There are some things that can ruin a day. My children arguing constantly, Catholic guilt, and plucking hairs out of my chin…just to name a few.

But, some things make me smile. With the holidays approaching, I thought I would share some of my favorite things. It’s like Oprah, only I’m white…and poor. Male readers, either stop here or proceed for gift ideas, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.

1. Wooden teethers and toys from Little Alouette. They are made by hand, by my friend Amy and her husband Joe. No paint, no chemicals…just good ole’ Ohio maple, sanded, and finished with certified organic seed oil. In this day in age, who wants to let their baby chew on anything unnatural? Um…and they’re so cute that I thought about getting one for myself. Really. Here’s my favorite teether. Tell me you wouldn’t want to chew on it!

2. Aveda Hand Relief. I could not get through a winter without it. My husband “surprises” me with some each Christmas. I’m a germophobe and work with second graders, so I wash my hands a lot. If you put this on each night before bed, you’ll never have dry or chapped hands. It works better than any other lotion I’ve tried, and I’ve tried lots.

3. The OPI La Collection de France. I feel classy just saying it. My favorite color is You Don’t Know Jacques!…mostly because it’s fun to ask for at the salon. You can act mean and French, and still get your nails painted.

4. Relax Riesling. One word. Yum.

5. To go with my glass of wine, I need a good book. I recently received a free copy of O’s Big Book of Happiness: The Best of O, The Oprah Magazine: Wisdom, Wit, Advice, Interviews, and Inspiration. It may have the longest title EVER, but it is filled with informative and inspirational articles. And I mean filled. There are over 300 pages of goodness.

6. Mammoth Crocs. Say what you want about what these shoes look like, but I wouldn’t own three pairs if there wasn’t something to them. The Mammoth’s are lined with soft, faux fur to keep your feet warm and they can be kicked off easily when wet, which is a great way to keep kids from dragging slush all around the house. Bonus! Plus, you can throw the shoe and the liner in the washer. Double bonus!

7. My hand-painted butterflies. Most people probably put these in their garden or patio, but I have two of them hanging in my living room. When the gray skies and cold weather get to be too much, I like having them to remind me spring isn’t too far away. I couldn’t find the ones I have, but you can find some other styles here.

Note: Jewish readers please skip to number nine.

8. My pretty, little Milagros Cross. Milagros, which means miracles in Spanish, are used in Mexico and Latin America as symbols of honor, guidance and protection. My sister bought me one like this from a lovely store in northern Ohio, but for those of you who can’t make it to Cleveland, there are plenty of sites on-line that sell Mexican folk art. Muy bonita!

9. Matzoh brie. Looks bad, but tastes good. Just sayin’.

10. My Dyson. Okay, okay. I don’t have one, but a girl can dream, can’t she?

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One of our nieces gave birth to her first child today, and another niece had a baby a couple of weeks ago. Aside from reminding me that I am old enough to be a great-aunt, these brand new babies bring back memories of when my children were newborns.

You know? Those times when I got no sleep. Those times when I walked around with circles of milk on the front of my shirt, spit-up on my shoulder, and my hair unwashed most of the time. Ah…good times, good times.

When my son was born, my daughter attended a preschool where dismissal was a nightmare. Crowds of moms, kids, strollers, and toddlers, all confined in a five foot wide hallway. The only nice thing, was that there was literally no room for small talk. I felt safe picking up my daughter looking unkempt.

But one day when I arrived without make-up, in my husband’s sweatpants, an over-sized sweatshirt, and a hat to hide my greasy head, all the moms in that hallway turned to greet me with uproarious laughter.

I looked bad, but I didn’t look that bad. I quickly peeked down to see if I had bodily fluids on my shirt, but realized I was all clean. Baggy maybe, but not dirty. Though I certainly wasn’t in any condition for “all eyes on me”.

As I approached the door to the classroom, I found out why I was so popular. The roughly 60 year-old teacher had taped up a piece of paper with, “How old is Mrs. H?” printed on top. Underneath, there was a list of the kids’ names and their best guess at their teacher’s age.

Most kids guessed 40, some 50, and one even guessed 92.

But, my daughter? Well, she apparently didn’t care what I looked like, or whether she would draw attention to her frumpy mom, when she said her teacher was 100,000 years old.

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On today’s Oprah, Dr. Oz stopped by to discuss his new book, You: Being Beautiful.

Dr. Oz brought along Harvard-educated dermatologist, Dr. Susan Evans. Who also happens to be the most beautiful woman in the world.

Dr. Evans pulled women from the audience, who were concerned about wrinkles, sun spots and adult acne. None of them wore make-up so that Dr. Evans could put their faces inside the Visia Skin Analysis machine, which shows underlying skin problems. Way underlying. Here’s where Dr. Oz tells a woman how beautiful she is, as the deep damage to her skin is shown on a 20 foot wide screen in the background. I’m sure she felt lovely.

This is Geri’s foot. Geri has a fungal infection, which Dr. Oz says is easily cured with a pill. The only problem with that? The pill can cause liver failure. Hmmm…pretty toes or liver failure? Seems to be a toss up. Dr. Oz suggests to skip the pill and to instead soak the fungal feet in vinegar. Because feet that smell like vinegar are much more pleasant to be around.

Here Dr. Oz explains cellulite, which he says is incurable. This is just what I wanted to hear, exactly not at all. Then Dr. Oz showed the audience the expanse of my rear end.

In a nutshell, Dr. Oz wants us to know that what’s on the outside is evidence of what’s on the inside. In which case, I apparently resemble a Butterfinger.

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This is a glimpse of how a family manages to get through a bout of the plague. I highly recommend keeping these suggestions in a mental file.

Here is said family’s recycle bin. Note how Mom and Dad deal with stress by drinking cheap beer and large quantities of wine. Oh, and see the Mueslix box? That’s what happens when you haven’t been to the store in over a week and want to make Magic Wheaties Meatloaf, but after you’ve started mixing ingredients together you realize there isn’t a Wheatie to be found.

If your substitute choices are Kix or Mueslix, go with the Mueslix. It’s a good alternative, but you will have to take some time to pick out the raisins.

This is what happens when a six year old plague victim gets tired of playing with his Matchbox cars. He makes stick figures out of the track. Don’t be alarmed when he tears it apart limb from limb.

These are bath toys, and because Mom’s tend to make plague victims bathe a lot, these toys get frequent attention. If the victim happens to name them…oh say, Jessie, Jessley, and Jorley. I highly suggest knowing those names, which one is which, and be able to make up some great stories about the three of them on the spot. Because a soaking-wet, tired, rash-covered, feverish, projectile pooping kid tends to be a little sensitive.

Get used to running out of clean clothes. It’s okay. There is absolutely nothing wrong with sending your daughter to bed with plaid pajama bottoms and a camouflage top, and putting your son down for the night in fire engine pants and a green, dinosaur shirt. No one can tell they don’t match in the dark.

And finally, about that laundry…if you wear a zip-up sweatshirt to pick up your daughter at school, and you don’t have a clean shirt to wear under it, make sure the plague victim you’re holding doesn’t pull your zipper down. Just sayin’.

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