of me wants to wait another year on the newsletter – let it be a great announcement in a red and green and pink banner about my triumphant emergence from a grim trial of breast cancer and all it’s terrible repercussions but a bigger part of me (the needy part) wants to share my news with my extended network of friends and family across the country. I can use all the prayers and stories of encouragement I can get right now.

Despite my steely exterior and quick jokes about wearing my twin’s wig (finally, something you CAN actually wear twice!), I am in a constant flux of dread and denial, peace and passion for all the blessings in my life. The waiting is the worst – I know once January rolls around and I am finally on the path of treatment and recovery, I’ll have a brand new set of emotions and concerns.

In truth, I love to receive the holiday cards from loved ones I have not heard from since the last round of annual newsletters. It helps me to feel connected and engaged with the families I love but am separated from by many miles and time zones. I relish in the photos of children that grow so quickly and events – some mundane and some fantastic – that make up each of our lives.

I would hope to hear all the news from these folks – the good and the bad (nobody’s life could be all that great, right? Right?), otherwise, what is the point of sharing? It becomes family propaganda as opposed to friends in fellowship, and how can you serve and comfort and pray for those whose lives are perfect and free from peril? There is an Arabian proverb that states: A friend is one to whom one can pour out all the contents of one’s heart, chaff and grain together, knowing that the gentlest of hands will take and sift it, keeping what is worth keeping, and, with the breath of kindness, blow the rest away. I like the idea of that – and for those not on Facebook, the Christmas letter is the only way to stay in touch throughout the year.

So this year I will send out my first newsletter. I will write about the highs (like my recent trip to Budapest) and the very big low (my diagnosis of breast cancer). And I plan to close the letter like this:

“I don’t know exactly what 2009 has in store for us but I will take comfort in what Paul wrote to the Romans in Romans 8:28: And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.

I hope that by the time I sit down to write the 2nd annual installment of ‘The LeBleu Review’, I will have a little more clarity of what the purpose of my experience with this disease is. Until then, best wishes to your family for a wonderful Christmas and blessed New Year.”

Diane LeBleu is the mother of 4 children (Danielle, Travis, Sabrina and Caroline) and lives in Austin, Texas. She writes at The Writing Mamas Salon of Austin and Divine Caroline.

I really dig certain Christmas traditions.

Like as a kid, I can still remember taking the Metro North train into the city with my mom and sister to see the Radio City Christmas Spectacular.

Because in a life that could be somewhat unpredictable, there was always something very comforting about that ornate, old familiar music hall and those reliable, power-kicking Rockettes.

So I really wanted to take my 4 year-old this year. I just knew she would be dazzled by the entire experience.

“Hey Dylan, do you want to go see a show with Santa Claus?” I asked. My voice emanating holiday glee.

“No,” she responded, her voice much less gleeful.

“Oh. Well, there will be dancers too! And they all dance in this really straight line and kick their legs so high, you won’t believe it. Doesn’t that sound so cool? You love dancing. Do you want to go?”

“No.”

“But remember last year, you loved that show with Elmo and everyone else from Sesame Street.”

“I’ll go to a show with Elmo.”

“But Dylan, this show doesn’t have Elmo but it’s going to be just as great. Umm…. I guess I could just take your sister instead.”

“Yeah, take Summer.”

What?! Oh crap. That totally backfired.

Ok. Must think of new strategy to force my kid to go to the Radio City Christmas Spectacular so she can be DAZZLED.

A couple days later, I hesitantly tell Dylan I’m picking her up early at school so we can run some errands together. She is thrilled that we are taking the subway and doesn’t inquire further.

As we arrive at Radio City Music Hall, surrounded by mobs of tourists, she finally asks, “Where are we?”

“Oh, honey, we are just running some errands. Mommy needs to check this out real quick. Here, have a $10 bag of cotton candy. Do you want a bucket of popcorn too?”

That shut Miss Curious up in a hurry.

So we sit down.

And the lights dim and the orchestra starts playing.

And she is mesmerized.

Impressive dance numbers starring the Rockettes. A flying Santa. Fake snow falling from the majestic theater ceiling. Even 3D effects. Man, they really souped up this show.

And the ending – Oh my gosh. The ending! Oh wait. We missed that. Dylan got tired and wanted to check out this new car on display in the lobby.

And then she said to me,

“Mom, this car smells a lot better than our car.”

Oh, honey, that’s the magic of the holidays.

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On a sadder note…. My friend Rachel just wrote to me about a 12 year-old boy named Lucas Goldbaum. He has an inoperable brain tumor and his mother is trying to raise money for a very expensive, experimental vaccine that looks like Lucas’ only hope. She is trying to raise $250,000 by December 31st. Any donations are appreciated.  Even a few dollars.

Make your check payable to Cedars-Sinai Medical Center. In the check notation, please write, “In honor of Lucas Goldbaum. Mail to KC Miller, Cedars-Sinai Medical Center, 8700 Beverly Blvd, Suite 2416, LA, CA, 90048.

For more information on Lucas Goldbaum and this fundraising effort, email me at kelcey@mamabirddiaries.com.

And a quick reminder… I’m giving away two $30 gift cards to The Children’s Place. Just leave a comment on the mama bird diaries this week and you are entered. Just mention your  desire for one of these gift cards so I know you are interested in the giveaway. Good luck birdies!

So after a two month hiatus, I finally went back to yoga class.

I got up at 6:15 in the morning and walked to the gym. In the dark. In the rain. In the cold.

But damn it, I got there. And the class started perfectly well.

Until smack in the middle of it, our yoga instructor suddenly stops and tells us all that a few days ago, she was hit by a car. Everyone just kind of stares at her.  And no one knows what to say because we are mid sun salutation and it’s just the oddest time to bring this up.

Many minutes go by as she gives us a detailed account of the accident. She was crossing the street. The car actually ran over her. She was between the wheels. Screaming for help. She is fortunate to be alive.

I am horrified.

And very guilty. Because I really want her to stop talking and continue the class. You know, in a very compassionate way.

I’m wondering if I can at least do some stretching while I listen to this super scary tale.

And then she says something that makes absolutely no sense.

“I want to do something different today. I guess because of the accident. I don’t know. So let’s partner up.”

OH NO! Please don’t punish us with a partner. We weren’t driving the car. I’m sorry about the accident. I’m so glad you are ok. PLEASE don’t do this. I’ll chauffeur you around. Anywhere you want to go. Just please don’t make me -

The guy next to me offers to be my partner.

No offense to my very nice partner but if I’m going to touch some random guy, I want to be single, drunk and in the dark.

But it’s done. I’m nowhere near the door. There is no exit. I am so Kevin Costner. There is simply no way out.

So we sit inches apart, holding hands and do this leg stretching thing.

And then a back stretch (yes, holding hands AGAIN).

And then the teacher instructs us to “thank” our partner and believe me, I am THANKFUL – that it’s over.

You know what really pisses me off?

I’ll just bet my partner is complaining to his co-worker right now about the yoga girl with the super sweaty hands or something.

See – this is why it’s so much easier to just not go to the gym in the first place.

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Marinka won the Radio City Christmas Spectacular tickets. Congrats girl!

Johanna and Stephanie (Tyler’s mom) won the Darius Goes West DVDs! Congrats mama birds. Just send your address to kelcey@mamabirddiaries.com and I will send the videos along.

This week I’m giving away two $30 gift cards to The Children’s Place. This is a fabulous place to shop for kids. Super affordable and you can find some really cute stuff like darling pajamas and robes. Just leave a comment on the mama bird diaries this week and you are entered. Just mention your desperate desire for one of these gift cards so I know you are interested in the giveaway.