Christmas Crappy - I Mean Crafty

If you happen to have a little sister named Tracy (which I do) and she happens to call you one day to tell you to fire up the old TV to see a Christmas craft they were doing on one of those cheesy Utah crafty shows (which she did!) you should probably just say "cute!" and then hang up right on her face (which, unfortunately, I didn't). Because once you start this craft, you'll be yelling expletives that you didn't even know you knew! Super fun! Don't worry, though. I'll spoil it right now for you - SPOILER ALERT! and all that - it ends up pretty cute. Plus it's just more added to my arsenal of why the children WILL adore me until the end of time. See what I did for you?!? You can never have enough See What I Did For Yous!

We jumped into this advent calendar thing, because I love advent calendars. Advent calendars and nativity scenes. Those, Linus, are what Christmas is all about. It was after jumping, however, that we realized the scope of this calendar. Each one takes 25 tins, as I'm sure you figured. But, times that by 5 naughty elves and that makes 125 TINS! Where on earth can you find 125 tins without cracking into the college fund piggy bank? I'll tell you! Some on Ebay, some at Michaels, some at JoAnns, some at Oriental Trading, and some that don't work at Hobby Lobby, so I'd avoid those if I were you. But then, on top of the 125 tins there are numbers, and under the 125 tins there are letters. That makes 250 punches to punch! Insert Howard Dean charging yell of excitement right here!

The Jebcarpenter made the frames himself. And then since it was cold outside we decided to paint them down in the most unventilated part of our house, which would be the unfinished part of the basement just down from the heater. Guess what happened? No, we did not blow up the house. But thanks for thinking I'd be blogging after our house blew up! No, the heater kicked on and pulled all the paint fumes from the basement and blew them all over the house. Anyone wanting a quick pick me up can come and take some deep breaths in our house for 30 seconds and you'll be feeling goooooooood. Or you might have a killer headache like mine. Either way.

The next exciting part of this project is the magnets on the backs of the tins. Considering the mass quantities of individual magnets required we opted for the cheapo solution of the rolled up magnet tape. That, I'd say, was the biggest mistake I have made in my entire life. ENTIRE LIFE! Those babies would plunge themselves to a death by tile all night long. It sounded like little Christmas kamikazes exploding as they plummeted themselves to the floor in the middle of the night. Like Christmas fireworks! Another Howard Dean yell!

Anyway, here is the finished product. And the link for the details wherein she paints a much happier picture of the process, cause I know after my description you're totally heading there to do these for all your neighbor gifts, right?

Conversations with Leah Boo

We were riding in the van on our way downtown when in the next lane we see a small truck with a fence all around the bed. Inside the fenced in bed of the truck was a small white pony with a cowboy hat on. The truck had a sign on the side that read "Party Pony! Great for birthday parties!". As we drove by that truck Leah, in the back of the van, said

"That's a boy pony. Know how I can tell?"

And I held my breath and waited for her answer.

"He's got on a cowboy hat. CowBOY. See?"

Very good, Boo. Very good.

Snowprints

I start to black out the dreaded winter as soon as those silly little crocuses start peaking out their early heads. When there is a taste of spring in the air, I begin to push the memories of everything cold out of my mind. But every year, with the very first snow, it all comes rushing back to me. And this year I promised myself that there would always be one thing that I never forget to remember even when bathing in the summer sunshine.

It came back to me on the night of this year's very first snowfall. The Jebdate and I wandered across the street to our favorite neighbor's house just as the storm began. In the time it took to cross the street both of us were covered in big, fluffy snowflakes. It was coming down. We then spent a few hours in the warm company of our good friends, solving the worlds mysteries and lamenting children. When we had exhausted ourselves and all lucid conversation, Jeb and I put our shoes back on and started our way back across the street. During our visiting the snow had piled a few inches and covered the grass, sidewalk, and road. As John-Erik and I made it down our neighbor's driveway, he dashed in front of me and out into the street. I thought he was just cold and couldn't take the short walk through the snow. But, no. That was when the memory of every snowstorm we have weathered together returned.

He's always walked in front of me in the snow. He does this to make footprints for me to follow in. I don't think he does it for me to notice he does it, but just because he is thoughtful like that. He knows I hate the snow. Hate, hate, hate. Especially when it gets in my shoes and clings the bottoms of my jeans. And so with every single snowstorm that we have to walk through, he jumps ahead and cuts a path for me to follow. Sweet, right?

Well, I notice. And I won't forget.

Leah's Been Pierced!

I usually don't have work on Wednesdays, so that's the day we do all our traipsing about the town. Don't act like you don't traipse. You totally do.

Anyway, on this particular Wednesday we had decided to traipse about Forever 21, because we had heard about it, but hadn't yet experienced it. If the same goes for you, let me tell you; Forever 21 is Forever overrated. What is with all the shirts that are short in the front, longer in the back, but way wider than they are long? Am I old, or is the fashion really ugly right now? I did manage to score a black sweater for 8 bucks, though. But, that's not the point of the story. I'm getting there. Swear.

After our Forever letdown experience, we enter into the vast beyond of the mall. First stop, Claire's. Leah loves Claire's, and I do too as it was the place who gave me my first job. A 16 year old girl in a jewelry store? I know, right? Meeemmmoories. Next time you're there notice how they organize the towers of earrings in a shapes, hoops, dangles manner. It's how I organize my jewelry to this very day.

As we cross the threshold of Leah's favorite place, the associate points us in the direction of the clearance section and tells us everything there is 10 for 10 bucks. Another shopping victory! Leah grabs a basket and begins the fury of filling that baby up. There were 2 other moms there and a girl who was probably 9 years old doing the same thing. Leah asks the other moms who had been digging in the treasure longer than us if they had seen any clip on earrings. They start handing her some, along with some magnetic ones, when the little girl says "You don't have your ears pierced? You should totally do it. It doesn't hurt". And one of the moms says "I pierced all my girls ears when they were babies. You could wear the real earrings then". And that's when a I saw a crack in Leah's if-you-even-touch-my-ears-I'll-have-a-freak-out-like-you-won't-believe wall. So I ask her if she wants to go and look at the desk where they do the piercing. She checks out the page of earrings and decides she wants to go for it. I immediately throw my hand up in the air and whistle the associate over. We've got a live one here and the key is to ACT FAST before she can freak herself out. The girl starts going over the spiel and I rush her through it. Let's do this thing. Except, it took awhile to get the placing right with their marker. Turns out, Leah has some funky shaped earlobes. Weird. She totally gets that from her dad.

Boo had managed to sit in the chair, holding the piercing bear, all by herself until the big moment. Then she wanted to sit in my lap, which was good because then I can pull out the mom hold of extreme still. The associates count to 3 and, "click", in go the studs. Immediately Leah starts crying. Not screaming, thank goodness, just big, fat tears crying. The girls who did her this injustice squirt on the cooling solution and hand her a mirror to help her stop crying. It was in that mirror that I could see Leah, and she could see me, and she shot me the dirtiest look of hatred that I have ever seen cross her face. Which of course makes me start laughing. A few more douses of the solution and Leah is feeling much better. I'm laughing and smiling with such joy and pride in my scaredy Boo. She did it, the poor thing.

We go back to the earrings and she trades out her clip ons and magnets for the real deal. Outside of the store we text everyone a picture of her ears with the caption "Look what Leah just did!", and then let the accolades pour back. My Boo. I was so proud of her.

Ah, another milestone. We've had a big year with my little Boo. This summer she finally braved Bo's water slide, and then managed the biggest tricks on it of all the grandkids.

She was the only one who dared stand next to Mr. Fredericksen at the Up house.

She touched the all the Halloween decorations this year and then stuck out her tongue at them with a "you can't scare me" attitude.

Her courage seems to be creeping in, very, very slowly, but I guess still surely. She is still afraid of EVERYTHING, which can be infuriating sometimes, but maybe eventually she'll cautiously grow out of that. We'll just get to watch and wait. They payoff will burst my heart, I'm sure.

Spookie Ookie

So, Halloween. It's pretty fun, right? Except the Jebgrouch didn't grow up with it, (another reason why Sweden is weird), and so he has never gotten into it. "It's creepy" is what I hear from about October 15th right on through. Oh, well. I've managed to get him dressed up as Donald Duck two years in a row now. Pictures, you ask? None, I sadly respond. He's always the one BEHIND the camera when the costume is on. It's his favorite Halloween trick.

The kids are into it, even though their father has tried to convince them otherwise. It's getting to be pretty close to the end of Abigail's Halloween career, though. Bummer. She decided to dress up as the devil this year. I said "so you're just going to wear your regular clothes then? That's no fun." She didn't think that was funny. Abigail as the devil. Unfortunate, I know.

Harrison's costume this year was surprisingly popular. We probably saw 10 other red and black ninjas at school. Which is really spooky since I bought his costume on clearance about 2 years ago. Ooooooh! Scary!

This year Leah turned Halloween into the Oscars. She had a costume change with every new treat presenter it seemed. We started off with the poodle skirt, moved onto the witch, and ended with Belle. And also threw in a few days in the house as Jasmine and Jessie. Oh, she was using the free pass on dressing up, you betcha.

Hudson also had a few wardrobe changes. It comes with being the younger brother I guess, and the beneficiary of all the hand me downs. Although he was not happy with the dragon costume for some reason. He liked his little ninja much better.

Fluffy was put in the Dumbo. All of the kids have taken their turn. It's the cutest costume known to man, and it puts them into some kind of scary zombie state. For some reason, I guess with the puffy pillow belly and the warmth of the costume, it puts them to sleep. Every single kid has fallen asleep in that costume. Ah, memories. Chubby little red cheeks passed out on the big Dumbo belly. We did have to alter it for the Fluffy and remove some of the belly stuffing. He had enough of his own stuff and fluff to fill it. No, not really, but really we could have.

Obligatory pictures!

We always have to camp out the night before at the school for the Halloween parade. The boys tolerated it fine, surprisingly.

The break neck speed at which the kids pass us by. Even though we have the conversation before school that they need to try and SLOW DOWN so we can get a picture. Glad we had that conversation.




Obligatory pre-Trick or Treating pictures! Hooray!

See? Hudson is mad at that dragon costume. It was the warmest though, so he had to suck it up for the candy. I'm a nice mom like that.

Aaaahh! The devil is coming to get Harrison! Watch out, Bubba!

And one more costume change. Harrison dressed up as Papa dressed up as a ninja, and Abigail dressed up as Papa dressed up as the devil.

Leah dressed up as Papa dressed up as Belle and Hudson dressed up as Papa dressed up as a happy dragon this time. Guess we needed to add the mustache to make it better.

And finally, the Fluff dressed up as Papa dressed up as a slightly stoned Dumbo. I guess the costume even has its effects on grandpa! Spooooooky.

Jackson

Conversations with Buster

While leaving a very exciting Bees baseball game, we wandered past the, shall we say, smoking section outside the stadium. Hudson, riding up on the Jeb's shoulders, got very excited and began pointing at all the smokers as we passed by.

Hudson - "Look, mom! Look! They have blow holes!"

Thank you, Go Diego Go, for teaching Hudson about blow holes. It served him well that night.

Kindergarten is the Devil (and also makes for very long posts)

Ah, Leah. My Boo. And Kindergarten. Take a deep breath, grab a cookie, and here we go.

We start the day with the outfit that had been picked out for weeks, and then curl, and curl, and curl her hair. Oh, we had a plan, you betcha. But, about halfway through the curling process, Leah goes as white as a ghost and says "Mom, my tummy hurts. I'm gonna throw up" and starts to cry. I tell her "It's just butterflies, Boo. Take a deep breath and settle down, because if you're sick and throw up, you probably can't go to your first day." She tries taking deep breaths but she's too far gone already. After a few coughs and chokes we finish up her hair and she sits down for a bit and is fine. Phew. Hurdle one: cleared.

She's still a bit pale, but she made it.

Her friends come to pick her up and we start the walk. She's excited and chatty and happy the whole way there. The big kids drop her off at the Kindergarten playground and it's just me and Boo and about a billion other shrimpy excited kids. The bell rings and the teachers come out to help the kids line up. And the panic returns. "Are you coming in with me?!?" "Yes, Boo. You and me", which eases the panic, and we walk in holding hands. Hurdle two: cleared.

In we go to class and have a few activities to do together. Color in a pink person shaped paper and tape it to the wall to count the girls vs. the boys, color a canning jar lid with her name and a picture of her to use as attendance, and find her name tag and spot at the table.

Then, her teacher calls for the kids to gather around her on the rug for a story. That's when I start to panic as I hoped and prayed that it wouldn't be the story that I thought it was. It's a story that I've had to endure 2 times already, and wished I would never be subjected to ever again. It's the absolute worst story in the history of all stories. Really. It's ridiculously terrible. Torturous, I'd say.

But her teacher goes ahead and pulls out the most evil book to ever be published. The Kissing Hand. That darn Kissing Hand! Oh, how I hate The Kissing Hand. Why do Kindergarten teacher insist on inflicting that horrific Kissing Hand on parents every single year?!? WHY!!! Just the anticipation of that book, and then seeing its miserable cover sends me over the edge and I start to cry. I had been so good up to that point! My neighbor who has a boy in Leah's class starts to laugh and calls me a ninny. She's right. Curse you, Chester the Raccoon. Curse you, your mother, and your night school with the owl teacher.

Can you see it sitting there on the desk? Of the devil, that book is.

Leah has no idea what she's up against. Her teacher tells the kids that after she reads the story, the moms and dads are going to get a red bag from her desk and then it's time for them to say goodbye and go. Leah turns to look at me and sees me trying to pretend I'm not crying, but knows that I am crying, and begins to freak out. She gets wiggly during the story and I can feel her heart beating out of her chest all the way to the back of the room. Then the teacher closes up that evil book and says "Let's turn and wave goodbye to our parents! It's time for them to go!". Leah stands up to come and give me a hug and is in tears, just like her wimpy mom. "You're going to do great, Boo! It's going to be so much fun, you'll see!" But nothing is going to work at this point. She's the sobbing, snot all over her face, hyperventilating Boo we know and love. So, we go out to the hall and try to calm each other down. "I don't want you to go! I want to come home with you!" she cries. Darn all this grownup junk. I want the exact same thing she does. It takes everything in me to not swoop her up and do what both of us want more than anything right then. "No, it's going to be so boring at home. I'm just going to be working, and the boys are going to be doing nothing. It's way more fun at school! Look at all the friends you can make! And if you come home you'll miss out on recess and coloring and reading! You can do this. You are so brave, and you can do this, my sweet Boo" I say through my tears. I don't know who I was trying to convince; her or me. I tell her to stand up against the wall so I can take a picture of my brave girl on her first day.

After a few more hugs and stifled tears, she agrees to go back in. I grab my dumb red bag and race out before she can change her mind. She waves to me as she is wiping her eyes, and I go. Hurdle three; crash and burn.

Oh, how I hate Kindergarten. Really, really hate Kindergarten. I cry all the way home. Once I pick up the boys and head in the house I open up the lame red bag. Inside is an apple and a poem from her teacher. A poem just as evil as that junky Kissing Hand book. Brace yourselves.

The First Day

I gave you a wink and a little smile

As you entered my room today.

For I know how hard it is to leave

And know your child must stay.

You've been with her for five years now

And have been a loving guide,

But now, alas, the time has come

To leave her at my side.

Just know that as you drive away

And tears down your cheeks may flow

I'll love her as I would my own

And help her learn and grow.

For, as a parent, I too know

How quickly the years do pass,

For one day many years ago

I took my own child to class.

So please put your mind at ease

And cry those tears no more.

For I will love her and take her in

When you leave her at my door.

- Jamie Solley

And then it says,

An apple for the teacher

Is really nothing new

Except when you remember

Parents are teachers, too!

See? Rotten! Evil! Terrible! Isn't that the worst poem in the history of poems? Man!

We count down the minutes until it's time to get her and run to the door she'll be coming out of. It feels like forever until we see her sweet round little face again. When she finally comes out I tell her "See? It's not so bad. You had fun, right? You can do this again tomorrow". To which she shockingly replies "I have to come back tomorrow? Is it, like, every day?!?".

The rest of the week is heartbreaking. Every morning when her friends come to pick her up she tells them "I'm not going to cry today!", and I really think she believes it. She spends the walk giving herself a pep talk saying things like "You can do it. You're not going to cry. It's okay. You can do it". But every time that terrible bell rings and she has to line up, her grip on my hand tightens and the tears begin to fall. I'd tell her "You can do it. You are so brave, Boo.", but every day I have to send my crying girl in the school without me. So, so sad. Oh, Kindergarten. How I loathe you, you big jerk.

After that first week her grip began to loosen. She started allowing me to wait outside of the playground instead of lining up inside with her. And one day she actually walked to school without me. I knew she could do it. Anything she sets her little mind to, she can do. We just have to work on that little scaredy cat's nerves. Or maybe I'll just start keeping them home with me, which sounds like a pretty good plan after a week like that.

Back To School

You know I hate school, right? Really. Hate it. And every year comes new and better reasons for hating school.

This year we hate school because this is Abigail's last year of elementary school. Can you imagine? She's a sixth grader now. Queen of the campus. We hate sixth grade.

Also because it's Leah's first year of Kindergarten. Gone every day now. Still only half days, but every single day. Hate it. We hate Kindergarten. Luckily, Kindergarten starts a week after the rest of school, so at least it has that going for it. We did meet with her teacher today, though. So, it kind of started. Starting today or starting next week, we hate Kindergarten.

Bubba's in third grade, and there is really nothing good to say about third grade. We hate third grade.

When the littles and I brought the kids lunch this year, we were pleasantly surprised to see that Abigail and Harrison have lunch at the same time. They can eat together if they want (which they don't), and be on the playground together for the long recess. That makes this mom's heart happy. But, while we were all eating together I asked Abigail if she would let me bring her lunch next year on her first day of Junior High. "Uh, I don't think so, mom. Thanks anyways". Doesn't that stink?

Anyway, here are the obligatory first day of school (and first day of meeting the teacher) pictures. Even though we hate the first day of school, they are still stinkin' cute, right? And way, way too big.

Conversations with Bubba

While watering the plants in the flower beds out front, Harrison and I started up a conversation.

Me: "Oh, Bubba. Did you water the lavender? I can smell it, and it smells nice."

Bubba sticking his head in the lavender bush: "I smell it, too.".

Me: "Here. Take some of the purple pieces off and squish them in your hands. People use the oil from these and make soap and stuff because it smells so nice."

Bubba: "Mom? Did they have soap when you were little?"

Me, dumbfounded: "Uh, yeah."

Bubba: "And did they have lavender that long ago, too?"

Me: "That long ago, huh? Yep, they had lavender, too."

Bubba excitedly: "I didn't know pioneers had soap and lavender!"

And there goes my ego.

Leah's gradulations

None of the kids have ever been able to say graduation. It has always come out gradulations, which seems a bit appropriate, I think. But, I never thought the day of my Boo's gradulations would come.

She mastered preschool, it seems. And so they've gone and promoted her to Kindergarten, much to my dismay. We've loved that preschool. Right up the street, with a drive through drop off and pick up. A drive through! Plus, they did a craft every single day. That's what did it for Leah when we were school shopping. We walked through her soon to be preschool where she saw paints, sponges, and stamped zebra and giraffe cut outs hanging from the ceiling and that was the school for her. She started her preschool career a shy, timid little thing who gathered up all her courage and walked through the front door all by herself. She ended it as a grown up 5 year old who could read and write, and loved to do it. My Boo, the smartypants.

The gradulation ceremony was one for the books. With a slide show set to songs like "You're Gonna Miss This", and "You Make Me Smile", the emotions were high that evening. Have you heard that "You're Gonna Miss This" song? Seeing pictures of my Leah up on the giant screen with that song playing hurt my heart. Oh, the tears. I am going to miss my preschool Boo.

Kindergarten, you better watch out. This one is something special and ready or not (and I'm not), here she comes.