Ah, the holiday season. First it was Halloween. Well, first it was Thanksgiving, but I understand that not everyone lives in Canuckistan like me, and some isolated places have theirs later, for some reason. So, first it was Halloween.

Or Beltane, if you’re of a wiccan persuasion.

So for some rare few, next comes Thanksgiving. But after that, nothing but shopping till December 25th?

I. Don’t. Think. So.

Into the celebratory void have stepped (silently, stealthily) the Ninjas. Ladies, Gentlemen, and the Great Undecided, December 5th is International Day of the Ninja.

Is your family prepared?

Here are some handy resources that you can implement immediately, should you wish to either ninjafy or attempt to ninja-proof (ha! good luck) your household.

For those anti-ninja fighters, we wish them good luck and provide the Ninja Defense Poster:

But for those of you who are pro-ninja, we equal-opportunity bloggers at TeenyManolo are happy to provide instructions to turn yourself or your children into ninjas using nothing more than an ordinary cotton (please, no poly-cotton blends; play safe, boys and girls) t-shirt. Click to enlarge.

Please note careful, ninja-like attention to detail: they have a Christmas tree in the background to tip you off that it is in DECEMBER, not any other month of the year. If you find yourself inspired, you can always make paper throwing star Christmas ornaments out of extra wrapping paper.

And here’s something for all the Jewish ninjas out there: Jewish origami throwing stars!

May we suggest, for your Ninja mask, an appropriate choice of shirt:

In my Monday Teeny Poll, I included Victoria Beckham as one of the selections for a parental “Needs Improvement” award. Apparently, gentle reader Cristina took issue:

Why is Posh even on the list with open drug-users? Because she wears heels? I mean, come on! It sounds like the second you pop out a baby you have to become a frump… Why not be fabulous? I say down with the fricken sneakers and sweats already, they’re ugly and they’re making us ugly and it’s depressing. Better to be Posh and decked out in green feathers – at least it looks like you tried.

Well, so much for trying to be funny. It seems that the Cult of Posh takes offense quite easily.

Upon further reflection, I have to say that maybe I do have a personal problem with Posh, and that is why I gave her a place on the list.

Every time I see the woman, she is wearing towering heels. Whether it be on the soccer field, at a baseball game, or at the airport, her shoes are a minimum of three inches high. And really, I actually do admire her ability to seemingly walk almost anywhere in shoes like that. If ever Posh’s husband gets fired from his job, she could easily make up the lost revenue by holding classes and sharing her knowledge of how to navigate Disneyland in stilettos. I might even sign up for one myself, because I really want to know.

But when I see her lofty heel choices, I ask myself, when she is out in public, how does she have any spontaneous fun with her boys? Because my son wants to run and play tag with me, not listen to me explain why mommy can’t because her shoes will sink into the grass. I look at the picture above and wonder what would happen if one of her sons asked her to kick around that soccer ball with him.

It seems to me that she places fashion and her image above opportunities to have some fun with her kids. Because kids can find the fun anywhere, anytime. However, the minute my fashion choice means that I can’t climb up the slide with my son because I am afraid I am going to break an ankle, then my priorities are a bit misplaced.

And who said that moms have to be frumpy? I don’t remember saying that, and I don’t believe it either. But I do think that when a mom has had a sleepless night taking care of a baby or sick child, she shouldn’t be judged for choosing the yoga pants over the Versace. And it is certainly possible to look polished and cute while being comfortable and wearing, gasp, flats! There is a time and place for high fashion, no doubt. But balance, my friends, it’s all about the balance. To say that it is couture or nothing at the park playdate certainly smacks of an alternate reality to me.

Although perhaps if my husband was pulling in the millions while never helping his team win any games, I too would be able to have a nanny watch my son for hours while I made sure I looked perfect and every hair was in place whenever I walked out the door.

And as soon as that happens, I promise you, I will be all over the green feather display when I drop my son off at preschool.