In a rather depressing way, I've come to one possible reason for Santa's avocation of gifting children with toys. I'm not saying it's hir reason, or even a valid one.

Let me take a step back. This week, I modified an origami paper airplane model to the point I am proud of it. When I get home, I'll post pictured of it on PhotoBucket and brag.

Those of you long-suffering readers know that I am plagued with lack of confidence, so for me to say something is good, then it's really good. :)

This jet plane model is really good. It's so good, I don't think I can find fault with the model. With individual attempts, sure. But not the design itself. When done right, the result is stunning.

This week (thus far) has also been marked by a dramatic decline in my mother's emotional health. She has gone from being slightly nasty and sometimes confused about her setting, place and / or time, to basically psychosis.

She's attacked her nursing home roommate. She's attacked her caregivers. The nursing home tranferred her to the hospital, and the hospital will transfer her to the psychiatric department as sson as a bed becomes available.

In the meanwhile, she has to have a nurse by her bedside day and night, else she wander off. During her worst fits, she has been restrained to the bed. She's not eating or drinking. It goes without saying she is refusing medication as well.

She's also started to not recognize people. Her neice is the primary medical power of attorney. She lives less than an hour away. My mom no longer recognizes her neice's husband. She needed prompting to remember her neice's son.

I don't want Kitten to remember her grandma saying, "Granddaughter? I don't have a granddaughter." (Thanks to a dear friend for warning me against this painful possibility.) Unless my mother makes a medical-journal-worthy recovery, I'm afraid Kitten will not see her grandma again.

Speaking Kitten brings me back to this post's subject. I make origami sculptures when I'm stressed. Needless to say, I've been stressed these past few days. I've been making that paper airplane model non-stop.

When I'm done, that piece of paper is useless to me. I need a new sheet to keep my hands busy, my mind blank. So, I give the model away to the first interested party. Kitten calls me, "the origami jet plane Santa Claus."

Thus, my opening statement. I make the jet planes because I'm stressed. Once done, I take some small but precious joy in the look of wonder on the recipient's face. It's not enough, but it helps a tiny bit, so I make another. If I'm lucky, I give that one away, too.

I wonder how many of the recipients can sense the sadness that goes into each model?