Busy Party Elf

Tomorrow is Robby and Scott's last school day for 2013. To the delight of both boys, they will be able to enjoy 16 days at home before returning to school.  While I will be glad to have them home, I am withholding judgement about the length of their vacation. After all, having them home all day always equates to more dishes, food preparation, need fulfillment and overall messes for me to fix.

Robby's excitement about Santa visiting next week has been tempered by the anticipation of his classroom party and performance. His class has been practicing their song for the past month, and he is eager to finally take the stage. Much to his delight, Scott and his Nana (my Mom) are going to be able to come to his little performance. He is over-the-moon to have his own cheering section!

Before Robby's concert I am hosting the class Christmas party. I have bags overflowing with crafts, games and special surprises. Robby has become accustomed to my planning his class parties, but even I am impressed by everything that I have planned for him and his little friends.We will make ornaments, paint snow scenes, play a variety of reindeer games and even have our own snowman dance party. I anticipate being exhausted by the time his concert begins. 

The Halloween and Thanksgiving parties in his class have certainly set high expectations for his classmates. Although we had a great time with each celebration, the kids have no idea what fun I have in store for them tomorrow. For the past few days I have been inundated by prying questions as his friends try to figure out the party secrets. I just love seeing the excitement in their eyes every time they ask. They don't know what we are going to do, but they do know that it is going to be a lot of fun. After this much planning and prep work, I venture to say that I am probably as excited as the kids for the party!

Magic Lotion

To say that yesterday was hectic would surely be an understatement. I woke up early, tired from a restless night of trying to calm my worries and anxieties about the day's activities. I had a camera crew coming to my home to film an interview for a possible national story. Needless to say, every insecurity and minuscule details suddenly became paramount.

Thinking ahead, I had scheduled for a cleaning service to come on Monday. I wasn't expecting a miracle, but I was hopeful that they could make my home presentable. Not wanting to disturb the countless Christmas decorations strewn everywhere, the crew certainly had their work cut out for them! With the cleaning off my worry list, I was able to focus on more pressing issues, such as what I was supposed to wear.

There is no denying it; I am now wearing maternity clothes. Although I avoided the switch, as soon as I felt the soft elastic around my belly, I knew I had made the right decision. The clothes are certainly not the most fashionable, but most of the time I tend towards comfort over style. 

Of course, this time I wanted to achieve both style and comfort, a quest akin to chasing windmills when you are relegated to a maternity wardrobe. Finally giving up, I settled for a pretty teal sweater and my black maternity pants. Understated and certainly not trendy, but classic and presentable. By the time the crew pulled into my driveway I was dressed, my make-up was applied (twice) and my hair was styled (to the best of my limited abilities).

Robby, recognizing that I was nervous, decided to give me my Christmas gift early. He was insistent that I open it despite my reminders that Christmas is a week away. After unwrapping the tube of lotion, he proclaimed that I needed it because it was magic lotion which would give me "super powers" for the interview. Applying the lotion failed to result in my becoming a super hero, but the (extremely) sweet aroma reminded me of Robby. Maybe his confidence in me was the booster that I needed.

All things considered, I was pleased with the interview. I didn't stammer, and I am fairly sure that I spoke cohesive thoughts with minimal "umms and yeahs." (My former speech teacher would be impressed.) I don't know if my portion of the story will make the cut or if it will make the cutting room floor. Either way, I know that I invested my best effort in the project. Considering the topic for the story, highlighting people who have made a difference utilizing blogs and social media, I am honored to have been courted for an interview. I'll keep you posted with details as they arise. 

Christmas Crafts

We are in full-blown Christmas mode. Tinsel, paper-chain garland and decorations are strewn everywhere, provided it is 4 feet and below. Robby and his friend Rowan have invested hours happily decorating for the season. I think their artistic vision is charming and haven't changed a thing. (Okay, I did remove the ornaments that were hanging on every light switch so that the lights could be turned off.) Martha Stewart would certain not approve of our decor, but I probably wouldn't feel comfortable in her home anyway!

With the interior exuding Christmas spirit, Robby and I switched our attention to other traditions. Every year he loves decorating his Gingerbread house. I don't necessarily enjoy the process of mixing, cutting, baking and assembling the structure for him, but seeing the excitement in his eyes makes it worthwhile. For some reason, pre-made Gingerbread houses are too perfect and uniform for our home. Our cookie creation has lopsided walls and a bumpy roof, but I think those imperfections add character. At least, that is what I tell myself when I prop a variety of glasses, bowls and DVD cases against the walls to keep them in place while drying. 

After setting up Robby with a dozen bowls filled with colorful candy, novelty sprinkles and other edible decorations, I seized the opportunity to work on another festive craft. A friend of mine sent me a link for what Pinterest claimed to be an "simple, no-fail Christmas craft geared for children." I thought the result was clever, and considering that I am certainly not a child, I felt that I possessed the skill level required. I grabbed 20 candy canes, my glue gun and sat across from Robby to create my own festive masterpiece.

Within minutes of the glue gun turning on I remembered an important fact about myself. In my incapable hands, the glue gun becomes a weapon of self-destruction. I managed to drip hot glue on just about every pour of exposed skin. I am still trying to figure out how scalding hot glue ended up on my forehead and scalp!

The Christmas music in the background was drowned out by my not so festive cursing as I tried to deposit the glue onto the candy canes instead of my fingertips. After several reprimands from Robby, I finally just dropped a ten dollar bill into the cuss jar, hoping it was enough to cover the offenses. I tried to temper my words, but hot glue under my fingernails apparently brings out the sailor in me. 

My fingertips were sore and blistered by the time my "simple, no-fail" craft was complete. All the wreath needed was another candy cane heart to fill the void. Unfortunately it didn't fit. I have no idea how the Pinterest crafters were able to create a complete wreath, because mine simply wouldn't close. Obviously, I was incorrect in my assumption that I had the crafting talent of a child. 

Out of fear of using up my credit in the cuss jar, I decided to walk away from the project. My wreath may not be a complete circle, but I am trying to be optimistic. Instead of being a Pinterest failure, I crafted the opportunity to include a large bow for hanging. Somehow, this funny looking wreath looks perfect next to our candy covered crooked Gingerbread house.

 

 

Oh Christmas Tree...

Cutting down a Christmas tree has been a tradition in my family since I was young. I can remember going to a tree lot only a handful of times in my life. Bundling up in coats, hats and scarves and "braving" the frigid temperatures in search of the perfect evergreen is a highlight of our holiday celebrations! Of course, some years we were in short sleeve shirts and tromping through the mud, but the colder years are the quintessential memories I cherish most.

Preferably the tree is always cut from the same farm in Pennsylvania although we have been known to deviate from that location depending upon the circumstances. Although Scott grumbles each year about driving 2 hours for a tree, I know that he understands the sentimental value that the tree farm provides. Not necessarily an outdoors man, and certainly not somebody who enjoys schlepping through the woods and getting covered with tree sap and debris, even he has come to appreciate and enjoy the tradition.

This year, our family again piled into the car and headed to Pennsylvania. This year my Dad, who lives in Texas, was able to coincide a visit with a business trip in the area. To the delight of all of his his grandchildren, their beloved Candy Papaw was able to come to the Christmas tree farm. 

Robby was practically giddy at the prospect of being able to cut down a tree like a lumberjack. His Paul Bunyan fantasies were slightly tempered when he realized that he had to use a saw instead of an ax. After emphatically informing me that an ax would be a better tool for the job, he begrudgingly took a saw and hopped onto the hayride destined for the tree fields. 

After carefully evaluating his options, Robby chose a beautiful (and incredibly large) Christmas tree.  After measuring to make sure it would fit (we ended up clearing the ceiling by two inches), the boys began to cut it down. Robby, insistent that he did not need help because he is "becoming a man" finally allowed his Daddy a turn with the saw. Thankfully Scott took full advantage of the brief window and made a rather deep cut in the trunk. If he hadn't, I'm fairly sure that my little man would still be in the field hacking away at the tree!

As soon as we brought the looming evergreen into the house Robby wanted to commence decorating. Wanting a tree that exuded Christmas spirit and was bright enough for Santa to see from his sleigh, Robby begged for me to put on every light strand we own. Caught up in the festivities, I agreed. An hour later we stepped back and turned on the tree. 

My first thought after seeing the tree illuminated was "Holy Hell this is bright!" It turns out that 2,000 miniature LED lights can put off quite a bit of illumination. Mr. Bill actually called because he could see the tree shining brightly from his living room window! I went outside to evaluate the visibility of our tree to discover that the bottom portion of our driveway was illuminated with a beautiful montage of red, blue, green, yellow and purple.  Our living room looks like a 1970's nightclub from the road.

We definitely crossed the line from festive to full-blown tacky, but in Robby's eyes, it is nothing short of spectacular. He has no doubt that Santa will be able to see his tree. I'm pretty sure that the astronauts on the Space Station are also the recipients of our shining Christmas spirit! 

Emergency Cupcakes

Yesterday morning, after dropping off Robby at school and running a few errands (which unfortunately involved pumping gas in 17 degree temperatures), I came home and settled in front of the wood stove. I had my binders at the ready and was preparing to spend the remainder of the day finishing up some reports and working on a newsletter. All plans were put on hold when I received an unexpected phone call from Robby.

I always become nervous when the caller ID reads Robby's school. Anticipating news that he had become ill or learn that an unexpected visit from Robby Rotten needed to be addressed, I jumped for the phone as soon as I recognized the number. After all, the calls from school almost always herald bad news!

Robby's sweet and chipper voice was on the other end of the line, and I immediately knew that he was neither sick nor in trouble. Instead, he was calling to ask me for a favor.  He was concerned because a friend (who is in a different class but shares a recess) was celebrating a birthday and he did not have a treat to share with his class.  Robby asked me to bake some cupcakes and bring them to school for his friend. After all, when you are in elementary school, birthday cupcakes reign supreme!

After talking with him for a few minutes he handed the phone to the Principal. She explained that Robby was worried and wanted to help his friend. Hopeful that a phone call would allow him to refocus, they allowed him to call me. I inquired about his friend and learned that his mother was sick. Although she didn't verbalize the diagnosis, the conversation led me to believe that the mom was battling some form of cancer and that the family was overwhelmed. I began to preheat the oven before hanging up the phone. 

 

I knew that time was of the essence and I wanted the child to have the treats to share before everybody started to go home for the day. The frigid air which I cursed while pumping gas worked to my benefit when cooling the cupcakes. I whipped up and decorated two dozen birthday cupcakes in record time!

Covered in batter and icing, I managed to deliver the cupcakes before the second recess began. I gave them to the Principal because I did not want to draw undo attention to the situation. I knew that she would be able to quietly and discretely deliver them to the correct classroom. I did stop by and let Robby know that his request was filled and that his friend had treats to share. He threw his arms around me and whispered, "Thanks for having my back, Momom."

The sincere concern and empathy that Robby demonstrated for his friend warmed my heart. I am the first to admit that we have made our fair share of parenting mistakes. Robby is far from the perfect child, and at times his behavior and habits make me want to pull my hair out. But I am in awe of the intuitive sense of empathy that he has for others. We have done a lot wrong, but while I was baking the cupcakes I was acutely aware that we have also done something very right.

Eggos

Yesterday I woke up uncomfortably early. I didn't wake for any purpose; I just simply couldn't sleep anymore. I am splitting the blame for this issue between stress, my ripening pituitary tumors and the pregnancy. Unfortunately, knowing the cause does little to quell my frustrations while I'm sitting in the living room at 4 AM.

The announcement for Robby's two-hour school delay came scrolling across the bottom of the tv screen around 4:30. I remember the excitement of school delays when I was his age. There was something special about mulling around in the morning in my pajamas and eating a special breakfast. The joy of missing two hours in the morning is only overshadowed by an entire snow day.

My desire to relive my school delay childhood memories combined with my need for a project compelled me to make Robby a special breakfast. At 5 AM I carefully (and quietly) mixed and kneaded the dough for homemade sticky buns. The breakfast treat takes several hours to prepare, but time was not an issue. After all, we had a two hour school delay!

By 7:45 the pastries were mixed, shaped and slid into the oven. It didn't take long for the comforting and appetizing odor to start wafting through the air. Wanting to make the breakfast a bit more balanced, I decided that I should fry some bacon.

If you have never smelled the wonderful aromas of sticky buns baking and bacon frying, you are missing out. If I could figure out a way to capture the heavenly odors, I would surely be a millionaire. Within a few minutes Robby was lured out of bed by the smells. He appeared in the kitchen wearing his army man footie pajamas and just rolled out of bed hair. He looked adorable as he stood by the oven, inquisitively sniffing the air. Without my offering an explanation, he smiled and said, "It's good to be a kid." 

I set up the TV tray with a warm sticky bun and bacon. After turning on Scooby Doo, I poured myself a fresh cup of tea (I'm trying to minimize coffee intake) and assumed my position in my rocking chair. I was fully expecting him to devour the special breakfast I had prepared.

After 30 minutes of watching the Mystery Gang solve another phantom inspired case, Robby had still not touched his sticky bun. I finally asked him how it was, hoping that my prompt would entice him to eat. After all, it took me a lot of time to make the treat and I wanted it to be enjoyed! 

"Well Momom, thank you for my breakfast. Don't be sad. But I really wanted to have a super yummy Cinnamon Toast Eggo waffle this morning." 

I plopped his Eggos into the toaster and handed them to him on a paper towel once they were warmed. He devoured both in record time, citing the smells in the house as making him hungry. Apparently he likes the smell of sticky buns in the morning but he doesn't necessarily want to eat them.  Obviously my son is not going to grow up to be a food critic! 

Snow Days!

The past two days both boys have been off school because of snow and ice. I am not sure whose smile was wider when the news was announced that school was cancelled; both Robby and Scott seemed equally ecstatic about the snow day declaration. Robby was thrilled to have two days to frolic in the snow, build snowmen, go sledding and engage in "epic" snowball battles.  Scott was excited about the respite from his students!

This is the first year where I have not been asked to assume the role of Robby's snow buddy. I was happy to relinquish the cold responsibilities so that Robby could play with Rowan (our neighbor). To be honest, I was doubtful that my snow attire would fit over my growing baby bump. The fact that I could stay inside by the fire and that I didn't have to try to squeeze into various layers was a relief!

Instead of playmate, I was reassigned to resident baker, hot chocolate maker and clothing dryer. Every few hours the kids would come inside and peel off their drenched layers leaving me with a large wet pile of snow clothes by the front door. I'd throw them into the dryer before filling their snack and drink orders. By the time they were done eating, their snow clothes were dry and ready for another round in the frigid temperatures.  My hot chocolate maker, ovens and dryer all worked overtime over the past few days, but watching them play from the window made every effort worthwhile.

Other than some mild shocks at night, my phantom pain has been virtually non-existent through this winter event. Many times the limb pain which accompanies snowstorms can be unbearable. I was delighted to actually watch the flakes fly through the air without feeling the pain and discomfort which often accompanies the tranquil sight. 

Much to the chagrin of both boys, they will return to school today. Although I enjoyed having them home, I am ready for the house again to be quiet. It's hard for me to get a lot of work done when I'm constantly being asked to bake treats and dry mountains of wet clothes.

Today will be spent finishing up reports and paperwork. The snow has melted and the walkways are slick, so I am hesitant to venture out by myself if it isn't absolutely necessary. In year's past I would just slip on my Yak-Trax cleats, but the addition of the baby bump makes walking on the ice even more difficult. I'd rather stay inside by the fire and wait for Scott to come home before running errands. Right now, slipping and falling is the last thing I need!