When I used to spend time studying with my children, we would all gather together around the dining room table. Each would set out his or her homework and prioritize it and if they had no homework, they were to be reading a book from a list I approved. While they worked, I tried to help each one if they needed it; if they worked well on their own, my own time was spent balancing the checkbook or some other small task. But it kept us focused and working well together as a unit. Many times the older children could help the younger ones with hints that they had used when they had previously studied the subject at hand.

We are all sticklers on spelling and grammar. So when I sent out Friday's Mom Bomb with a glaring typographical error in it (I didn't spell-check), I received this quote back from my younger son and I could almost hear him laughing at me:

"To spell correctly is a talent, not an acquirement. There is some dignity about an acquirement, because it is a product of your own labor. It is wages earned, whereas to be able to do a thing merely by the Grace of God and not by your own effort transfers the distinction to our Heavenly home -- where possibly it is a matter of pride and satisfaction but it leaves you naked and bankrupt."

The quote was from Mark Twain's autobiography. To begin with, he could not find the delight I found in Mark Twain. But he learned and says now that Mark Twain books make him wish for having lived in a simpler time.

As a family we played a myriad of semi-educational games: Scrabble, Chess, Monopoly, Trivial Pursuit. We often played as teams and everyone always wanted me on their team. It was a very fulfilling thing for me because I had been so much younger than my schoolmates, nobody ever wanted me for any team and I always felt like a loser. Trivial Pursuit is still a favorite, and someone will always ask, "Mom, do you know everything?" And the answer to that one is that I have a very good memory, but what I do NOT know would probably fill the Library of Congress. I miss those days of games. My father and I still like to play Chess together. He plays very well and is always about five moves ahead of himself. I play rather differently. No rules, no fancy names, and I will sacrifice all for my king. I'm often wreckless, but, as I play only one play at a time, it's more difficult for my opponent to get a "take" on my plot.

This morning was breakfast out, a chilly (and a little snowy) time spent at the dog park, where Othello was ecstatic because when Rachel is at home, there is someone who can throw a Frisbee. Now my father sleeps in the recliner, Rachel is plugged into her I-Pod listening to whatever is her music of the day, and I am facing a large room full of packages to be wrapped. And packing the car. Sigh. There has to be an easier way. I never realize just how many presents I have purchased until I start pulling the stashes all into one room to wrap. And I don't anticipate anyone throwing in an offer of help on this one. But I do love to wrap presents, even if the wrappings will be pulled off in 20 seconds and tossed aside. Earlier I was listening to Transiberian Orchestra music, now it has gone to Barry Manilow's Christmas album and I do love to sing along with Barry.

A mountainous task awaits, but before I start, I just wanted to quickly get online to say Happy Holidays to everyone. I'll be on the road tomorrow and may or may not get time to blog. And once in San Diego, if Rachel doesn't steal them away from me, I have two little boys (my grandsons) waiting for their Grandma to play. Actually one (the younger) calls me Grandma. The older one, for some reason, calls me by my first name, which I allow because it amuses me. We had a bit of a time getting him to use his last name when he started Kindergarten. And that same quirk leaves him calling me Luci. Auntie Rachel is Auntie Rachel, but I am just Luci. And proud to be just Luci.

Have wonderful family times. Try to do something totally unexpected for someone who doesn't expect it. Treat yourselves well. That's the formula that makes Christmas, Hannakah, or just plain a few days off and fulfilling success. And know that somewhere someone is loving all of you, even if you don't think so.