One of the things I've learned, but somehow keep forgetting, is that the best-laid plans are at risk of imploding. That's especially true at the holidays when things are scheduled to the milli-second, to the last piece of cookie dough, to the final gift tag, to that one last  calendar entry. It's a time when we especially want things to go perfectly, even if they don't come close the rest of the year.

A day before Christmas, my sister and her family arrived here from Chicago. I expected them in the afternoon so I had the morning to run those final errands. I got home at 12:05, five minutes later than I'd scheduled, to begin cooking -- a final batch of cookies, the first of two coffee cakes, entrees for the Christmas morning brunch, a fruit tray for later in the day. They arrived slightly later than expected, but that gave me a few minutes of extra kitchen time. But moments after they began sticking package after wrapped package under the Christmas tree, my sister pointed out that my dog was sick. And so she was -- in the living room, the hallway, the entrance way and the dining room. That was my sister's family's cue to skedaddle to my brothers' house in Lititz. I was left cleaning the carpets and floors for the next hour. Not how I planned things.

Christmas Day I was scheduled to work at my job. But before heading in at 12:30, I hosted a Christmas brunch for 12. All went well. Until about an hour and a half after I arrived at work. My sister called to say that she was in the emergency room with my dad, who would end up being hospitalized for five days and miss Christmas night activities and the big family gathering Dec. 26. Health problems were not part of the plan. Then came the snow, which nearly, but did not, upend other scheduled events. Not how I'd planned things.

Which brings me to my one New Year's resolution: to no longer be a slave to my itinerary.  As somebody once said if you want God to laugh, tell him about your plans.

Christmas is nine days away: How are you faring? Made the cookies? Wrapped the gifts? Planned the Christmas dinner? What about Christmas Eve? Cards? Housecleaning? Teacher gifts?  I'm trying to follow my own advice of taking it all in stride, smiling a lot -- even if through clenched teeth -- and succumbing to an occasional glass of wine, or morsel of chocolate, to keep myself together. I must admit, I'm doing better this season than in years past and I haven't even pulled any all-nighters. An achievement. But this morning, not such a good one. I'm feeling very frazzled, though it was the day this week I managed to leave home with my keys, my phone, my wallet and my to-do list in tow. Another achievement.! Right now, my biggest concern is the state of my home: a disaster! And relatives from Chicago arrive next week. But I'll take it one floor and sink at a time -- and do it with Christmas music playing in the background. And you can be sure, I'll cut more than a few corners. As Erma Bombeck wrote, "Housework, if you do it right, will kill you!''

My daughter and I watched part of Oprah's "Ultimate Favorite Things'' show on Monday. It was the second of back-to-back giveaways, and the last of her talk-show TV run. If you've never seen it, Oprah talks about the things she loves -- everything from a basil keeper to a Coach purse to a Pottery Barn jewelry box holding diamond earrings to, yes, even a Volkswagen Beetle -- and then presents every audience member with one of each item. As in, a basil keeper, the diamond earrings, the purse and the car ... and much, much more.

The audience goes wild and, several times on Monday, I could barely watch. Mostly because I wanted to be in Chicago at that show receiving those same gifts. I was jealous. Big time. Then my daughter pipes up: "Mom, wouldn't it be great to be there?! You know, to give away all of those gifts?''

Oh my gosh! Instantly, I felt very small and selfish. My daughter had the right idea, and certainly without any prodding from me. I was focusing on the receiving, my 11-year-old on the giving. It's not that it wouldn't be fun to get some gifts, she confided later, but imagine giving so much away. Lesson learned, just in time for Thanksgiving! 

I'm on vacation from work this week, and have been fortunate to spend some time volunteering at my child's school. That's where I was much of today. And I'm glad for it because, once again, I learned something from our kids.

About 15 minutes after the start of the school day, there was a fire drill. It was Friday. Early dismissal. The book fair shelves and displays were still adorning the main hallway, where they remained a tempting diversion for young eyes (and hands).

But when the alarm rang, those kids had a job to do and nothing got in their way. I'm talking 5-year-olds and those readying for middle school. They were up. Quiet. Out the door in orderly single file. They waited on and around the playground for instructions from their principal, and teachers, before reentering the building. It was a sight to behold. I remain impressed.

They take direction better than most adults, I said to the building secretary. And I wasn't kidding.

Just minutes earlier, and on most mornings (and afternoons), the dropoff and pickup lines at schools across Lancaster County are a traffic jam of SUVs and minivans. It can get hairy. And while parents, grandparents and other seemingly able adults have been told (and told and told) the rules, there are always those who can't (won't) follow them -- and in some cases put the safety of children at risk. Unlike their children who understand how their conduct and demeanor could affect their own welfare and that of others, adults can serve as pretty disappointing examples. 

So I'm suggesting that grownups take a cue from our kids. Maybe observe a fire drill or two. And put those lessons to use when we're behind the steering wheels in idling cars, and tempted to swerve around the two vehicles ahead of us because we want to get back home two minutes sooner. Probably not worth the risk, our wise kids would tell us.

I worked at the LancMoms.com both at the Baby and Toddler Expo most of Friday. Great time! Lots of parents, grandparents and, of course, babys and toddlers. There were hot dogs, subs, ice cream and other foods to be sampled, not to mention dozens of displays that tout everything from alpacas to consignment clothing to children's health to makeup and massages for mom (and dad)! Bob and Larry of Veggie Tales fame strolled through the crowd as did several mascots including Cylo. There was plenty of entertainment, and contests and lots of giveaways to boot! But the best part of the day was the people -- vendors and participants alike. A great crowd! If you didn't make it today, get down to the Lancaster County Convention Center on South Queen Street tomorrow (Oct. 30.) The Expo runs 9 a.m-6 p.m.!

My daughter's mind is made up: no more viola. It's a sad day for me, because I wanted her to continue and was hoping time would prompt her to do just that. But she has fulfilled her end of our bargain -- to finish her commitment to a second year --  and so, the viola case is closed.

I believe it's very important for children to have a music background. I know it will serve them well through school, and the rest of their lives. I wanted my daughter to not only appreciate music, but to read it, to play it, to feel it and to embrace it.

In second grade, she started piano lessons ... just like I did when I was that age and, believe it or not, with my first piano teacher.  But unlike my situation, the piano's appeal lasted only so long. What I stuck with through high school, she was done with by fourth grade. We made a deal that she complete the year before quitting but, on reflection, I'm not sure it was a wise move. Getting her to practice took nothing short of calling in the National Guard. Usually, it was accompanied by threats (mine) and tears (hers and sometimes mine). So what started as a pleasant adventure into the world of whole notes and scales and sheet music became nothing more than a horrific chore.

When she showed interest in the viola, I was thrilled. I'd played strings when I was younger, and thought that maybe the viola, not the piano, was her true musical calling. But by the second year of lessons, she wanted to stop. I pushed on. Surely, in time, she would find the joy I knew in instrumental music. But once again, the practicing became a grueling chore. She simply lacked the interest. But I held out hope when both her viola and music teachers encouraged her to continue, lauding her talents. But alas, it was to no avail. So she has put down the bow for a final time.

My daughter says she doesn't want to play viola because she doesn't like to practice. But that's not really true. She's diligent about her homework. The ballerina in her is never too tired to rehearse pirouettes at home.  Never does she complain about a "Nutcracker'' rehearsal or a dance class; rather, she is eager to get there. She is passionate about art and reading. She can't get enough.

I suppose the lesson here is more mine, than hers. I want her to play the piano. I want her to pratice the viola. And, I think if we were both honest, we know that she stuck with the instruments as long as she did because I wanted her to -- and she didn't want to disappoint me. Funny how we parents want our chess players to be football standouts, our soccer players to be thespians, our swimmers to play lacrosse. So I guess I'll let her be free to be who she is and if I can't let go of the viola, maybe I'm the one who should start the lessons.

If you've never been to Harvest Days at Landis Valley Museum, mark your calendars. It's Saturday and Sunday, Oct. 9 and 10, at the museum adjacent to Hands-on House at 2451 Kissel Hill Road. It's a wonderful family adventure; better yet, it's couldn't come at a better  time of year.

My daughter and I were recently reminiscing about how much she enjoyed picking out her own jack-o'-lantern -- especially when she was younger. But there's much more than that. There is food, music and wagon rides. In addition, you can be part of early Pennsylvania German life by taking in demonstrations on blacksmithing, dyeing wool, chair caning, broom-making, and bookbinding. But that's not all. There is also apple butter boiling -- yum! -- and hearth and bake-oven cooking.

One of our favorite stops has always been the children's tent where there are hands-on activities for little ones that include crafts, and to which my daughter has devoted hours of her time over successive autumns. Harvest Days is open 11 a.m.-5 p.m. Cost is $12 for adults, $10 for seniors and $8 for youth, 6-11. Children age 5 and under are admitted free of charge. For more, visit www.landisvalleymuseum.org .

You'll love it!

As I was preparing dinner the other evening, I heard a gasp in the dining room. The kind of sound that comes when someone comes face to web with a giant spider, crashes her bike into the mailbox, or catches a pinkie in the car door. My heart skipped a beat as I rushed into the dining room, where my daughter, clearly overcome with shock, read aloud the words of the catalog she was holding. "They're retiring Felicity!!'' she gasped.

OK, it was a bigtime overreaction, but once I put down the first-aid kit and scolded her for scaring the heck out of me, we quietly flipped through the pages together.

By "they'' she meant American Girl, the company that's made millions upon millions through the sale of dolls representing various periods of our country's history along with their extensive accouterments. And I mean extensive! There are also "Just Like Me'' contemporary dolls that resemble the little girls who play with them as well as books, videos, children's clothing, beach towels, games, accessories -- you name it, they've got it. We've enjoyed a stage show and afternoon tea at the AG restaurant in Chicago and, just last month, took in brunch at the Fifth Avenue store in New York City. It is, indeed, doll heaven on earth! (In November, Hands-on House Children's Museum will once again stage its American Girl fashion show fundraiser; we've attended twice! Check it out at www.handsonhouse.org .)

Over the years, my daughter has amassed several of these dolls -- something I said would never happen. These are pricey playthings, that have come her way thanks to Santa, grandparents and aunts and uncles. And the announcement of Felicity Merriman's departure, along with that of her American Revolution-era friend Elizabeth, still gives gift-givers time to snatch up what's left of these dolls in anticipation of the holidays. And snatch they will.

I was sad when I learned that Felicity was going the way of Samantha, an early-19th century doll who was retired a few years ago. Partly because Felicity was among the first in this long line of dolls. But partly because my daughter's once-obsessive interest in these 18-inch friends -- let's just say we got our money's worth -- is retiring as well, leaving us with hatboxes stuffed full of small coats and shoes that serve as reminders of hours upon hours spent together. Playtime that began with the dolls eventually pushed our imaginations beyond their limits -- empty boxes turned into furniture adorned with tissue blankets. You know how that goes.

Thanks for the memories, Felicity!   

Over the weekend my daughter lost another molar. It wasn't actually lost; she pulled it herself and the tooth came out neatly in her right hand. This is one parenting job my daughter has spared me -- and I am sooooo thankful to her for it! Over the years, I've been at the ready to handle any parenting task, no matter how glorious or gory. And I still am. But the whole tooth-pulling thing really sends me into orbit. Weird, but true. Fortunately, she's had help and guidance from her grandfather and Aunt Sheila. And it's during these times that I am more than happy to retire to another room -- in a neighbor's house.

Ehow.com offers tips for kids and parents. So for those of you who might be at loose ends over pulling teeth, here is its advice.

1. Be sure your child washes his hands thoroughly with antibacterial soap to remove as many germs as possible before he sticks his fingers into his mouth. Then he is ready to begin to try to pull out the loose tooth.

2. Wiggle the loose tooth back and forth. Do this over and over again until the tooth is as loose as possible.

3. Try pulling the tooth upward and out with your fingers. If it refuses to budge, repeat Step Two. If the tooth is extremely loose, you should be able to remove it without a problem.

4. Try eating an apple with the loose tooth. This will sometimes jerk the tooth loose from the gum.

5. Let an adult try to pull the tooth. (Uh-oh, count me out on No. 5.) If the child experiences pain, it is a good idea to wait until it becomes a little looser or let time take care of it -- when the tooth is ready to come out, it will.

6. Put pressure on the bleeding gums with a towel or gauze pad once the tooth is removed to stop the bleeding. Have your child lean slightly forward to avoid swallowing blood which could upset the stomach.

7. Help your child put his tooth under his bed pillow so the tooth fairy can find it easily.

Thank goodness for No. 7, the one part of this whole ordeal at which I excel!

Here I sit, on the eve of yet another school year. It should feel familiar to me by now. My daughter's room has been thinned of old books and paper trash and clothes that are too small -- all to make way for that which will be exciting and new on Monday. At least, for her.

But nothing about this year feels comfortable for me. I am struggling this time around, even more than the morning I put her on the bus bound for her first day of kindergarten. I still remember her warning as she climbed the bus steps: "Remember what the principal said, Mommy. Don't follow the bus. The driver calls the police when she sees someone behind her who shouldn't be there.'' I obeyed -- kind of -- hurrying instead to meet the bus at school to make sure she and her Dora the Explorer backpack arrived safely and happily. Which, of course, they did.

Every first day of school since I wait for her bus outside the front door, near the flagpole, and take a picture. This will be the seventh round for our tradition, which she has grown to tolerate with a smile. And I love her for that! But this is the last year of elementary school, which reminds me yet again that my daughter is growing up.

As I drive myself to school on Monday I'll wonder, once again, where the time has gone. Why the tick of the clock seems to quicken with each passing year. And hopefully remembering, as I reluctantly let her go, that the present is indeed a gift worth savoring.