Presents

Presents are fun. I like both the giving and the getting, as long as the motivation is good. Christmas can be an awful time for obligatory gifts.

My sister's in-laws diligently make lists, set budgets, and share this information with each family member months ahead of Christmas. They even email each other once they've bought something from someone's list so there isn't duplication. Then, on Christmas morning, they give each other the things they specifically asked for. Of course it fits, the colour is right, the model is the exact one they wanted. From the outside, it appears to be an entirely joyless exercise. My own family was heading this direction the last few years, so I decided to do something about it.

Last year, we were all together in my parents' house for the holidays for the first time in years, maybe since my niece was brand new. It was the last time too, as the house is sold now. We put everyone's name in a hat, Mom and Dad included. No keeping your spouse's name, but otherwise, that's who you're responsible for next year. You have a whole year to make a gift specifically for that person. Spend what you need to for materials, no budget. I told them I didn't want their money, I don't need anything, each of them have skills, and I would be happy to have a handmade gift from any of them.

I drew my mother. I'm quite proud of how my gift turned out and the reaction I earned in the giving. It represents about 40 hours of work between design, layout, and execution. It cost me less than $10 and it was fun to make. The rest baked, sewed, stitched, and nailed gifts together. I haven't surveyed the crew to see if it was good enough to do again next year. I hope so.

My in-laws buy stuff for each other, but they go about it with good intentions. They think about a person, what they do, what they might need, things they like, then they go shopping. Inside jokes in place of exhaustive lists prioritized by level of desire. Both brothers bought toys for the other. Grown men giving BB guns and remote controlled helicopters. Usually Mom puts some sort of cheap toy in the stockings, something guaranteed to break within the hour, and we run around racing wind-up cars or shooting each other with Nerf arrows like we're eight years old. 

I hope your Christmas was a good one. Mine sure was. Now go make something.