A break and an accomplishment

I couldn't finish December. What I meant to be playful and fun got to a deep place with me after the horrific events of December 14th. Instead, I threw myself into everything possible with my kids, keeping all those families who could not close to my heart and in the front of my mind. And you know what? It was one of the greatest holidays ever.

We made it through a 2 year old's birthday party since then (yeah, she's two! yikes!) and we're preparing for a 7 year old's birthday party in three weeks. Equally as mind blowing.

The news of year, so far, though? I GRADUATED FROM COLLEGE! At 32 years old I finally have my Bachelor's Degree in Integrated Supply Chain and Organizational Management. I get things done. And its documented. Finally.

I know this seems silly to most, but I spent a total of 13 years working toward a degree. What started as a teaching degree, moved into this as my work life expanded and my time spent working in a school system soured my outlook on a teaching career.

I promised my grandma when she died 9 years ago that at some point, I'd go back. I'd find something, I'd go back, and I'd get a college degree. For sure. Back then, I didn't even believe it myself. It seemed completely impossible but over time, I dug out of that dark place and moved forward with my plan.

Since returning to school 4 years ago I have gotten engaged, lost a job, gotten married, gotten a new job, bought a house, had a baby, and enjoyed many unbelievable moments in between. To say it was easy would be an understatement. I am forever in the debt of my husband for his support in helping to keep the house running (and for being cool with me taking on some student loan debts!). But I do not regret a moment of it.

If you're looking o change your life, do it. You can. Trust me. If I can, you certainly can.

On the FIFTH Day of our Christmas

On the FIFTH day of our Christmas the gift we gave our kids was: all our love. Sorry we're late, but a blog post was suddenly not so important last night.

Yesterday morning, I got a 6 year old ready for school. We talked about the spelling test he'd been studying for all week and how well I knew he'd do. We talked about which morning snack he wanted to bring, to make sure his morning was great. His lunch was packed with a wonderful compromise of the healthy foods I wanted and the favorite foods he wanted. It was "Santa's Workshop" day too - the kids would all make crafty presents for their family members. He was excited and looking forward to the day. We put on his winter coat and boots, made sure his backpack was ready for his day, and hopped in the car. I dropped him off to his before-school ride and told him "I love you, have a good day. I know you can do it" and I went to work without really giving our morning another thought.

I'm sure in a small Connecticut town a mom like me, with a boy like B, went through the same motions.

I'm sure neither of us thought to address what to do in case a crazed gunman entered the school. We didn't remind the kids of safety measures or talk with them about escape routes from their classrooms.  Why would we? They're little kids. They're six years old.

But at the end of the day, I got to hold my baby in my arms again - along with his little sister. I was glad I had told him I loved him and glad he had been safe.

The other mother was not so lucky.

This hits home. Random shootings are a tragedy no matter what. They are always senseless and never fair. Regardless of circumstances or victims I am always left shaking my head and wondering what could make one person hate so many, many they never knew, so deeply they could kill. But this wasn't that random. An angry adult for reasons unknown chose to target innocent children as they went about their day of learning at their school with their friends.

I can't tell you how many tears I have shed since this news came. I've cried out of the deepest and sincerest form of empathy and sympathy I can muster for the parents, siblings, friends, teachers, and town of Newtown. Sandy Hook Elementary was never on my radar before but now it's at the forefront of my mind and heart. Seeing the children crying and streaming from the school while visibly shaken parents run by searching for their child makes me want to head to the town, start knocking on doors, and personally just hug everyone. Door to door. I wish there was something I could do to truly make this better. Something I could say.  But I know there is not.

The best I can do is offer this bit of promise to those parents: your children will never be forgotten. They will in all of our hearts, especially mine forever. In their short time with us, your children have reminded us all how important life is and how we must value every second. They opened our eyes to what mattered, how to love more fully, and to never take a moment for granted. Because of your children, our world got smaller, the love got bigger, the prayers stronger. People's lives have forever been moved and transformed for the better, even through this evil tragedy.

In honor of the mothers of Newton, I will hug my children extra each night, kiss them one more time, tell them how much I love them, and thank God for them more than before. My tears are not only from pure sadness but from a sense of gratitude for the awakening your children have given this world.

Please pray for Newtown. Pray for the new angel Heaven received yesterday and thank God for wrapping them up in his arms. While there are still many questions here on Earth and countless broken hearts, He will help us all through this and give these families the strength they need to carry on. Your children are our angels now and angels are never forgotten.

On the FOURTH Day or our Christmas

On the FOURTH day of our Christmas the gift we gave our kids was: letting them wrap their presents for us and put them under the tree!

The wrap jobs are certainly not from the mall professionals. B may have hurt himself on the tape dispenser (it's just a little scratch!) and if you touch any of these gifts the paper will probably rip and show what is inside.

But the pride and joy on B's face as he wrapped these gifts, chose the tags, and filled them out in his shaky six year old penmanship is something that will never be forgotten. He and L picked out gifts for their parents and put them under the tree as a great surprise.
On the fourth day we gave them pride in giving. An excellent gift!

The THIRD Day of our Christmas

On the THIRD day of our Christmas the gift we gave our kids was: Rest.

The boy has the flu. The girl hand,foot,mouth disease (love our daycare, could do without that).
So on the third day of our Christmas I gave them the gift of one of my precious vacation days.  That's big. If I could find a way to unveil that in a manner similar to those Lexus Christmas ads with the giant red bows on them, I would. Its up there. No joke.
I also gave them: a bland diet for the boy, some lotion for the girl, and early bedtimes for both!
Dad can give them the gift of his vacations days tomorrow. :)

The Second Day of our Christmas...

On the SECOND day of our Christmas, the gift we gave our kids were: HOMEMADE STOCKINGS!

Okay, I didn't bust these out in a day. Not at all. But I found a GREAT pattern on Pinterest back in September, planned ahead and then learned how to embroider - then I got to work!
First, hats off to a GREAT pattern here at the Fabricworm Blog, it was great for a beginner like me.
I hit up Joann's and everyone picked out their favorite fabric and name color to give them a personal touch but I love that they are simple, clearly homemade (but not tacky!), and still let us all have our own style about them.
The kids are in awe of them and I have to admit, the new stockings actually got mention in my son's letter to Santa.

I'm kind of a big deal around here.

The FIRST Day of our Christmas

The twelve days of OUR Christmas start today :) My son will be traveling to see his father for Christmas Day so I made a call to Santa and asked him to stop by a few days early. Luckily for my kids, I was always a great client of Santa's back in the day and he was beyond willing to oblige with a trip to our house on the night of December 21.

On the FIRST day of our Christmas, the gift I gave we gave our kids was: COOKIE MAKING MEMORIES!

 

Christmas cookie making is a long standing tradition in our family. I remember being a small 5 year old girl standing on a dining room chair in the kitchen of my grandmother as she expertly made dough and rolled it out to the perfect thickness. She had what felt like a hundred cookie cutters waiting for us, all destined for greatness one adorned with colored icing, sprinkles, red hot candies, and little silver balls.

The kitchen was full of bags of flour, sugar, and mixing bowls all put to good use. The stove was crowded with pots and pans full of candies and chocolate mixtures in the making. It smelled amazing and looked like the single most important duty for the holidays to the eyes of an enchanted five year old. My grandma was the most amazing baker I had seen. I'm pretty sure she had most of those recipes memorized, a fact that hurts now that I do not have copies of them all to pass on. She knew what to do, how to fix "mistakes", and exactly when to take cookies out of the oven at the moment they reach perfection. More than 25 years later, I am still working on that skill. Maybe it's something only a grandmother can do.

I am not a grandmother, although I feel that old some days! I am a mother longing to create memories with my children and family that will live on fondly in their hearts even once I am gone. Just like my warm memories of Grandma Cocoa's baking days.

My son is not interested in the baking aspect and my daughter a little young still (but I have hope for her!) so the rolling, cutting, and baking of the cookies fell on my shoulders. Turning on the Christmas music and starting at my task I was taken back to that brown and blue kitchen I loved back in 1985. I do not have the hundreds of cookie cutters Grandma Cocoa did but I have a few and my kids chose two that they'd like to decorate; gingerbread men and Christmas trees, two of my favorites.

I like to think they both inherited her amazing cookie skills and made some memories of hanging out with their parents around the holidays. Their parents definitely cherished the time.

The Elf on the Shelf

I have seen the many insane Elf on the Shelf tricks posted on Pinterest and blogs galore this time of year. I have also see the posts declaring the “overachieving moms” crazy for the lengths they go through to keep their children enchanted this time of the year.

I’ve also see the real news and decided there are bigger things I could be debating and choose to remain out of this one.

We do, however participate in the Elf on the Shelf tradition. Every year Kiki the Elf appears and moves about the house. We have never forgotten to move him, but hanging upside down is about as creative as we get. It’s ok though, our son (who is almost 7) loves this guy and truly believes he is a direct link to Santa. If nothing else, we get about a month of good behavior.

We had no idea what we were in for as we busted Kiki out this year, with an almost 2 year old on our hands.

While I’ve heard people say they feel the elf is creepy, I never got it. Until I had a little girl sobbing on the floor pointing at a curious elf peeking at her from the fireplace mantle. That should have been my first clue we were in trouble.

As he moved on top of the living room valence, she avoided that part of the room.

When he sat in the dining room window, she ate in the living room.

However, when she spotted him hanging upside down out of a can light in the living room ceiling it proved to be more than she could handle and her real fear was revealed.

 (please note: she doesn’t speak this clearly, but as I am fluent in what she speaks I’ll translate for you dear reader)

“Momma! Help him down!”

“L, he’s fine. He’s just an elf reporting back to Santa”
“He’s gonna fall”
“Nah, he’s holding on tight and he’s got some magic dust up there – he’s fine.”
“Momma pleeeeeease!”
“L, no. He is fine.”
“Momma…JESUS IS STUCK! STUCK! HELP JESUS DOWN!!!”

Aha! She’s not grasping this is an elf, she’s convinced that Jesus has appeared in her home and is putting himself in perilous situations. Apparently, all that money I’m shelling out to the expensive but WONDERFUL church-based daycare is worth it – she’s got the meaning of Christmas down! But, if this is going to continue much longer, I may need to think of a way for the elf to let her brother know he’s on the good list and cut out early.