Have you been inundated with toy catalogs too?  This is nuts.

Everyday we get one or more toy catalogs in the mail.  The kids drool over them, fight over them and do the happy dance when they see them, just like me when I get a Cook's Illustrated or Food & Wine, Gourmet, Bon Appetit, etc...

After they have decided who gets to look at it first (this can take hours), or on one of the lucky days when we get more than one catalog and the kids don't have to fight, kick and scream over them ... they diligently sit down with a Crayola marker, a pen they stole from me, or heaven forbid a rudimentary crayon, and begin to circle the toys they truly believe they cannot live without.

The marketers and advertisers succeed - but I've got the final say here.

"You guys do know you won't be getting everything you circle, right?"

"What Momma?"  They can hardly hear me, they are so intently dreaming of the playthings laid out so prettily in the catalogs before them.

Where did they learn this behavior?

Say no more.

Yes, it can be traced back to me.  I have a manila file folder next to my address book, and in Sharpie fine-point-navy-blue-ink, MOTIVATION is handwritten on the tab.  I started this file years ago to light a fire under my literary ambition.  And in it, there are clippings from the following catalogs and magazines...

Pottery Barn Kids * Coastal Living * Travel & Leisure

Clippings of beach homes, beach decor, outdoor showers next to infinity pools with Sago palms abound, sailboat shaped trundle beds, sailboat themed bath tubs, sheets for the girls with sweet peas and castles, articles about Positano, Italy, and paint swatches from the home improvement store in every degree of periwinkle.

I want it all.

Who knows if I'll ever get it?  Here is what's important...I can close the catalogs and put them away, even toss them in the recycling, and re-direct my heart's desire.  It sure has taken long enough.

And I could be wrong but I think my kids have adapted this behavior as well...when Poppa comes home, when they hear the garage door open up, those marker and crayon battered toy catalogs fall to the floor, are pushed beneath the couch with the force of children's feet eager to  kick a soccer ball, so worn it doesn't have any recognizable markings.

The place between covet and cherish is where you'll find me clutching pink gingham, the kids reaching for extravagant ride-ons...drooling. (If you heard Dave Matthews in there, you're right).

It can be argued that transportation to dreamland is faster and cushier on high thread count sheets.  But can you still dream on 180?  Well, that's how I got here.

A very wise man once wrote "What you don't have, you don't need it now."

He was so right.