My 10 Most Favorite Childhood Gifts Ever!

I was in Target the other day when I realized Christmas is sort of approaching slowly, but surely. OK, so blame it on the fact that next to the Halloween costumes were aisles filled with Christmas wrap, cards and ornaments just itching to take over the Halloween section.

I love Christmas, it's one of my favorite holidays to reflect on years past. I could probably write several posts about my holiday memories. One thing we all remember are those three-page Christmas wish lists filled with games and toys which transformed into fancy electronics once we hit our teens.

For me, the "18 and over" Christmas lists became more mature and modest and included boring items like socks, gloves with postage stamps and deodorant as stocking stuffers. Once I hit 30, other than my Wedding Registry, I quit the wish list biz. These days, it's more like a mental note and a hint to Mom or DH, "I'd really like one of those Snuggies" or "Gift cards are nice and maybe a new frying pan."

But thinking back, there are gifts I'll never forget. Though I'm not sure if they were actually Christmas gifts or Birthday gifts - they were gifts I loved so very much I figured I'd share them with you. Maybe some of them were on your list once as well.

1. The Famous Holly Hobbie Oven
Every girl born in the early '70s had to have one. I loved that it was my favorite color, blue! Like most kiddie ovens, it came with the two signature cake mixes, one chocolate and one yellow. Funny thing is, once I ran out of cake mix, I think that oven just sat in my room. But whatever the case, I loved it anyway. It's amazing to think a high powered light bulb could actually bake a cake. Too bad it always took, what felt like, two hours to go from a watered down, sweet liquid to a minuscule cake that took all of two seconds to devour.




2. Barbie Hair Salon
Like most little girls, I loved to style Barbies' hair. A snip here, a snip there. Sometimes, I would get a little wild and color their blond tresses with blue, red or black markers. That kinda sucked since the marker didn't easily wash out and usually stained the hair. All of my little friends had the Barbie head that came with the powdery makeup. I bet I told my parents how much I wanted one and by accident they picked up the Barbie salon, not knowing. To this day, I have never owned a Barbie hair/makeup head and no, that's not a hint that I want one today.

3. Cocoa the Hamster
In third or fourth grade, I became obsessed with the idea of owning a hamster. I must have seen it on an episode of one of my favorite shows, because in Catholic school, I never had a class pet. You know how schools have that class gerbil and every weekend a different kid gets to take it home? I've actually never experienced that. We had plants instead. After weeks of begging, drawing pictures of mouse-like pets in cages and insisting I would feed and take care of it, my parents took me to a pet store and I soon became the proud owner of Cocoa.



4. Run Yourself Ragged
There was something about this game, Run Yourself Ragged, that I adored! I loved the colorful oranges and greens. I could play it for hours, yet when I look at it now, it's the type of game that seems like after ten minutes, I'd put it on a shelf and never play it again. Snooze, right? But in second grade, I loved Running Myself Ragged. I think it may have been a Christmas gift from a relative.




5. Kabangers
Ah, yet another dumb toy that kept me occupied for hours. I don't know what it was about these rock-hard balls that I loved so very much. The sound of that clacking and the agony of the pain I felt if my finger got caught between them. They were a staple amongst my toys for at least a year or two and were probably the dumbest item I ever owned. I remember standing on my lawn Kabangin' like a fool, what was I thinking?



6. Anything ET, Smurfs, Strawberry Shortcake & Cabbage Patch
'Nuff said, a poster, a shirt, sheets, dolls, stuffed toys, if it was one of the above characters, it was heavenly.


7. Atari
Can't create a list of favorite gifts without old school video game platforms now, can we? Thinking back now, I feel like that was a gift my dad may have bought himself and we took it over. I remember hours spent playing Kaboom, Asteroids, Space Invaders and Pac-man and never being able to figure out how to play ET. Years later as we know, ET had a glitch in it.




8. Popcorn Popper
Man, there was something about receiving a popcorn popper Christmas of '83 that was really exciting to me. I'm not quite sure what it was, but I loved it! I remember inserting half of a block of butter into the slot at the top. I especially enjoyed watching the melting madness go down while freshly popped corn would get stuck in greasy pools of butter trying to make its way to the bowl. Fun times!


9. Retro Pink Sharp Boom Box
One hot electronic item will always have a tender place in my heart. My bubblegum pink '50s style SHARP brand retro style tape player/radio. I'm not sure what the occasion was, but I received it from my parents in 7th grade. I absolutely loved blasting my Monkees tapes on that thing, it was the coolest radio ever! I'd bring it by our pool and enjoy fun in the sun while listening to Tears For Fears and Howard Jones.




10. Colors, The Benetton Perfume
This was the first perfume I ever really NEEDED to have. It wasn't cheap by '80s standard and I remember hinting to my folks for months that I needed to have this perfume. I believe it was Christmas of 1988, I received it. Purchased from the Benetton store, it was beautifully packaged and I wore it sparingly for months as not to waste it.

Happy Birthday/Halloween/Anniversary

Growing up with a November 4th birthday meant many Halloween/Birthday parties. It's weird, I know. I mean, there are all of four days between October 31 and November 4. That's like almost 100 hours. I guess maybe it made sense to my parents if Halloween fell on a Friday or Saturday, to combine two of my favorite holidays. I certainly don't recall complaining back then.

My mom would decorate the living room with orange and black streamers and hang matching balloons in each corner of the ceiling. She'd set up Jack-O-Lanterns outside or in the front window and hang one of those flat scarecrow cutouts on the door - the kind that had movable arms and legs because of how it was fastened together.

I'd spend a month preparing the perfect costume. Looking through photos, I found three Halloween birthday parties as examples. One, I appear to be in third grade, the other fourth or fifth and another I'm in seventh or eighth. It's hard to tell really. Of course, I think I look pretty darn cute. Who didn't back then? There are cute photos of me surrounded by smiling little girlfriends all crouched around a homemade Duncan Hines® chocolate cake. It's hard to imagine that back then, there wasn't a Costco a few towns away who would take your order and create dee-lish baked goods at an affordable price. Nope, in the '80s, it was all about the boxed cake mixes and sugary canned icing - well unless your mom was Mrs. Cleaver or something.



I remember instead of the usual party bag favors, Mom would stuff those little white Halloween themed goody bags with chocolates, a spider ring, a small super bouncy ball and top it off with a tiny pumpkin eraser. She'd often make a few extras "just in case" a kid showed up who neglected to RSVP. Of course I'd keep the extra booty all for myself. Yup, I'd just combine them with my leftover Halloween stash.

When planning our wedding, I knew I wanted a fall wedding. I had wanted a fall wedding back in college when I was dating a guy who had no intention of ever marrying me, but whatever. I remember wanting the Friday after Thanksgiving even back then (always combining my fall events).

When I mentioned this to my family and then fiance - they were against combining the holiday weekend with a wedding. They insisted people would be away visiting their families, etc. When we sat down with our banquet coordinator, sixteen months before our actual wedding date, we were shocked to hear October was booked solid. Apparently the fall is the new summer for weddings. Then again, maybe it was just this particular hall or maybe there are way more fall weddings on Long Island than in New Jersey since everyone else I know who married in New Jersey had no problem securing their November date of choice.

So going through her datebook, our banquet lady pointed out that she only had one available weekend (other than the Thanksgiving Friday) and it happened to be my "birthday weekend" - November 8th. I thought about it for a few minutes. It's kind of nice to get married near your birthday. A funny thought popped into my mind... if I was sitting at a guest table, I'd "win" the centerpiece - if they did that "the person with the closest birthday wins the centerpiece" thing. Just kidding! So I agreed and she joked that my birthday would officially blend in with my anniversary the way December kids get gypped at Christmas. I knew she was right and that day, I mourned the loss of my November 4th birthday.

This year is our one year anniversary and I am to blame for planning a trip to Florida that has us flying out two days after my birthday and unfortunately my husband has a work event the night after my birthday, which happens to fall on a crappy Wednesday this year anyway. Halloween weekend is booked with a party, so I snatched up the day before Halloween. We're going to Atlantic City basically because DH asked me which steakhouse I wanted as the backdrop for my romantic birthday dinner. When I named our local favorite, he actually said, "Come on, how about something different or better?" My ultimate favorite steakhouse is in Atlantic City. He agreed and we're set to go! I can't wait for him to experience it. I went with my mom over the summer and it was so yummy. Expensive, but yummy!

So, no, I can't complain about my birthday getting lost in the shuffle, but I can agree with our wedding banquet chick. 2008 was probably the last real birthday, which was ironically kind of lost due to last minute wedding arrangements. I mean think about it, who is relaxed and has time to plan a party four days before their wedding? Last year, my mom even warned me... "Don't expect any fanfare this year with your wedding four days away!" I believe she followed that warning similar to banquet lady's meaning, kiss that November 4th date goodbye forever, you only get one day to celebrate and I'm quite alright with that. I just wanted to share my story with you guys.



My former BFF Serena and I as we prepared to party at my parent's house before the birthday/Halloween guests arrived in 1985 or 1986.

I'm Running As Fast As I Can

Yesterday on my way to meet my husband for lunch, I passed an elementary school during what must have been gym class. I'm guessing it was gym class by the kids jogging together around the school yard. Dressed in a colorful array of t-shirts, shorts and sweats, they trudged along following each other while a male gym teacher held a clipboard observing them.

The sight brought back depressing memories of horrible years of forced Phys Ed. I know, that schools need to include an hour of physical education every other day because without it, some children may never move a muscle. I get that and I support it. It's just that I remember hating it with a passion. I always hated the butchy, bitchy gym teachers. Oh how I despised them, each and every one of those military like a-holes.

I hated changing out of my clothes in the middle of the day. I hated lacing up my sneakers. I'd break a sweat simply in those few moments it took to disrobe. I hated how in grammar school, the gym teachers would allow the kids to pick team members themselves. I was always picked last. My mother was a teacher and would write letters and send Xeroxed articles about how this would reflect negatively on a kid's self esteem and the feelings would remain with them for years to come. Her efforts were to no avail. Until graduating eight grade, I was picked last. Even if my BFF was selected as team captain, I was still chosen last because she would surely have some idiot yelling in her ear, "Pick David!" or "Pick Kathy S." and "Eddie! Pick Eddie! We need Eddie!"


High school was equally shitty. Oh how I hated Ms. Wagner with her short, stocky body stuffed into tight white shorts and a blue polo shirt. Her plastic looking man 'do coupled with "her" deep voice, made me wanna puke. I loathed the mere sight of her and hated Phys Ed with a passion. And there was no way out. If you strategically forgot your clothes, it counted against your grade. Without a passing grade in gym, you were in danger when it came to graduating.

Oh the memories I have of that awful class. The effin Presidential Fitness Exam which I failed religiously each and every damn year. Running that stupid one mile in ten minutes or whatever regulation set forth by the US government. One year, I actually passed out on the track and was escorted to the nurse's office. I had suffered an asthma attack and couldn't breathe. Oh joy! At least I got to go home early.

Then who could forget the trimester where I actually failed volleyball. My mother inquired with the lovely Ms. Wagner as to how one actually receives an "F" in gym class. It turned out I failed the one quiz given each trimester on the activity assigned. Be it "Dodge Ball, Acquiring The Mandatory Skills Needed To Stay Alive" or "Badminton, The Adventure Behind The Racket," they all sucked with their multiple choice answers and fill-in-the-blanks.

In order to make up for the failed volleyball grade, I was given special permission to study one-on-one with a new gym teacher. Though I can't recall her name, I remember her short curly blond hair and deep alto voice telling me to hustle. The two of us would practice basketball every other day during my lunch period and if she was satisfied with my attitude and demonstrated skill set, the "F" would be lifted and I would indeed graduate high school.

So after sweating it out at lunch for what seemed like an eternity, I was granted a
"B" and on my way to finishing high school. The funny thing is I think after all of that, I was then put into "Adapted Gym." Adapted Gym was basically Phys Ed for the physically inept and it was great! I was finally amongst other chubbers or kindhearted nerds who preferred spending their time in the science lab rather than on a track or ball court. We bonded on loathing jocks and sweat socks. Together, we lifted weights at our own pace and weren't pushed beyond our limits. It was heaven for the physically challenged.

Seeing those kids running around that school yard yesterday really bummed me out. From behind the wheel of my car, I watched sadly as the chubbiest boy tried his best to keep up with his classmates. I knew just how much he must have hated every second of that painful 45 minutes. I wanted to leap from my car and rescue him. Maybe whisk him off for a frozen yogurt and tell him to get it together now before it's too late. I'd warn him about what lies ahead in high school and how even college has dumb physical education requirements.