Now that I am in anticipatory mood for the Thanksgiving holiday, I have a confession to make. I’m also getting ready for the other big holiday coming up. And I have officially started on my annual Christmas craft.
And you won’t believe what I am starting with. . . a box.
Ahh . . . but looks can be deceiving. This is actually a set of nesting boxes.
These will become the core of my newest project.
I used some ribbon purchased at one of my favorite stores, Target. Yes, I was suckered in by the huge Christmas display already out. And shocker of shockers, they were even playing Christmas carols when I got there which only added to my shopping frenzy.
On yet another recent shopping foray, I picked up these mini-ornaments from Ikea. Another one of my favorite stores.
The final ingredient in this Christmas recipe are buttons. Lots and lots of buttons. I just happened to have these in my scrapbooking supplies.
For your first step, you are going to attach your buttons to the tops of the nesting boxes. I used mini Glue Dots that you can get at any craft store.
Pardon the black polish. I am trying to get my girl to stop biting her nails and she requested I paint her nails black. So in a show of solidarity, I painted my nails as well.
Now, some people might prefer to plan out how the buttons are to be attached to the lids. I’m a fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants person when it comes to things like this so I just slap them up there with no plan whatsoever.
Then while adhering the many, many buttons, accept help from your six year hold child in applying the adhesive.
Once you have the buttons all stuck on the boxes, you only have one last thing to assemble before finishing it all up.
String all those tiny little ornaments on a small ribbon and tie off into a semblance of a ball-like shape. Now you are ready to finish things up.
Basically, you will stack up the three boxes on top of each other then wrap them in the ribbon of choice. Just like you would wrap the ribbon around a gift-wrapped present.
Then you top off your ribbon and bow with your cluster of ornaments and viola!
You have a very cute decorative addition to your holiday.
The best part of this holiday craft assembly was the serenade my boy gave me while I was working. He was singing some funky version of “Deck the Halls” mashed up with the Batman Smells version of “Jingle Bells.” Maybe not the most conventional rendition but definitely the most creative.
And I have no idea what that string is doing on his head.
Now if only I could get the rest of my holiday mess taken care of and all wrapped up in a pretty little bow.
This picture is a classic.
And it was not taken by me.
It was taken by one of my much, much younger cousins. It was from our last Thanksgiving trip to the beach almost two years ago. This was also the first fish my boy ever caught. He was pleased as punch.
And the reason why I am dredging up the past is that we are returning to the beach for Thanksgiving this year and I cannot wait. Literally, two weeks from today, at exactly this time (around 9 p.m.), it is my hope that we will be pulling into the driveway of the beach house.
I am completely and utterly in need of such a vacation. Things have just not been going my way. In addition to the catapult debacle, my kids have chosen this week to completely ignore most everything I say. This has unfortunately resulted in me doing a lot of yelling. Even more that my sweet little nieces accuse me of usually.
Then, it appears Brando, that deceptively sweet little demon that we rescued, has become possessed. In just the last two days alone, he has mangled the antennae on our ancient cordless phone. Which I suppose I should look at positively as Sarge may just allow the purchase of a new phone now. In addition to the phone, Brando has officially chewed through my vacuum cleaner’s power cord. The miraculous Dyson I bought to handle the lice outbreak we suffered from awhile ago. This means no vacuuming until it’s fixed. Now, this should be something I could also put another positive spin on but with a dog in the house, one just does not want to delay the vacuuming too much.
All these things combined with the copious amount of rain we have received today as part of the aftereffects of Hurricane Ida just show how absolutely desperate I am for a little getaway.
Alas, I have to wait two weeks.
It’s going to be tough.
Maybe even tougher than childbirth.
This is actually a photo of my sister but the camera and the action that goes with a camera help provide a perfect introduction to my story for the night.
Our dinner conversation topics have been extremely varied and quite interesting now that Sarge is home with us in the evening.
A perfect example–tonight.
As we’re eating, we’re also discussing war. My girl asks what it is and her genius brother answers with the following statement “Well, it’s when people keep shooting at each other until there is only one person left. And that’s the winner.”
That could be one way of looking at it.
It then segues into a discussion about previous wars, like the Civil War. My girl apparently has studied this war at sometime in her educational past. So I mentioned the Mason-Dixon line as a geographical dividing line during that war.
And my boy asks “Who is Mason Dixon?” My girl replies (with a tone of Duh, don’t you know anything?) “He was a man.”
His response to this was “Oh, yeah, the one going for world domination.”
Apparently, we have let him watch the Discovery Channel just a wee bit too much. Or is it the History Channel? Whichever one does all those conspiracy shows on the Free Masons which invariably includes one of the many conspiracy theories out there that states they will eventually take over the world.
Isn’t it just absolutely amazing what one can learn from television?
After laughing quite a bit at this little gem, we continue on with our crazy conversation. But I have forgotten the best moment of the night.
Sarge, while trying to educate our young’uns on war, totaly blows me away by quoting Sun Tzu. Apparently, he supposedly authored The Art of War. Who knew I married such a widely read man? Anyway, he paraphrases the quote below to our children.
For to win one hundred victories in one hundred battles is not the acme of skill. To subdue the enemy without fighting is the acme of skill. ~Sun Tzu
To which my son replies “Yes, and always carry stinky socks.”
I have found my new mantra, my new philosophy when dealing with adversity.
I couldn’t be more proud. As Sarge said, we have a warrior poet on our hands.
Autumn is my favorite season of the year. I love the vibrant colors, the visible signs signaling the change of the seasons, the crispness to the air as the overbearing humidity vacates for a few months, and the clothes. O, how I love the clothes, the sweaters. the fleece, and all things snuggly.
But today was . . . well, I’m not so sure.
It should have been a landmark day. First there was the absolute gorgeousness of the weather along with the fact that this divine gift of a sunny day fell on a Sunday, a non-working day. Add in that we only had one commitment provided an excellent set-up. Sarge was gone to a pro-football game all day but that should not have put a damper on the good times the kids and I could have in each other’s company.
It seemed though that our stars were not aligned today. My kids could not get along for the life of me. Then, they could not agree on what they wanted to do. My girl wanted to be out and about and my boy wanted to take the homebody route. This general disagreement culminated in what could have been a disastrous event. Brought about, quite ironically, by the two of them actually working together.
Late in the day, my boy and I went to pick up my girl at her girl scout meeting. One of the activities for the meeting was an obstacle course. One of the obstacles was similar to a mini-seesaw. It was more like a very long two by four resting on a rock that made the piece of wood tip back and forth. Anway, these two brilliant brainchildren of mine had the stellar idea of having my boy stand on one end while my girl jumped on the other. Resulting in him catapulting to goodness knows where.
I happened to walk outside right at the critical moment of the jump. While simultaneously screaming “NO!” I immediately began running up the hill to where they were. As I watched my boy go flying into the air a good three feet higher than he was tall, I just about lost it. Then, he smacked the board on his back and I just had horrible visions of the many ways in which he could now be hurt. Luckily, he immediately got up, he was crying but moving none the less.
That’s when I started screaming. And my girl screamed back “Well, he asked me too.” Which kept me going as nothing fuels a motherly tirade like being (a) talked back to and (b) seeing your child take absolutely no responsibility for her actions. So I immediately dragged my kids out of the meeting and once we dropped off the extra child I had to return home, I gave my kids the full blast of my temper.
I tried to explain why I was so angry and to let them know it was mostly out of fear of my boy being seriously hurt that made me so upset. While the whole debacle was unfolding, I had had the feeling that this could have been a re-run of the sledding incident.
The truly odd (but weirdly funny) thing about it all was that neither of my kids could tell their father, without copious crying and sobbing, what had happened.
Such is the life of the mother.
I’ve had my laptop computer for two years and a month. We previously had one of those dinosaur-like computers with the tower and the ginormous monitor. When it died, we went quite awhile without anything. Then, I finally made my wish of getting a Mac come true.
Anyway, my kids have been enamored of my computer ever since then. So has Sarge, much to my chagrin.
Tonight while I was cleaning things up and transferring my thousands of photos to my hard drive, I found the following gems.
This is not the first time this has happened.
There’s even a picture with me in the background and I can honestly say I have no recollection of this.
I seriously have to doubt all of my family’s sanity when I encounter these things.
The even scarier better thing is that this excellent portrait is from our summer beach trip in July. That was over three months ago. And I’m just finding it now. Truly, I think things might be hopeless here.
Because when you discover a self portrait of your son pretending to be some odd facsimile of a Jedi Knight, or worse, Darth Vader, it’s over, people.
Plain, flat out over.
I’ve mentioned before what a big fan I am of PostSecret.
And Frank Warren, the brilliant person behind this magnificent idea/phenomena, just put out a new book, Confessions on Life, Death and God.
I haven’t gotten it yet but I am totally looking forward to diving into it. Hopefully soon too but I need to finish my other book first.
Anyway, this week on the PostSecret blog, there are two postcards that have literally made my week.
And I want to share them with you. So maybe you can be lifted up as well.
Things like this speak to me. I may be a short term pessimist but I am definitely a long term optimist.
We all need our own kind of inspiration.
Here’s to finding what lights up your life . . .
I am so displeased with myself right now.
I have read all the books in the Outlander series by Diana Gabaldon. To put it as succinctly as possible, I have absolutely loved them. I even entertained naming my son “Jamie” after one of the main characters of the series. Sarge quickly put a stop to that one as he has some strange obsession with naming the nine pound behemoths I birthed all by himself.
Anyway, the most recent installment, the sixth book An Echo in the Bone, came out on September 21. Brilliant me reserved the book from the library very, very early so I was the sixth person on the waiting list. This meant I got to pick up the book only a day after its release. I was beside myself with excitement.
The only drawback is that the book is 814 pages long.
With very small print.
And words that I have had to look up on the computer because I didn’t know what they mean.
Fortunately, right before I had to turn the original book back into the library, I was able to check out another copy.
Because, seriously people, this author writes that well. Her books, her characters, her attention to detail, basically, everything is so utterly engaging for the reader.
Oddly enough, even though I have now had the book(s) for six weeks, I am still only halfway through it. And its due date was October 29. So I keep holding onto it, hoping against all hope that I will finish it shortly. But it just hasn’t happened yet. And I’m getting mad at myself. Because I am thoroughly enjoying the book. I just can’t seem to find the time to sit down and read. The truly bad thing is now I am having to pay $.20 a day for each day the book is overdue.
UGH–this is such a moral dilemma.
I am so in need of a vacation just so I can read. Without interruptions.
This whole job thing, all this parenting nonsense, and the sheer enormity of housework are holding me back from thoroughly escaping reality.
Nothing wrong with a little escapism. I guess my only option is to somehow become independently wealthy.
Not the horror movie kind of monsters here. We’re talking the overly-hyperactive and completely-stoked-out-on-sugar monsters.
For Halloween this year, my boy was Bobba Fett from Star Wars and my girl was a deranged ballerina.
The deranged ballerina idea was all hers too. And I have to admit, we had pretty good execution on her whole novel costume concept.
Sarge’s mom helped make an ordinary sweatshirt into a straight jacket and her trusty mother made the tutu.
Then there was my boy. His costume had the two main requirements that he really, really, really wanted. He got to carry a gun.
And he got to wear a mask.
Who know poor ole Bobba Fett had his nose all squished up in his helmut for all those Star Wars movies?
But I got to tell you, both that helmut and that gun lasted through all of maybe ten houses, Lucky me got to then carry it around. Along with two umbrellas and an extra bag that my kids kept dumping candy into so their pumpkins didn’t get too heavy. Poor little buggers. To have such a problem.
But our Halloween wouldn’t be complete if we didn’t make someone else miserable. Actually make that some thing else.
Yes, we had to drag the new puppy to the lowest of depths by making him dress up too.
And as a devil. It was just too fitting. On sale too.
But the best part of the night, besides the massive amount of candy that Sarge and I have gorged ourselves on, was this brilliant brainchild of my girl.
Yes, the deranged ballerina was arrested by Bobba Fett, bounty hunter extraordinaire.
I always knew having a police car in the driveway would come in handy somehow.
does not come easy to police officers. And their families.
Case in point–what my son did to me at the Harry Potter-themed Halloween party we went to tonight.
Now, seriously folks, it was easy to apply face paint to a person according to the afore mentioned theme.
Why, the job I have done on my son here is stupendous.
How did I end up with such a questionable look?
And another example of my artistic handiwork . . .
At least the kids looked pretty normal.
And my contribution to the party were Rice Krispie Treat pumpkins.
Which the kids in attendance were allowed to decorate according to their own preferences.
You would think that other than the exception of my hideous face painting, we would be the kind of family that would be fun to have come over.
But I haven’t told the full truth yet. We went over to a fellow police officer’s house tonight. A man that Sarge has known for almost all of his 13 years with his department. As a result, they are a little too comfortable with each other.
In fact, the conversation that occurred while the adults were carving the pumpkins and the kids were running around was disturbing to say the least.
And the least inflammatory thing I can repeat here is “Yeah, we don’t need partners. That’s just another witness to worry about.”
Oh my! That’s all I can say.
To repeat some of the other topics and one-liners that were tossed around would scare the pants of a normal person. In times like this, I find it helps to repeat my mantra that “normal is just a setting on the washing machine.”
A great thing about the night is we (as in the adults, not the kids) carved some pretty fantastic pumpkins.
As I so rarely ever get to display Sarge in this forum, I figured it was time to give him his due and finally include another picture of him. It’s been quite awhile so here goes, people.
Happy night before halloween!
On a completely different note, I was at work today and stopped at a gas station to get my morning caffeine fix/Diet Dr. Pepper. While in the store, I saw a police officer. As I work in the same geographical area where Sarge is assigned to work, I was pretty sure this fellow worked for Sarge.
Well, Sarge came down with a pretty bad cold yesterday. And when Sarge is sick, he is not the easiest person to be around. But for the life of him, Sarge will not take a sick day. This morning, he dragged his sorry, sneezing self to work. Plus I had already talked to him on the phone earlier prior to stopping at the gas station, I knew he was not in the best of moods.
As I passed by the police officer in the store, I had an overwhelming compulsion, an urge so strong it was almost impossible to deny, to say something to the poor fellow. Something along the lines of ”Your supervisor is in a really bad mood and I’m so sorry. Just take my advice and steer clear of him until he’s healthy again.”
But since this officer didn’t know me from Adam, I didn’t want to scare the pants off him.
Or risk being taken into custody for some strange charge like insanity. Or is that even a real charge?
Anyway, I resisted my very strong instinct and said not a word.
But I still felt sincerely bad for him and all of the people who had to work with grumpy Sarge today.
Tonight was the next-to-the-last game of my boy’s tee ball championship tournament. He has had a pretty bang-up season so far given it’s only his second season playing. He’s learned to hit off a pitch.
He has scored quite a few runs. And thankfully, he’s only gotten out on base only a couple of times. Defense is not a tee ball player’s strength. It will come in time though, I know.
His field playing skills have improved a lot too. In fact, tonight’s game was the game where he actually had the most contact with the ball all season. Even better than that, he got an out tonight too.
But . . . and you had to know this was coming, his team lost. That means his team did not make it to the championship game. Even though he and fellow team mates were good sports and did the right thing in congratulating the other team, they were pretty upset over the loss.
Honestly, there is nothing worse than seeing a whole group of four to six year olds looking utterly sad and dejected.
Then tonight, after we got home and I was tossing the boy into the shower, he says to me “Does life always have to stink?” It just about broke my heart.
I replied that “No, it doesn’t always stink but there are moments which do. You just have to get through them.”
So here’s to getting through the stinky moments.
And to leave you hanging for awhile, I have a pretty funny story to tell about the glove my son is wearing.
