Nannette, Steve and the creatures: Shouldn't there be a warm fuzzy for providing a Barbie Dream House

Christmas is the time for giving and sharing, the time when people feel most charitable and have the most desire to help their neighbor and contribute to the good of mankind. I am not different. As an office, we decided to "adopt a family" (clearly it seemed far better than another dog) and provide Christmas for a less fortunate family. Like adopting anything, there was an agency involved who worked with us to choose our family and explain the program. It was explained to us that in order to qualify these family must provide proof of income, proof their children exist and proof their children are in school - sounds fair and reasonable. We were matched with a single mother and her three children. The parents fill out a "request" form of sorts listing the childrens clothing sizes, shoes sizes and two toys that the children have "wished" for ... as the adopter you are asked to provide two toys gifts (it doesn't have to be what was asked for) and a gift card to provide food for the week.

Easy enough right and how wonderful to provide a child with a lifetime memory of a Christmas morning ... I remember vividly waking up to Cabbage Patch Kids, Barbie Dream Houses (I really want it back now as it was sweet), bicycles and the best the original home Apple computer ... there were stockings full of candy, trendy pencils, stuffed animals and socks ... and in the end you sat with this glow on your face, eyes closing from exhaustion because you awoke so early to see what Santa left, all amidst piles upon piles of colorful shredded paper and discarded bows. As tired as you were, there was not time to sleep ... the Dream House needed occupants, the Cabbage Patch Kid needed a wardrobe change, or if you were lucky enough to get a preemie there was feeding and diaper changing and for goodness sake if you didn't ride that bike in your nightgown in the freezing cold (helmetless) the world would end. Not to mention the candy cane induced sugar can high that alone prevented you from returning to bed. How wonderful that I am fortunate enough to be able to provide this to another, bring a little girl her Barbie Dream house ... so it started.

We divided and conquered as a team and set off shoppping for items requested and others as we deemed appropriate. There were pink bicycles, rollerblades, stuff kittens, Hannah Montana Electric guitars, video games, card games, mittens, gloves, jackets, lip gloss, candy scented lotions, pens and pencils, Pez and more ... As we wrapped the gifts we mused over how jealous we were of the Hannah Montana guitar (that as of wrapping time had dead batteries), wondered if at 32 it was still cool to have streamers on your bike and blew off media kits to play Tetris, Simon and 20 questions. We imagined the 3 little girls opening their gifts, the giggles, the aw, the thrill of Christmas morning. We worried they wouldn't like it, we over thought ever detail adn imagined every Christmas morning scenario. Even though she asked for a "big stuffed cat" would she be just as excited about the litter of 4 unique stuffed kittens, seeing there isn't a single big stuffed cat available in Sin City ... Is her bike the right size? What about a helment? Does she have thick socks for her rollerblades? Do you think Old Maid is too lame? We gave it our all to make sure that when those little girls hurled themselves out of bed on Christmas morning, they experienced the joy that each of us had each year of our childhoods and beyond ... it felt so good!

Gifts wrapped and labeled, loaded in boxes, bow on bike we headed to the drop off location to drop off the wonderful gifts ... imaging what a relief this would be on the mother to be able to see the light in her childrens' eyes ... not to worry about their happiness for one day ... surely she's hardworking and just needs a helping hand, who hasn't in their lifetime. Hearts full of love and a truck full of 8 bags of wrapped packages and a bike, we pulled up at the organization's warehouse to make our donation and leave behind happiness for our adopted children.

At first I was overwhelmed with the sheer number of children's bikes and warmed at the thought there were so many other people out there who chose to share with those less fortunate. I know you shouldn't give and expect something in return, but a thank you, maybe a champagne toast would have been nice when Alex and I pulled up with more than $700 worth of "loot" for a family we don't know.

Let's be honest ..... adopt a whale >> get a picture

adopt a starving African child >> get a picture AND a letter

adopt a senior citizen >> get doilies and vivid stories of years gone by

adopt a dog >> get a hairy sofa, chewed sheos and unconditional love

Everything else you adopt, you get something, some sort acknowledgement that you've participated in the betterment of someone else's life ... something that gives you that warm feeling inside, the feeling that makes you want to hug the closests person to you ... you get something tangible or intangible.

I got something - a lump in my tummy and coldness in my heart.

The gifts were unloaded and we were scurried out, a rude young boy was at the front door blocking the entrance with no intent to move, despite several pleading "excuse mes" .... No one really thanked us, no one took time to check the gifts we had dropped off ... for God's sake people we could have bought them bongs and vodka ... no one asked for list to check it twice and find out if we were naughty or nice. There was no picture of a child or three ... there was nothing. Alex and I pulled away from the building silent ... it was anti-climatic.

A moment or two in the car and we realized the $150 gift card purchased to provide the family's Christmas meal was still in the car, so a quick U-turn and we were back, to drop off the remainder of what, if I do say so myself, will be a swinging Christmas.

When what to my wondering eyes should appear, but two "needy" families there early to pick up their "gear" ...

I know I shouldn't judge, I know judging is bad ... but really, if you are needy should you be dressed in trendy, quasi designer clothes - should you hair be freshly coifed - should your car be clearly recently detailed - at 3 pm on a Friday shouldn't you be working or looking for work - is it ethical to pick up a bag full of gifts for a 6-month-old baby?

My hair needs coifing, my truck needs detailing, I took time from work to do this, meaning I'll be working late tonight and I'm not quite sure how trendy I really look today --- however I just put your children first! I just took time out of my life and money from my account to give your child a Christmas, if not me, someone else did that - there is someone responsible for that black trash bag full of gifts that you are picking up, someone whose hand you should shake, neck you should hug and heart you should bless in your bedtime prayers.

Where is the accountability to the family in all of this ... where is the thank you note to the people who stopped their lives to provide for you ...? Shouldn't these people be required to give something back to the community for what they have been fortunate enough to receive?

If you are picking up the gifts early are you going to take them and sell them on Craigslist to make money for your hair habit? Will that little girl ever see her pink bike? Are you scamming the system and me ... hard working people who are putting themselves aside to put you first? Am I horrible for wondering this?

I have to wonder if I am just a hardened bitch? a spoiled brat? a pompous ass?

Life has never been hard for me, but it sure as hell has never been easy. I haven't struggled, but I have worked. I made the grades to get in to college and funded it with the help of my parents. I busted my ass to get the jobs I've had and worked even harder to keep them. I paid my bills and my dues and now feel fortunate enough to give to someone else who may be in a position where they are struggling ... so why is it that I feel like I just gave of myself to someone who is too lazy to support themselves of their children. Why do I want that pink bike back?

But, what is the definition of struggling? Should you be wearing holey shoes to deserve a pink bike? Or does a dead beat dad who doesn't support you after he knocked up your mom qualify? Does scamming the system for disability count since your laziness prevents you from supporting your kids or are you really disabled and really need a helping hand and pat on the back? What really qualifies as a struggle?

I wanted nothing more than to just feel the spirit of Christmas and the joy of giving. I wanted to know that I gave a little girl her Barbie Dream House - is that so much to ask for ... why did that have to be ruined by seeing people picking up their donated Christmas ... on that note, can you explain to me why it was necessary for you to pick up your gifts early ... I mean are you leaving town with the cash your saving since, along with my co-workers, I provided your entire Christmas? My shopping isn't done yet because I put your kids first, but you need to show up 4 days early to pick up the donated gifts for your kids? The regular pick up time was still 10 whole days before Christmas!

All I want is a picture of my whale ...

All I want is to know that pink bike was needed, was deserved and will be cherished they way I still cherish even the idea of the Barbie Dream House. I want to know that mother is going to have a huge weight lifted off of her shoulders knowing her kids can go on living in sweet, innocent bliss having no idea how much their mother has struggled and fought to provide for them. I want to know that my hours of shopping and agonizing over pink bikes meant something to someone and wasn't just a free hand-out because you could ...

I don't wish struggle on anyone, I just hope the someone who will reap the benefits of mine, appreciates it and when they dig their way out will do the same ... give another little girl her Barbie Dream House! I want to give a hand up not a hand out ... is that so wrong?

WHAT MAKES ME HAPPY!

Fat ballerinas in pink tutus

Ho-esque red dresses worn at inappropriate times

Strawberry Shortcake

Ornaments my Grandma made

Ornaments I made with my little hands

A warm feeling in my home