Heart of Haiti

It’s been almost a year since the ground shook and the world as we knew it almost ended for the country of Haiti. I remember following the news so closely, riveted, spending countless hours poring over the Internet or lying awake in bed, wondering what I could do to help.

Turns out, even after all this time has passed, there are still ways to help. And, ironically, we can still help in a uniquely first-world way: by shopping.

Macy’s has partnered with the Heart of Haiti initiative to offer jewelry and art for sale, each piece handcrafted by native Haitian artisans, allowing them to use their talents and passions to help provide food and shelter, improve access to health care and education -- for themselves, their families, and their communities.

And the pieces these artists have created are really, really stunning. I took one look at the large "Feast of the Sea" bowl and I was instantly transported to somewhere bright, sunny, happy. I can hear music and laughter, smell the sea and the sunshine, and I am amazed and awed that such beauty and joy can come out of a place that, only a year ago, was overwhelmed by such sorrow and devastation.

I hope to put it in my kitchen, to remind me every day of all the things that I love and, most of all, the things I must not take for granted. And to remind us all that out of great destruction can come such beautiful creation.

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I was selected for this very special “CleverHaiti” opportunity by Clever Girls Collective, which endorses Blog With Integrity. All opinions are my own.

Paying It Forward

I usually read The Bloggess because she's funny, but today she inspired me.

It shouldn't have been The Bloggess who inspired me, but it was. I should have remembered about the Christmas soup and the kindness of strangers and taken care of "giving back" earlier, but I was so busy trying to wrap my head around my own problems that I didn't think about anyone else's.

Today, that changes.

We've been really lucky this year, all things considered. My husband was out of work for almost a year and a half, but he started a new job in September. Some people we know were laid off at the same time he was, or even before, and are still looking. Even while he wasn't working, we were fine. Maybe not as comfortable as we would have liked to be, but he was able to collect unemployment and we were careful about his severance and very good about saving our tax refund, plus I still have my job, so we were fine. We made do without a lot of stuff we probably didn't need anyway, but all of our basic needs and even most of our wants were satisfied.

We have our house, we have our cars, we have our iPhones and HD TV and World of Warcraft and Chinese take-out a couple of times a month. We have our health, we still a little bit left in the bank, and we have each other. We've got more going for us than probably 99.99% of the world, and probably more than 90% of the people we know.

I know that we are among the lucky ones. Boy, do I know it.

So as of right now -- and like I said, I really should have done this earlier, but what's done is done -- I've decided that I'm spending part of this weekend giving back. I still have some shopping to do, and while I am shopping for the people in my life who will be receiving treats on Christmas, I will also be setting aside something for those people who might not have anything at all otherwise.

On Monday morning, I will be making a $50 donation to Second Harvest Food Bank of Lehigh Valley & Northeast Pennsylvania. And you can help increase that amount: for every person who comments on this post between now and Sunday 12/19/10 at midnight ET, I will be making an additional donation of $2, up to an additional $50, for a maximum contribution of up to $100. So tell your friends to drop by, leave their names, tell me I'm a talentless hack, whatever -- as long as they leave a comment.

Every dollar buys 7 meals for people who need them. Together we can provide breakfast and lunch for almost a full year to someone in need. Let's do it. Let's pay it forward.



(Disclaimers: SHFBLV did not solicit this contribution in any way. The base donation and any additional donations per comment are purely voluntary on my part. Commenters do not need to leave full name, rank, and serial number, but entirely anonymous comments will not be accepted, and spam will not be counted. Calling me a bleeding-heart liberal or a hysterical liberal moonbat is entirely unnecessary because I already know that. If you have any questions, please contact me at the email address in the sidebar.)

All I Can Do Is Write About It

So ... resolutions. We're already week into the new year and I haven't come up with any yet. This is in large part because I suck at life, but also because I suck at keeping my own resolutions that I haven't even committed to paper yet. Dumbass. Oh, look, there's another resolution I've broken! Dear God in heaven, I am a freaking moron. But I pretty much expected this anyway, and if I have learned only one thing in my 35 years on this planet, it is that I am notoriously bad at sticking to things (except husbands, apparently).

I think everybody kind of resents making New Year's resolutions, at least a little bit. It's tough enough to face the hangover from cheap champagne and too much crab dip, but it's tougher still to face the realization that you're imperfect in so many ways and that pretty much everything about yourself needs to change or else: Doom! Foreboding! Recession! Armageddon! Riots! Fires! Mudslides! Sushi in the mall! Or maybe that's just me -- I am kind of a worst-case-scenario sort of thinker, which certainly makes my messianic tendencies ... interesting.

But tough as it is, I actually want to confront what is wrong with me this year -- well, some of what is wrong with me, anyway. Going head-to-head with my demons is a very frightening prospect if I jump right into the deep water, and it would end up taking me to a very dark, dank place that I am not yet fully ready to visit. (Illidan: "You are not prepared.") And I know this much: I am NOT going to jump into that whirlpool just yet, because I'm not sure whether I can swim back out right now. I need to do what I can right now, and save some battles for another day.

Maybe I can't chase all the monsters from under my bed in one year, but if I do this right, maybe I can get those goblins to look more like Sulley and less like ... I don't know, that clown from "It" or something. (What? Clowns creep me right the fuck out.)

Taking all that into consideration, and also keeping in mind that I really wanted to come up with some resolutions that are (1) possible for me to keep, and also (2) potentially going to make a good story if I fail spectacularly, I have come up with this sad little list of things that I want to work on this year. Yes, these are primarily superficial. Yes, these are probably a pathetic attempt at polishing the giant turd that is my life sometimes. But you know what? Baby steps, grasshopper: change your environment, change your outlook, change your life. Maybe. At least try.

And anyway, this is only Part One. (Oh my God, do I ever shut up?)

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(1) THIS YEAR, I RESOLVE TO CLEAN MY ROOM. I put this at the top of the list because it's probably the most horrifying, difficult, and embarrassing of all the resolutions I could have possibly come up with. As I was putting together different variations of this list, this is the one I kept coming back to, so I know it needs to be here. So I begin 2009 with a confession: my bedroom? Is a fiasco. Not exactly dirty, but it's just ... overloaded. Full of clutter. Multiple hampers full of clean laundry that needs to be sorted and put away. Dust and books and tchotchkes.

This resolution might also be problematic because it's not something I will be able to do on my own. G is going to need to help me. It's really OUR mess, and we need to dig ourselves out together. We keep Cupcake's room clean, we put her laundry away in a timely manner, we donate outgrown and unwanted and unused toys and books -- but we are doing this for her, trying to set a good example that we are not following ourselves. I need to be the responsible adult I want her to be, so: this year, I resolve to clean my room.

(2) THIS YEAR, I RESOLVE TO BE MORE "GREEN" WHEN I CLEAN. Partly related to my top resolution, but partly a stand-alone endeavor. We recycle and reuse, and are already working on reducing where we can. There is much more we can do -- switchlightbulbs , adjust the thermostats, go back to carpooling once the adoption is final and we can change our schedules back -- and we are gradually trying to change our lifestyles so that these things are automatic to us, and will be automatic for our daughter.

The next step logical step in the process, for me anyway, is to start replacing our regular cleaning products with "green" cleaners. We have already done this with our liquid dish detergent -- remember, baby steps! -- and when I go to the store today to buy fabric softener, I will be buying an eco-friendly product. I am still researching bathroom and kitchen cleansers to find ones that will sufficiently sanitize (I like my sinks and toilets to be clean enough for surgery) and welcome feedback and suggestions. Starting this year, I resolve to be more "green" when I clean.

(3) THIS YEAR, I RESOLVE TO BE MORE "AWARE" WHEN I SHOP. This is both a sociopolitical and an economic position that I am trying to take. Money is tight, so of course price is a factor when I need to buy things, but I also want to feel good about my purchases. Doesn't mean I'm about to start buying only "Made in the USA" items, although if they are cost-effective I will try. But instead of always getting new things all the time, I will start checking thrift and consignment shops for gently used clothes and stuff like laundry baskets.

Of all my resolutions, I think this one might be the hardest, but it's the one single thing that I think is the most valuable. I mean, in 2008 we donated close to a dozen bags of clothes to thrift stores. We did it to make room for the baby first, and for the tax write-off second, but now that I know the kind of good that groups like Goodwill do for the community, it makes sense to try to support them as much as possible. And why pay full retail price for Cupcake's clothes when she's growing out of them before she can wear some of them? In 2009, I resolve to be more "aware" when I shop.

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I am working on some more -- funny ones, I hope, but this year is the first time in a while that I am taking my resolutions seriously -- but I wanted to get these out there, "permanently," so I can keep reminding myself what I'm supposed to be working on. (And not that you asked, but? "Stop procrastinating so much" is totally going to be on the rest of the list, in some form.)

So, probably against all better judgment (but when have I ever been known to show that?), we went shopping today. Our first stop was BJ's, for cat litter, and then we ventured to Toys 'R Us, which is so many kinds of stupid it can't really be quantified. But I wanted to try to get everything done for my Christmas Kid, and what she wanted was toys, and I want to go on record as saying that I might be crazy for going to Toys R Us, but believe me when I say that even I know it would have been retarded to get anywhere near a Wal-Mart.

I've "sponsored" a Christmas Kid every year since I started my current job. My company hooks up with a local children's charity and we get info packets on needy kids. You know me and my weak little bleeding heart; as soon as I heard about the program, I signed up. It never once occurred to me not to. You get a name, some basic information like sizes and toy list, and a bag for you to fill with goodies. The usual Christmas stuff -- clothes, books, toys. I also get basics like hairbrushes, toothbrushes, and socks, because I have some kind of thing for socks.

This year I got a girl who will be two in January. I requested a little kid for the past two years because I've always found something ... illogical, maybe? ... about getting consumer electronics for teenagers whose families can't afford Christmas presents. I have no compunction about getting a CD player, and since I'm a retail commando I can totally get one for almost nothing. But if their parents can't afford a cheapo generic Discman in the first place, where are they going to get CD's?

Anyway, I was wrapping today's acquisitions and I was sort of freaking out, because my bag looks so empty this year. When I first showed G the wish list for this little girl, he was partly stunned, because it was a short list. "Doll, learning toy, blocks, play telephone, toy box." That's verbatim. I am not the least bit ashamed to tell you that I might be more excited than she will be when I found light-up sparkle Strawberry Shortcake sneakers in her size.

But for all the good stuff I got -- two outfits, a hat and gloves, barettes, adorable pajammies with monkeys on them, a musical tea set -- I still feel like a cheap bitch. Why isn't the bag full yet? I've been shopping for more than a full month, and there are still two weeks to go. What else can I get? Probably dozens of things, maybe hundreds. More clothes? A new coat? Perhaps a little baby doll so she has someone to have tea parties with?

One thing I do know: it will probably take me years of this sort of penance before I feel like I've repaid the Universe for all the good karma it's thrown my way. I don't care how much it costs, or how "over budget" I go when I'm shopping for these kids. Because if not for me, they might not have a Christmas. And I must do what I can, because I am a Haldaman, and one year someone gave my Dad tomato soup for Christmas.

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The now legendary story of the Christmas Tomato Soup has been verified by my grandmother, the one who was born in the manger next to Jesus, so I know it has not been made up, but that doesn't make it any more mythical or extraordinary. And now matter how many times I hear about it -- I think we are going on eleventy bajillion times, now -- it still does things to my hard, black, bitter, little heart that I cannot control or understand.

As far as I can tell, the facts are these: My father is one of thirteen children. His family lived in a small house, everyone together, on a very tight budget. Sometimes, they did not get all new things for Christmas. Sometimes, their Christmas dinner was barely enough. But always, no matter what, there was Christmas. It might not be what the rest of us take for granted, but it was what it was, and it is what it is, and they made do, and were happy.

When my father was about 7 years old, so the story goes, someone asked him what he wanted for Christmas. And he said -- this is my father, remember, so don't say I didn't warn you -- "tomato soup." Always he has been a simple man with understated expectations. Do your best, work hard, love each other, clean your room, eat your soup. So to me, it is no surprise that he would ask for soup for Christmas. My daddy loves tomato soup.

I don't know how much time passed between when my father asked for soup and when Christmas came, but I know that things got rough. Really rough. Can't get a confirmation on this, because it was so long ago, but I believe there was a strike at the Steel that year, and my grandfather was out of work for a while over the holidays because of it. So when it came time to get presents? Yeah, not so much.

Except an amazing thing happened: everyone got what they wanted that year. Everyone in the family. And nobody knows how or why. Presents appeared on Christmas morning. And my dad? Got a whole case of tomato soup. He says it was one of his best Christmases ever.

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This is the way I was raised: don't be greedy. Ask for what you want, but want what is simple. I don't really ask for much around the holidays. The best Christmas present I ever got was my iPod, which is seriously the coolest toy ever, and which I never expected. When I asked for it, I was kidding. One of my sisters is making my Christmas present this year. And I am giving everything I can to this little girl, whom I've never met, whom I might never meet, because one year someone got my dad tomato soup for Christmas.

Whatever you want this year? I hope you get it. And I hope you can find it in your hearts -- hard, black, bitter and little or not -- to share.

Happy holidays.