Christmas 2010

He’s makin’ a list…Checkin’ it twice…Gonna find out who’s naughty or nice.

While resorting to my (now infamous) Naughty and Nice Form Letter may lack creativity, I assure you that it is only out of respect for tradition that I follow the same trusted format (lie). Yet again, I bring you the shamefully candid, holiday greetings from our quirky family. Brace yourself for this year’s Aloha-ha!

Mr. Forget-me-not

Naughty: Impressive as it may sound, Captain America, spent his year gallivanting around the globe, racking up serious United Air Miles (way to go, Honey), visiting some of the most exotic and romantic places on earth (ahem, Paree), but without…moi! For whatever reason, as he stood atop the Eifel Tower, he thought it a good idea to call me. Our “shared” moment was unforgettable, just how I’d always imagined! Mr. Forget-me-not overlooking the City of Lights, me behind the wheel of our mini-van, driving the afternoon carpool. Ahh…such romance! In the end, although blemished by his momentary lapse of better judgment, he did redeem himself (as usual) by traipsing back with another box of exquisite European chocolates. You. Are. Forgiven. European chocolate can right almost any wrong. How do they say it in France? C’est la vie. Yes, that’s it. Now hand over the good stuff, Buddy, before anyone gets hurt.

Nice: Did I mention that Mr. Forget-me-not is my supplier of fine chocolates? Oh, yes, I did say that. Although, the box of tea he came home with after a pit stop through London was another nice consolation prize. Those Brits, they flat out know how to do tea. The kids, however, would tell you that Dad’s nicest surprise had nothing to do with trinkets from exotic lands. In an effort to prove himself Captain America, but more importantly, Captain Fun, he turned a junk tire into a tree swing. It hangs in our backyard off the branch of a mango tree. (How do I even compete with that much material? Fine, whatever, so the kids like you better. I always knew it was true.)

The Florist (29 and not a wrinkle to be found)

Naughty: Despite our Hawaii address, this ONE (and only) naughty has almost nothing to do with a grass skirt. Assuming you missed the flare gun to the sky on December 12^th…I ran the Honolulu Marathon, with what seemed like, half of Tokyo. Ko-knee-chee-wah, my fellow marathoners! I did it: Wearing a running skirt, not a hula skirt. Let’s face it, our Christmas newsflash is my forum to brag (aside from the blog, of course). Artistic liberty, if you will. And how many times can I brag about running a marathon? (Answer: once.) Okay…brag about jogging a marathon. The difference, I assure you, is profound. Still, 26.2 people. Word to yo’ Mutha. Respect the miles. Tempted as I was to grunt Japanese profanities at the wall-hitting, 23-mile mark, straight up Diamond Head (freaking volcanic island we call home), I didn’t. Read: Did. Not. Swear. (At least not in Japanese.)

Nice: Gave my husband a small, tiny really, hardly noticeable at all, stroll down Guilty Lane. It’s true, he missed my first, last, and only, Monumental Marathon Moment. Sure, sure, I know he’s off saving the world or something like that, but is it too much to ask that his globe trotting ways (hitting everywhere except, Harlem) be interrupted long enough to see me cross the finish line? No matter, a blunder like this will surely get me two boxes of chocolates! (Aren’t you impressed by how I weaved my shameless marathon bragging rights into both my naughty and nice? Smooth, I know.)

Hibiscus (8 ½)

Naughty: Loosely translated, her Hawaiian name means--Calm Ocean Water. I’ve considered submitting alternative translations. Surely there must be something more fitting for our girl. Let’s see…Intense ocean water? Sibling-teaser in the ocean water? No, no, we’ll stick with calm. Always good to have a goal.

Nice: She’s our ukulele rock star, thanks to a year of (free!) lessons with, Uncle Mel and the Keiki Palaka Band! Her diligence has paid off, as she can now jam on the ukulele. She fills our home with spirited fun and joyful music! As the leader of the pack, we hope her younger siblings follow suit and develop a Hawaiian talent all their own. Hula? Juggling coconuts? Give us a couple more years and we’re sure to surprise you with our performing island trio (or three-ring circus, depending how you see it).

Columbine ( 5 ½)

Naughty: Personally, I don’t have a problem with this naughty, since I appreciate anyone willing to do my job for me. (Takers? Anyone, anyone?) Her siblings, however, especially the baby brother who is determined to prove his total UN-baby-ness, is especially irked by it. She, fancies herself, The Baby Whisperer, quick to mother anyone (willing or not) in need of even the slightest maternal affection and direction. Again, I welcome her help. Her siblings, um, not so much.

Nice: Straight from heaven, I tell you, this one is an angel. Mother Columbine (yes, a distant cousin to Teresa) finds joy in the simple gifts and is quick to share them with others. It is a blessing to know her; it is a greater blessing to be loved by her.

The Dwarf Wooly Meadowfoam (3 ½)

Naughty: Funny (not really) that, Wooly and naughty, read almost synonymously in my mind. You want his recap of naughtiest moments for the year? So many stories, so little toner left in the printer cartridge. Here’s a colorful snapshot, each with a story to tell—2010, the year Wooly: escapes, hits, spits, screams, headbutts, and my personal favorite, sprints. Consider it a Christmas miracle that I haven’t lost him in public (permanently, that is--or given him away to anyone willing to chase him down) for all the times he’s ditched me, sprinting full speed ahead. No joke, the year provided countless abduction opportunities. Never fear! Captain America is here! (Not really…thus making Wooly's runaway attempts a consistent part of my marathon training.) Note to self: review genealogical record for Kenyan ancestry. It could explain a lot. Seriously.

Nice: On a good note (hold on, give me a minute, it’ll come) and in his defense (so that you don’t think my passionately reckless child is bound to live out his existence, strapped to the monkey backpack with the adorably confining leash. Because everyday feels like Disneyland at our house, right kids?) I’ll offer a list of his redemptive moments. Wooly is the best hugger, winker, knock-knock joker, hide-and-seeker, letter ‘A’ writer, and my personal favorite, POTTY TRAINED underwear-er. Oh yeah, baby! Goodbye diapers, hello big boy underoo’s! Now, if only we can teach him to stop broadcasting his newfound talent, “Look, Mom! I pooped a rocket!” Yep, that’s my boy.

…Santa Claus is coming to town!

Well, there you have it. (I ran a marathon this year!) There’s really nothing more to say. (I ran a marathon this year!) Ho-hum, just another day in paradise. (I ran a marathon this year!) I’m sure you all have much more interesting lives, full of goals and real aspirations (nothing like running a marathon…something I did this year!) If we’re lucky, Santa will overlook our naughty moments (like bragging to anyone and everyone about my you-know-what…MARATHON!!!) and fill our stockings will all sorts of goodies. Even if he doesn’t, (Did I mention that I ran a marathon this year?) at this time of the year and always, our family feels so very blessed! We are grateful for all of the goodness sent from Above, but most especially for our loved ones near and far. May this holiday season fill your heart with happiness.

Aloha nui loa,

The Florist & family