I have a confession to make. I’m a Shopper. For most of the year I pretend to be a Guy’s Girl, a rare woman who Hates to Shop, who will wear out her 80’s clothes before setting foot in the dressing room. I can usually pull that off until the Holiday Season. All bets are off come December. I love the little packages of stocking-stuffers and the gift-sets of toothpaste and loofahs. I live for the 4.98 fleece throw, conveniently wrapped in its sheath of elastic and Velcro; I can envision it stowed neatly in my Pottery Barn fabric-lined storage basket until that brisk winter evening when I just can’t get warmed up.

I love the last-minute sales- 75% off! Key chains with clappers! Specially insulated highball glasses! Olive trays! Gourmet Hot Chocolate sets with matching stoneware mugs! If you wait until Christmas Eve to shop, all this stuff will be so cheap it’s a SIN not to buy it. My favorite part is choosing the lucky recipient. See, I am filled with the Spirit of Giving, but plagued with a tiny recipient list. In Our Family, X-mess is about the CHILDREN. And kids toys? Not 75% off, ever. I will never be able to afford a gift for any child I know that can compete with the super-mega haul that Santa will bring. So this year, we made stuff. For the last several years, actually, we’ve tried to be as crunchy as possible, and put some real heart into our gifts. One year, we made baskets that contained 5 different crafts that we constructed on five Saturdays with my good friend Dayna. We sewed scarves, made candles, bath salts, CD’s, and apple butter. On the sixth Saturday, we put together baskets and bags for our friends and family.

When I moved to California 6 months later, I would occasionally notice one of our gifts unopened and forgotten in the back of someone’s pantry or under the sink in a guest bathroom.

Last year, I ordered 4 pounds of organic fair trade green coffee, and roasted small batches by hand. We made eye pillows filled with flax seeds and scented with real dried lavender and essential oils. We spent countless hours compiling Mix CDs for our friends. I made ouchie pillows for little kids, filled with rice and scented lavender/eucalyptus oils, designed to be stored in the freezer and used when a Little Person has a need for a cool bit of loving attention. I made a huge batch of Apple Butter, but this time I only sent it to people I really thought might eat it. I handed out tiny loaves of Orange Cranberry bread, batches of homemade gingerbread cookies, and sour-cream-banana-bread.

I can’t divulge this year’s Project List, obviously. But it’s a big one. I started early so that I could have December to really truly enjoy the holiday. We spent what we were going to spend on gifts and craft supplies in small spurts throughout the year, aiming to keep ourselves totally credit-debt-free until after we close on our home loan. I budgeted for postage. I bartered with a web client for product, which takes care of several people on our list.

But in the end, I just want to take that red-hot credit card right down to the Super Big Mart and load up my cart with fleece throws and box sets of Lost and little Dr Pepper flavored lip glosses. I ACHE to browse the holiday clearance aisle at Old Navy, and to push a racecar stroller through the mall and into the crowded maze of racks at Claire’s and Icing (10 things for 5 dollars? Are they CRAZY?). I can taste the Cinnabon and Vanilla Latte I’d treat myself to after my totally healthy lunch at Hovan. I have the fever. I want to watch the pets sitting on Santa’s Lap. The cell phone cover kiosk seduces me, and I almost have TeenHer talked into getting her ears pierced at the piercing Pagoda.

‘Tis the Season. I might look crunchy on the outside, but underneath I am all sensible shoes, wallet-purse and gift-with-purchase.