My mom gives tours of wine country, so sometimes gives us extra bottles from those she acquires. My husband gets free wine sometimes, usually gifts from people at work. One such find was 2005 Dry Creek Valley Zinfandel from Dashe Cellars. Usually we drink the free bottles, enjoy them, and move on to the next.

But Dashe has become a favorite of mine. I've purchased several bottles and should probably just bite the bullet and buy a case. (My birthday is next month, y'all! I'll happily take some, although there are restrictions on shipping wine to CA, just as Argentina doesn't let anyone send leather in because they have plenty enough already to send out.)

I wish I were sophisticated enough to spew forth the appropriate vocabulary to describe why I enjoy this particular wine. It is definitely smoky, and not too watery. It has several different distinct notes, all of which are a melody rather than a cacophony with a bitter finish. The weight is pleasing and I have found it accompanies anything I decide to eat alongside.

Joshua Green of Wine & Spirits Magazine writes: "The soft, meaty tannins of this wine slowly release its zinfadel flavors of sassafras, cool, dark cherry and warm mulberries. It continues to lengthen with air, a Dry Creek edge to the texture that will suit Mediterranean-style roast lamb."

Certainly I am not going to have a career as a wine expert, but I thought I'd mention this special find since I've enjoyed it immensely. For me to actually buy wine when typically it floats its way into our home on its own is a huge complement to Dashe Cellars.

Last autumn, I volunteered to bring the pumpkin pie to the First Grade Thanksgiving Feast. The pies needed to be cut into uniform pieces to serve four classes worth of students. Since most store-bought pumpkin pies contain cloves – which the Cat is allergic to – I was going to make homemade pumpkin bars. They cut easily into squares (easier to serve than pie slices!) and would no doubt adhere to the school’s “Wellness Policy” because I knew I wasn’t going to use additional sugar, and I use real vanilla, no artificial flavors, and no funky preservatives. It seemed like a winning situation.

But I made a tragic mistake: Instead of just showing up with 13,284 pumpkin bars, I emailed the woman in charge of the volunteers to let her know of my plans. She had said to buy “four Costco pies and cut into bite-sized pieces.” I figured the mention of Costco was an attempt to let people relax about not having to bake themselves, so didn’t think there would be any reason to object to someone who wanted to take on that responsibility. So, when I volunteered, I said I’d happily bake bars.

Her response was, “The committee decided to serve Costco's pumpkin pies,” but that I was “welcome to bake a special pie for [the Cat.]”

In Michelle Lamar and Molly Wendland’s The White Trash Mom Handbook they refer to such committees as “The Muffia,” a term they lovingly lifted from I Don’t Know How She Does It. Indeed, this particular lady is leader of our school’s Muffia, but unlike White Trash Mom’s assertion that the Muffia wishes to condemn those who aren’t perfect, this particular “you must only bring store-bought goods,” was a twist on that. It is almost as though this particular woman wanted to make sure that I didn’t get credit for being capable enough to bake enough pumpkin bars for around eighty First Graders. (And, in this cruel twist, this meant that my son would be singled out as not having what the other kids had – and I had to foot the bill for all that nasty artificial crud, the leftovers which were returned to me, of course.)

Later, a fellow non-Muffia-Mom (who White Trash Mom would simply call a Fellow White Trash Mom - but I view this particular friend more as a Hippie-Free-Spirit more than straight from the trailer park) ran into the aforementioned woman shouting out directions to her volunteers. My very strong, unflappable friend whispered nervously, “I am SCARED of her!” Indeed, upon speaking to other moms, I learned there was no “committee” that decided on the Costco pies. The “committee” was just Muffy.

I received The White Trash Mom Handbook via the Parent Bloggers Network. It is written by the same gal behind the blog of the same name, plus with “inside-information” from her former-Muffia Friend “Tacky Princess.”

While I don’t listen to “Country and Western” or quite feel comfortable wearing tie-dye, I got some great tips from this book. Part of the White Mom Trash Philosophy (thankfully spelled out quickly at the start of the book) involves not worrying so much about what other people think. Indeed, I am very guilty of that: I am an approval-seeker, which means those “Muffia” folks definitely have a victim in me. (I have plenty of juicy anecdotes like the pumpkin pie one.) But if I learn to “take a chill pill,” I should be able to accomplish much more than if I am trying to live up to an unattainable standard of perfection.

Indeed, White Trash Mom talks about how the perfect people must have help. And in my neighborhood, they do: nannies, housekeepers, personal chefs, and personal trainers. I do not. And yes, I am sure there are plenty of folks in our school who don’t either, but the most visible folks are also the most pampered.

Being “White Trash” is not about bucking all expectations and rebelling loudly, because as is mentioned many times in the book, your kids will suffer. On one hand, being “White Trash” is “still holding on to the flicker of light [you] had before having kids,” but on the other hand, “you need to be involved in some manner because the school needs you,” so “think of yourself last and put your child first.”

“White Trash Mom” and “Tacky Princess” give a run-down on school volunteer opportunities with their unique cost-benefit analysis (ROI: Return on Investment.) They mention ways short-cuts can be taken without anyone getting truly hurt. It is essentially all about balance: not trying to be Superwoman, but also not being a complete slacker.

I admit that I found a few contradictions in the book, but that is because there are many contradictions in real life. For example, the book disapproves of the Muffia’s over-scheduling of kids’ activities, particularly sports activities where the child is unlikely to ever play professionally or even in college or high school. But one of the pieces of advice (that I cheered!) was to sign up kids for activities outside of school. That way, if a bully at school is making life miserable, the kid has friends from outside of school.

Indeed, my kids’ activities are primarily with kids who don’t attend their school. (And yes, the Cat’s soccer team is a “club sport,” where he had to try out. But I think everyone made the team. Shhhh! Don’t tell him!). My own tumultuous social life in elementary school was balanced by the many hours I spent dancing with kids who didn’t know my in-school social status. Having that outlet physically and socially was valuable for me, and I hope it is for my kids as well.

But I do agree with White Trash Mom that it isn’t productive for the kids to be pushed in multiple sports if it is all about the parents’ benefit instead of for the kids’ enjoyment. Knowing when it is about the kid and when it is about the parent is hard.

The White Trash Mom Handbook begins with a dose of social philosophy and psychology, and then continues on to actual “tips” to hopefully decrease stress while still supporting teachers in the “unwritten curriculum.” It is about keeping up with expectations and appearances in a way that benefit, instead of hurt, the kids. Tips about handling work, cleaning, and cooking are all in here. I’ll happily contribute to The White Trash Mom Cookbook (yes, I see a companion book in the future) because while the recipes in that section indeed look yummy and easy, I have a bunch of easy recipes that don’t rely so heavily on the processed foods. Being healthy need not be a Muffia-trait.

Even if you don’t like the term “White Trash Mom” – put away your biases or I’ll accuse you of being part of the Muffia -- The White Trash Mom Handbook is worth a read. (pick it up at Amazon) It challenges us to be true to ourselves and our instincts while still accepting responsibility for our kids and household. The book is humorous, practical, and surprisingly thought-provoking. It is going to take some effort to wean me from my wanting-to-please-everyone ways, but at least I know there are others struggling with the same tendencies.

Husband and I typically end up with multiples of the same gift, like the year we both got each other America. Typically the duplicates end up because Husband will talk about how much he wants something, so I'll buy it for him. But days before Christmas, he'll go out and purchase whatever is already wrapped under the tree.

So I stopped listening to his first choice, figuring he'd get it for himself. I focused more on the "lower down" priority items.

Last year he kept talking about a slingbox. But I thought I knew better. I wasn't going to purchase something he'd no doubt buy on his own during Thanksgiving sales or Pre-Christmas sales or Friday Fry's sales.

The day before Christmas, Husband mentioned how excited he was that he'd be getting a slingbox for Christmas. He assumed that is what I had already bought. He was ecstatic.

Except I hadn't bought one, of course.

Not wanting to disappoint him, I quickly went online to Best Buy and did an in-store pickup order. While the store itself had long lines and packed aisles, the in-store pickup line was small. We were out of the store - coveted present in hand - in less time that it took us to find parking.

And so, my first tip to those of you who have waited too long to shop for Christmas (or the latter half of Hanukkah) is to see which big stores have in-store pickup. It is easy to browse online for that perfect gift, and typically is pretty easy to pick it up since most stores have separate lines for their online sales.

(The one exception I found to this was when I bought a camera at Circuit City - the closest store was sold out, so I purchased it at a store a half hour away. Guess what happened? That store didn't have it when I arrived, but discovered that my local store did! In the end I got my camera, but that particular excursion took a lot of driving and involved confusion.)

Another idea is the dreaded overnight shipping - yet for stores like zappos.com that already ship overnight, you're golden. Still, most overnight shipping options are pretty pricey, so you might want to brave the malls.

Or, you could buy something that is electronically fulfilled, such as an iTunes gift certificate or an Amazon.com gift certificate delivered via email.

Plenty of websites offer extended content for a fee. No, I am not suggesting purchasing "adult materials" for your preteen cousin. Rather, for kids there are sites like Club Penguin, a favorite of my boys. While the basic experience is plenty of fun, being a member allows the little penguins to accumulate coins to purchase pet puffles, buy snazzy new outfits, and deck out their igloo like budding interior designers would. In the Cat's case, that means purchasing as many toy trains as possible to create a "rug."

For older folks, there is Happy Neuron. I learned about this brain fitness website shortly after I had realized that I wasn't very good at the Brain Age DS game. (And don't even talk to me about Big Brain Academy.) "Mommy brain" is no myth: my brain is so filled with details of appointments, tasks, and managing other folks' lives that I don't have time to read or do puzzles to expand the other parts of my brain.

As we age, our brain "sags" just like our bodies do. Those who keep mentally fit by exercising their brain end up faring much better than those who don't. Plus, it is fun (until the computer tells you that you are mentally weak, that is!)

Happy Neuron is offering a 20%-off holiday special on a year's membership to the website. Members have access to 35 games (plus 5 beta Wii games.) The games fit in five categories: visual-spacial, attention, executive function, memory, and language. Each game has several difficulty levels, plus the program itself will recommend games based on the user's weaknesses.

I tried using the "coach" function whereby the computer is supposed to take me through an optimum combination of games based on my preferences, time available to "work out," and my past performance. Unfortunately, this feature didn't work for me (I was given a login free for the purposes of review, but perhaps this is a feature only available to full members, not reviewers.) And so, I tried out the five free games.

Does it surprise you that on the "split words" game that I was able to do the one about football but did horrifically on the "agriculture" one? (I can still hear my grandmother's tsk-tsk from many years ago when she learned I couldn't tell the difference between different types of cows. Sorry, I don't know anything about farming.) I thought I would do fantastically on "Catch the Ladybug" because after college I was a research assistant in a visual psychophysics lab. We did lots of "search" experiments, and since I had to program and test such things, I became very good at visual search. But my downfall in this Happy Neuron game was my trackball skills. I saw the ladybug immediately, but had a hard time rolling my way over. Perhaps a traditional mouse would be better in this instance.

There are other games that rely on time where an individual's ability to move the mouse becomes a limiting factor. This concerns me for the grandparent-set who might otherwise benefit from these mind-enhancing games. For these folks, those games without a time limit (but which will still record time) would be more accurate: as their time decreases with practice, the improvement can be attributed more to mental performance and less to mousing-ability. But for games that stop if the user fails to provide the answer, the individual wouldn't be able to practice the actual task unless the time required could be increased.

I love that there are a variety of games to "train" the user so the "workouts" are not boring. The site has a section on brain fitness science, plus has recommendations for other (sometimes offline) products. In addition to the aforementioned Wii games in beta, there is also a "Happy Neuron Junior" program in development. The Cat loves various games, particularly online. Although some of the games I've played through Happy Neuron are perfectly appropriate for him, I imagine the "junior" version will have aspects (such as in the "language" category) that will better fit his grade level.

Consider Happy Neuron for that otherwise difficult-to-buy-for adult. Grandmothers have enough perfume, bath oil, and lotion. And does Granddad really need another tie? Young(er) adults would like these games, too, so don't think your recipient needs to have grey hair. (I think my parents are sharper than I am at this point, anyway.)

Or maybe spend some time on the site yourself; it certainly wouldn't hurt! After all, the present I am getting for Husband is one that I hope to get myself at some point. This is one year where I'm actually hoping for a duplicate (but not expecting it.)

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My Ultimate Family Vacation would be part-private, part-people-watching. I'd want comfort, but then a little chaos. I'd want beautiful scenery, but also an opportunity to just sit in one place.

I'd love to have a luxurious pool all to myself and my family. The pool would have a swim-up bar, naturally. And of course it would need a waterfall and waterslide to entertain the kids. Yes, as much as it would be fun to have a "date vacation" with my hubby, I can't help but think my kids would adore time away from home as well. Perhaps the pool would have a little cave inside, but with a lifeguard carefully watching "just in case." Sure, we'd need a hot tub, although the regular pool temperature would already be warm. I'd love to have such an experience available to us at night. The pool would have plenty of tiny lights and other visual features.

Our hotel suite would include both sleeping quarters and a relaxation area. The reading nook would be far enough away from those asleep that lights or the sound of a computer beeping wouldn't be a distraction. In a truly "ultimate vacation" I'd be allowed to have a night (or five) without work; but knowing that such a thing is unlikely, I'd wish for reliable wireless internet that would enable me to get the deeds done as quickly as possible. No tiny circle table can contain the massive electronic needs of my family, so a booth-style long table or bar-type countertop easily accessible to an outlet (or power strip) would be a bonus. No uncomfortable chairs, please; we'd want cushions, preferably leather. (Mmm, I love the smell of leather...)