It was a labor of love last weekend (or I'd like to imagine) as we put up six Christmas trees in our house. Why so many? I don't know. Of all the Christmas traditions, decorating the tree is probably my favorite. And if one tree is good, six trees must be great, right? Holiday cheer knows no bounds...

I had a lot of help, with thanks mainly going to out to Brian and Jay. I'm happy to report that Scotty was less of a liability this year and offered a tiny bit of assistance, but more on that later. But I really have to recommend the strength of two adult males, because I don't think I could have lifted the box of the nine-foot tree by myself, let alone had the energy for the other five. Not to mention, removing the boxes from the overhead garage shelving causes me a great deal of vertigo so the two guys were worth their weight in gold. Aside from the sheer muscle, watching two Georgetown Law alums debate and negotiate how to best and most effectively string the lights was a comedy show in and of itself. They brought out pencils, did calculations, there was heated arguments on both sides...it was great. Never had Christmas decorations been so thoughtfully handled.

With that said, here we go...

Tree #1: The Formal Tree. This one is the "fancy" tree with the breakable ornaments. It sits in the window of the living room and lights up the whole area. I love it. But don't touch it. Ever. Don't even get close to it. 

Tree #2: The Nostalgic Tree.  Complete with ornaments filled with pictures, some used to belong to my grandma, and others just that evoke happy memories, this tree is definitely my favorite.  Though it's not necessarily the prettiest, it's the warmest.

Tree #3: The Packer Tree. We kept it up all year and stored it in Scotty's loft, so it's a little worse for wear. Kinda like the Packers themselves. Sorry, Brian.

Trees #4 & 5:  The Late-Addition Trees. Maybe you'd call this cheating, but these trees were an impulse buy at Target and do not have ornaments. They are more modern and don't really fit with our traditional decor, but they were so cute - and so easy to put up - that I had to buy them. $20 each and set up was all of 4 minutes. Whimsical AND practical - and so soarkly. Mmm, sparkle.

And finally...

Tree #6: The Bear's Tree. This tree was also a last minute addition, but it's the one I'm most proud of. I don't know what sparked the idea, but we decided that Scotty needed his own tree this year. We told him he could buy one, and so the four of us set off for Target early Saturday morning after filling our faces with doughnuts and coffee.

I decided to take the idea one step further and suggest Scotty pick out everything himself - the tree, the garland, the lights, and the first ornament. I figured he could put the inevitable homemade school ornaments on this tree - I have a feeling there will be many - and feel like he has a stake in this whole holiday season, too.

We've never really given a three-year old carte blanche in the holiday section before, but I highly, highly recommend it. What they come up with will surprise you.

Scotty picked out a pre-lit three footer with colored lights, green and red garland, a non-lit star topper, and a silver tree skirt. He complimented it with plastic Santa lights and a tiny metal helicopter ornament.

I'll be honest - these adornments would not have been my first choice. They would not have even been second, third, fourth, or twenty-seventh. But you know, the kid adores this tree. He demands we turn it on every morning and then gently hugs it good night every night. I'm planning to leave a little surprise in the form of one Matchbox car under the tree each morning from Santa to get him excited about the big day each day in December.

So while I look at those plastic Santa lights and shudder silently, I can honestly say, there is nothing more magical than looking at Christmas trees through the eyes of a child.

Happy (almost) December, folks! 

I posted this entry a few weeks ago. I got quite an interesting response. In case you are curious, here is the update:

Holiday cards?

Check.

Did all of the Christmas trees go up? Successfully?

Heck yeah.

What about the rest of the holiday decorations?

Yup. Check that off the list, too.

And clothing for the many December functions?

Organized and ready to go.

Well, you must have had a really awful Thanksgiving then, right?

Actually, no. It was fantastic. I ran the Turkey Trot in my best time to date (27:57) and having Uncle Jay with us was beyond fun. I skipped Black Friday shopping because the allure of Jay making homemade pumpkin pancakes was too great to resist.

I recaptured some serious ground on Cyber Monday, however, and am about 70% done with holiday shopping.  The last item on my list is, as always, what to get Brian. Any suggestions? He's incredibly difficult to shop for, as every year when asked, he responds, "GM of the Green Bay Packers." I have no idea how to even wrap that.

I am most pleased that all of this prep work has allowed us the chance to sit back and just enjoy the holiday season. That was my main goal all along. This time of year is so fun, and with young kids, it becomes downright magical. I want to really be able to soak up the warmth and experience the joy of the season without frantically jumping from one to-do list to another. I'm happy to report, I think we may have **mostly** succeeded. Fingers crossed!

What about you? How are your holidays plans coming along?

Happy negative December 2nd, everyone!

It's that time again...wreath time!

For Christmas, the site I follow (babyrabies.com) made a very cute reindeer wreath out of tulle.  Scotty is obsessed with singing "Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer" over and over again (we had to buy him a CD just to quiet him down), so I thought this one would be a big hit with the three-and-under crowd. Sure enough, the Bear adores his tulle creation and says good-night to it before he goes up his bath. Because of some of the materials, I would recommend you keep this an indoor wreath, particularly if you live in colder climates. We hung ours on the door to his secret closet. (And I got to hang my fancy not-homemade wreath on the front door, complete with matching, lighted swag).

As you can see, this wreath is essentially the same format as the last two, with just a few cosmetic changes. You will need:

about 5 (not 50!) yards of brown tulle
a 14" foam wreath
brown yarn
styrofoam balls (small)
black acrylic paint
Thin red ribbon (about a yard)
a red ball (I poached mine from Scotty's toy chest; if you don't have    
    kids/dogs/lots of balls laying around, you could always paint a small
    styrofoam ball red)
floral wire or a floral pin
foam board
a thick black marker
glue gun

Paint the eyes first; they will need time to dry.

Start wrapping the foam wreath with brown yarn (I used the same stuff from the turkey wreath.) I secured a tiny piece on each side with hot glue and just started wrapping. This is really boring so make sure you have a good movie on. You'll want to do about 1/8 of the total wreath.

After cutting the tulle with into 12" pieces, start tying it on the wreath that is not covered by yarn. Eventually, you'll get the whole thing covered. There should be no white showing.

For the antlers, I just free-drew them on the foam board and then cut out the pieces with my Exact-o knife. Considering how much I dislike working with foam board, you'll want a serious tool to cut through that crap. Scissors don't work and leave too many rough edges.

After the antlers were cut out, I traced the edges with black marker and tried very hard to not get high off the fumes. (yuck). Using your glue gun, glue each antler to either side of the "head" on the back of the wreath. It's okay if they are a little crooked - this is a weird looking reindeer to begin with.

Make a tiny red bow with your red ribbon and glue it to the bottom of where the face should go. I needed more ribbon because I made a fluffy bow, the kind you see on floral arrangements. If you don't know how to do this, don't stress - just make a regular bow and glue it on.  If you want bonus points, attach little bells to the ends of the ribbon so it jingles every time the door moves. Add the eyes (I cut a floral pin in half and then jammed them in) and glue the nose on. And with that...you're done! Easy as pie.

FYI: I found my wreath hanger at Target. It was one of the those day-after Christmas great bargains. It definitely takes the stress out of using ribbon to hang the wreath. And it jingles, which makes the Bear happy.

Turkey staring,
Turkey looking.
This year, I'm so glad
I am not cooking.

Turkey saving,
Turkey wasting.
The pre-fixed menu at Public House
includes a beer tasting!

Turkey small package,
Turkey Boston crab.
Scotty is SO excited to wrestle
with Uncle Jay and Dad.

(those are wrestling moves for those of you who do not have a Brian in your house)

Turkey calories,
Turkey weigh.
I'm so happy to burn off dinner
with a quick 5K.

(let's be honest; the race is not even going to touch the appetizers, let alone burn off all of dinner. Did I mention I'm thankful for Boot Camp?)

Turkey good,
Turkey GREAT!
In less than two weeks,
my mom will become the newest (temporary) resident of the Silver       
     State!

Turkey wager,
Turkey bet.
Thanksgiving means only one thing:
Is it December yet?!

Happy Turkey Day, dear readers! Hope you have a great holiday with you and yours.

Please excuse me while I geek out for the next several moments, but I need to pay homage to this awesome show. Over the last few weeks, I've found myself having something like a Walking Dead hangover on Monday; I just can't get the show out of my head. I dream about it Sunday night, I think about it all day Monday, and then usually by Tuesday, it's dissipated. So today, instead of just limping through my usual existence, I'm going to put my thoughts on paper and invite any of you who may be also ruminating on "The Walking Dead" to feel free to comment at the end. We can all be geeks and love zombies together, right?

And just FYI: if you are not completely caught up with the show, and by that, I mean you have seen up through Season 3, Episode 6, than this blog will contain spoilers. If you are new to the phenom or still working through the first few seasons, there is a good chance reading this will ruin a few great surprises in store for you. And trust me, they are worth it. So either stop reading or know that the effect of the show will be lessened if you know what happens.

Okay, with that disclaimer out of the way, let's talk about zombies! Where to start...

The phone call. What did you all think of that? I was a little surprised who was on the other line, and quite honestly, it felt a little contrived. I understand it was part of the graphic novel (which I have read none of, so everything is new to me), but it felt like one of those "they need to handle this carefully or the show will jump the shark" kind of moments. Like, if it was a real person, the likelihood of someone just calling numbers while Rick just happens to be standing by a phone is incredibly unlikely. And then the flip-side - Rick is starting to lose his mind and is imagining all of this - might signal the beginning of the end. Honestly, I don't want to watch Rick descend into mental madness; I want to watch him be a strong leader and kill zombies and be the hero. I was so, so thankful that the show pulled itself together (just like newly-showered Rick) by the end of the episode and he *seems* to have rejoined the Land of the Mostly Sane People. How cute was it when he was holding his daughter? Thank you for finally acknowledging your daughter!

Is she really named Kick-Ass?

And I don't know about you, but I'm still not 100% over Lori's death. I was a staunch member of the "I Hate Lori" fan club, but now that she's gone, I just feel so, you know, empty. I kinda miss her. And I wish Carl had a mom. He's been through so much and the manner in which she died - ugh. Stupid bloated zombie (who, for a second, I totally thought was Lori, which meant Carl was not able to shoot her. Eek! The only thing worse thank Living Lori is Walker Lori.) Gotta love Carl though - Daryl's attempted to commiserate with the little guy about lost mothers and Carl's all like, "Sorry you lost your mom. I shot mine in the head." End of story. I think Carl won this round.

Speaking of Daryl, can I just give a slow clap for the writers of this show? Daryl Dixon: this is how you do character development. From being a lone angry, white-trashy wolf to being the guy who holds - and feeds - the tiny, helpless, motherless baby, I think ovaries all across America exploded with joy. The guy has morphed into the anti-hero's anti-hero. Rick turns to him for advice. He's killer with that cross bow. He knows how to drive a Harley AND care for a newborn all while forging for some possum for dinner. I mean, Daryl's got it going on. Oh - and he found Carol! YAY CAROL!! She survived! I think the only thing that could take Daryl down is his stupid, sociopathic brother Merle.

Merle. The Governor. The whole town of Woodbury. Brian and I have very, very different views on this situation, but Brian has read the comics, so he knows more than I do. And while I CANNOT STAND Andrea, I have to admit - I think I would have stayed. I mean, yes, we as viewers know about the questionable aquarium, the zombie daughter, and the military, but Andrea and Michonne do not. I still don't know what spooked Michonne so much to leave as quickly as she did (other than she just prefers to fly solo in a zombie apocalypse), but isn't Woodbury exactly what those in the prison are trying to create? A safe place to live and work? And yes, that safety may be an illusion at this point, but if you had a newborn baby, wouldn't you do anything in your power to keep your child safe, even if it meant having to live with a guy like the Governor? Who - by the way - at this point, hasn't really done that-that much to convince me he's like, a super baddie. I mean, Lori was sleeping with Shane three weeks after the world fell apart and Rick killed his best friend. Having a fish tank full of dead walker heads is really small potatoes in my eyes. Maybe he just has questionable taste in decorating.

As for Michonne, I about died when she approached the prison with the baby formula. During the whole scene with Merle (gah! Hate him!) and Glen and Maggie, I was shouting at the TV, "What about the baby? You have to get back to the baby!" Maybe I'm a bit sensitive about feeding a newborn since I've already considered writing the show to inquire about how they are checking on Kick-Ass's bilirubin levels, but that kid has got to eat. Period. If I were Glen and Maggie, I would have brought Merle back to the prison to see Daryl, dropped off the formula, and then figured out a way to get rid of Merle. I mean, between Rick and his gang of elite killers, they could figure something out, right?

So imagine my delight when the lovely Michonne was thoughtful enough to bring the baby food, despite the fact she wreaked of zombie entrails (which kept her safe - who else forgot about that little factoid?) I just love how the writers have slowly been positioning the characters like chess pieces for their eventual meet-up, with Rick and the Governor sure to find each other soon. Michonne now knows about the prison. Glen and Maggie made it to Woodbury. Andrea has a connection to everyone but is too busy to care since she's having a post-coital cigarette in the Governor's bedroom. Have I mentioned how much I dislike her? She reminds me of that friend that is like, dying to get married and have kids but can't figure out why none of her relationships work out. You just want to take her by the shoulders and shake her and say, "STOP DATING SOCIOPATHS!" She's like the Taylor Swift of this show. Not saying Andrea is eager to settle down and start a family, but c'mon. She's got an eye for picking really bad guys.

And with that said, Brian and I had this discussion last night: why is it a big deal for the Governor and Rick to meet? My view point is that Woodbury is exactly what the baby needs - security, food, a crib. Maybe a baby toy. (Thank you, Maggie, for the duck!) Brian postulates that Rick is exactly the type of guy that the Governor hates, because he represents a threat to his authority. Brian believes the Governor will likely kill Rick simply to get rid of him, like he did with the military guys. I then asked this: can Rick take a "one-down" to the Governor's authority and just go with the flow, for the safety of little Kick-Ass? It's interesting to note that our argument is clearly defined by gender roles. Even in the zombie apocalypse, my only concern is that baby. I would do anything, including change my personality and beliefs, in order to protect my child. I would keep my mouth shut and hope for a sweet little one-bedroom apartment in Woodbury. Maybe I would grow tired of the Governor's rule, but I wouldn't get involved with any rebellion movements until the child was older. And then, that show is now called "The Hunger Games."

I wonder, are all women are like this? I asked Brian if he would be able to not be the Alpha male if it meant security for the child, and he wasn't sure. Are women just more morally and socially flexible when their families are at stake? Is it just me? Or maybe it's because I would much rather be tending flower beds than running from zombie herds?

So what are your thoughts? I didn't get a chance to cover T-Dawg's death, Herschel's stump, zombie fight club, or that awesome scene where Michonne decapitates a living human being, so please share away! What would your role in the zombie apocalypse be? And would you live in Woodbury, or is Woodbury a town where what happens in Woodbury, stays in Woodbury?

We have a guest blogger today! My very sweet friend Erika agreed to share some of her stories as a parent of identical twin toddler girls. She and her family are relatively new to Vegas; we met this summer as we watched our kids splash around in the shallow end of the pool. I was initially charmed by her daughters' adorable personalities (one was trying to drown the other; this is amusing to everyone except the parents), but then she disclosed she is originally from Indiana and I was all, "OMG! Now we totally have to be friends." Not only is she a Hoosier, but she is also wickedly funny and shares the same dry sense of humor about the challenges and awakenings of Parenthood. Here, she examines the trials of potty training a deux and how she eventually found hope in the most unlikely of places.

Potty Training Times Two

I’m not one for bathroom humor, but I do want to talk about something no one else will: potty training twins. Certainly there’s no dearth of advice for potty training one child, but when it comes to twins, I’ve found zilch. Even my twin parenting books are silent on the matter, jumping directly from chapters about transitioning to solid foods to those on preparing for kindergarten. But if it’s true what they say and no one starts kindergarten in diapers, clearly there’s an information gap here.

I’d been dreading the inevitable potty-training milestone since my identical twin daughters, Zoe and Yael, hit 18 months old and Baby Center began e-mailing me newsletters entitled, “Early Potty Training: Is Your Child Ready?” My daughters were not ready, as neither of them had expressed any interest beyond throwing the occasional Sesame Street figurine *into* the toilet. But still I knew the day would come. It had to. As Elmo says in the film Elmo’s Potty Time (perhaps the most significant contribution to our modern-day potty-training canon), “Everyone learns to use the potty sooner or later.” Which means even twins. (Case in point, my ninth grade boyfriend was a twin, and though he was by no means the brightest bulb in the box—by several watts—he was in fact potty trained.) So what was the trick for training, times two?

 Many of my singleton parent friends touted the success of a three-day “boot camp” approach. From what I understand, you strip your child naked from the waist down and let them pee on themselves for two full days, and by the end of the third day, they are potty trained. I did consider this, since we were at the time renting a house with hardwood floors. But rental or not, the thought of me chasing two naked toddlers through the house with paper towel and a Swiffer Wetjet made me physically ill.  

Opting for a more low-key approach (or better yet, hoping the girls might decide to potty train themselves), I stuck a pink princess potty in their bathroom a few days after their second birthday and prayed the peer pressure of preschool might push them in the right direction. For several weeks, the girls alternated between pushing the potty up and down the hallway and wearing it on their heads like a hat. Then one spring day, Yael did ask to “go pee-pee in the potty.” She asked the day before we left Memphis to drive 1500 miles cross-country to our new home in Las Vegas. I suggested she hold that thought.

By the time August rolled around, I was out of excuses and knew the time had come to launch Operation Train the Twins. I laid in supplies: one Elmo’s Potty Time DVD (of course); a number of girl-specific potty training books; three princess potties and a random green potty my husband picked out “just to mix it up” (side note: no one liked the green potty and it soon became just a stool);  two cushioned potty seats (one Sesame Street and one Disney Princess); a Costco box of Pull-Ups; every make and model of toddler underwear including thick cotton training pants, plastic training pants, regular underwear, and plastic covers to put over the regular underwear; one bottle of Woolite carpet cleaner/ pet stain remover; one box of donuts and a giant bag of Skittles (I’m a stress eater, don’t judge).  

 I kicked off Day One with a morning “sit” on the potty and a dramatic reading of Princess of the Potty, followed by the first of what would become daily screenings of Elmo’s Potty Time. I also whisked a plastic-pants wearing Yael to the potty every 20 minutes. Yael was my primary focus during this initial stage for a number of reasons, but mostly because I thought maybe I could get away with potty training like the singleton parents do—one at time. Also I had hopes that either (a) Zoe would catch on and potty train herself or (b) Yael would catch on and then train her sister without my involvement.

A few days in, it seemed clear neither of these scenarios would take shape. Zoe regarded potty training as Yael’s “thing” and wasn’t too interested in joining. Meanwhile Yael seemed irritated that she was the only one called to abandon the Little People farm to take a potty break. I had no choice but to level the playing field and get everyone on board. And so it was I found myself potty training both twins at the same time.

How is potty training twins harder than potty training one child? I’m not entirely sure, since having twins is all I know, but I can share a few quandaries twin parents face that maybe singleton parents haven’t considered. For instance…

·         What do you do at the park when one child has to go NOW and her twin is sprinting for the hills?

·         In a situation where there’s only one potty and two toddlers who have to go, how do you decide who’s most desperate and who could maybe hold it for a couple minutes?

·         What do you do when you’re in a public restroom precariously holding one two-year-old on the potty and the other one crawls under the door into the neighboring stall?

·         What do you do when you have one twin on the potty trying to go number 2 and the other one keeps coming in with toys to coax her sister off the potty?

·         When both twins are on the potty  in two separate bathrooms (one upstairs, one downstairs), how do you keep one from climbing off the potty into the bathroom sink and finger painting on the mirror with toothpaste while you check on her sister?

August was a dark, difficult time as I grappled with these and other maddening dilemmas. I spent my days shuttling the girls to the potty every 20 minutes, often getting there too late. During naptimes, I’d shove Skittles into my mouth, pace the kitchen, restrategize. It seemed like one day we’d take a huge leap forward; the next, several steps back. I wondered if I should give up, if I’d started too soon, if I should stop and try again in six weeks?

 One day I found myself inexplicably weeping during Elmo’s Potty Time as Elmo sang, “Boys do it, girls do it, big kids all around the world do it.” I realized then that Elmo wasn’t just talking to the toddlers; Elmo was talking to the parents. His message of hope and encouragement—to soldier on with potty training, because everyone can learn to use it, even total morons (I paraphrase, but that’s what he means)—wasn’t just for little ears. It was for mine.  And I heard him loud and clear.  Operation Train the Twins carried on.

Eventually the every-20-minute potty breaks became every 30 minutes became every 45 minutes became an hour. Preschool resumed the last week of August. Yael started the first week in thick cotton training pants, Zoe in Pull-Ups. By the second week, they were both in regular underwear all day. By mid-September, we’d returned to a pretty normal life.

We’re still not there yet. It’s been three months and we’re still very much “potty training” versus “potty trained.” But we’ll get there; we’re getting there. The trick to training two at a time, I’m learning, is just that—time.  

I've decided that in order to not only survive the holidays this year, but actually have fun during the mad rush, there is only one option:

Sacrifice November.

There. I said it. Some may not agree with me, but drastic times call for drastic measures. November no longer exists; today is merely December-negative-18th to me. Tomorrow is the negative-17th, and so on.

Several factors lead me to this decision. First, I do not even remember the holidays last year. It was just a giant blur of energy, illness, lights and tinsel. We somehow landed squarely in 2012, but I'm not sure how. One thing I do remember: I did not order our holiday cards until December 14. After paying what seemed like hundreds of dollars in rush delivery charges - and then having to stuff, label, and stamp over 200 cards in a matter of 2 days - it just wasn't worth it. Not to mention, the sixteen other things that were calling for my attention also did not get done, and I don't even remember who bought what for Scotty. I think I may have sent Brian out one night to play Santa, but again, it's all a blur. Like childbirth, really. Just with fewer catheters.

Secondly, I had no contingency plan last year. I was sick from the half-marathon and then Scotty came down with the Plague the following week. My ship was completely sunk at that point, as I became more nursemaid that holiday elf. Everything I had put off suddenly got pushed back another week - and then another week - which literally sent me into a tailspin the week of Christmas.

And finally, after studying this year's calendar, we have no less than nine - 9! - events, starting from December 1 to December 23. That doesn't not even include the actual holidays of Christmas and New Year's. There are only eight weekend days between 12-1 and 12-23. We are double and tripled booked. And all of them but one require heels. I'm tired just thinking about it.

So this year, I'm taking the bull by the hours. I refuse to be the crazy lady fighting the lines at the mall on December 23rd or crying to Tiny Prints representatives days before Christmas. I've determined that someone (Greeks? Romans? Mayans?) gave us a full thirty days from the end of Halloween to the start of December, and therefore, I must to use those days wisely.

Some of you may be thinking, "What about Thanksgiving?" I love turkey (mmm) and cranberries (ahh) and stuffing (num-num!) as much as the next guy. But in all fairness, a day dedicated to food and football and laying on the couch is quite honestly the last thing I need. We have too much to do. Thanksgiving has been renamed "The Day Before Our Christmas Decorations Go Up," and Black Friday is glowing hallmarker that December is negative eight days away. And by the way - Thanksgiving is next Thursday. NEXT THURSDAY. How crazy is that? 

Stressed yet?

Must.

Keep.

Planning.

So far, I've gotten the Christmas cards done and ordered. I've purchased the stamps and stickers for the cards, and our address list is 75% complete. (there is a certain pleasure that comes with crossing people off your list, no?) The outdoor lights went up today. I've finished several easy crafts for the holidays (brief tutorial on the picture below will be posted later this week. And help me decide, are the letters cute or heinous? I can't tell at this point). I've already planned the menu for the holiday party I'm hosting and all of the vendors are confirmed. Thanks to Nordstrom's half-yearly clearance sale, I have all nine dresses picked out - with coordinating accessories and shoes, including appropriate Spanx selections- and set aside in the closet, labeled accordingly. (no, not all 9 are new but that sale certainly helped to shake things in the closet up a bit!) I am setting my alarm and going to try my  hand at being one of those Black Friday shoppers (tips are appreciated!!) Childcare is confirmed for all of the parties and yes, I have a contingency plan in place this year (in the form of my loving mother. Thanks, Mom!)

I'm making a list and checking it twice; the holidays this year better be calm and nice.

Every tiny moment I can squeeze into the day has been dedicated to getting all of this crap - I mean, fun stuff, done before December 1. Yes, you heard it here. December 1 is my deadline.

And I will make it. As God as my witness...I will make it.

Now, I'm off to bake cookies and twist some pipe cleaners into candy cane shapes. What - are you still reading this? Go get some of your own holiday stuff going! Buck up and start working!

Happy holidays everyone.

There's a bit of a back story, so be patient with me. But I promise - the outcome is a good one.

A few weeks ago we received Scotty's school pictures. They broke my heart. I mean, totally, completely ripped my heart right of out my chest cavity and them stomped on it while on the ground. My smiley, happy, ham-my toddler was staring blankly at the camera with a look of confusion behind his eyes. I knew in an instant that he was not happy he was having his picture taken, and he missed his momma. (a common theme at preschool despite that it's now November). I could barely stand to look at the photos because it caused me to tear up, so I left them face-down on a counter for several days. This actually turned out to be helpful, because on the back of the envelope, there were instructions in the event you wanted a retake.

Retake? Yes, please!

Fast forward to last night.  We were sitting down to dinner and due to a mostly disastrous trip to Costco, I had poured myself the last little bit of this really good Zin from Northern California. For whatever reason, when I finished the last sip during dinner, Scotty suddenly yelled, "Momma drank all da beer!" Brian was so overcome that he silently pounded the table as he quaked with laughter. His reaction, of course, only fueled the Bear, so Scotty kept shouting "Momma drank all da beer!" over and over again until I shot both of them dirty looks and got up to start the dishes. Boys.

And now, today. Today was Picture Retake Day. Scotty and I stood in line nervously as we watched all of the other kids pose. Was he going to smile? Was he going to protest? He looked worried, too, and clutched his ladybug closely. Finally, when it was our turn, I stood behind the photographer and tried to get him to smile. He looked only nervous and unsure of himself. "Cheese!" wasn't working, as were funny noises or bad dance moves. Finally, inspired, I told him, "Say 'da-da'!" thinking that he smiles whenever he thinks about Brian.

And so, Scotty burst into a giant smile and promptly yelled, "Momma drank all da beer!" to the mostly silent gymnasium and the startled faces of the rest of the school. I think it was still echoing when I was dragging him out by his ear.

But at least he smiled this time.

Ahh, Motherhood. A lesson in humility. Every. Single. Day. 

Happy Election Night everyone! 

Over the weekend, I made this dude:

Clearly I've found my medium. Tulle.

Anyways, while I totally wish I could take the credit for inventing this little guy all on my own, I found the idea on a blog called "Baby Rabies" (kind of like when baby fever is out of control. The author now has two children and I'm not sure she has baby rabies anymore, but the name seems to have stuck.) Jill is the one responsible for these fun tulle creations and she is about 100 million (no hyperbole) times more crafty than I am. She is also better at giving directions, so if you want to make this wreath with some good visuals, click here. If you are okay following my directions sans images, keep reading.

(sorry, I was so absorbed in tying knots on my wreath I forgot to document the experience. Brian and I were also watching "Rambo" on TV, and since it was the first time I'd ever seen it, I was kind of absorbed in the movie.)

You will need:

1 12-inch or 14-inch foam wreath
a ball of brown yarn
red, yellow, and orange tulle (about 2.5 yards each)
a foam triangle-cylinder for the beak (these are right next to the foam   
     wreaths)
foam balls for the eyes
a sheet of red foamy paper (the squishy kind. Extra points if one side is
     sticky)
Your trusty glue gun
floral pins and ribbon (if you are hanging it on a wreath hook like I did)
black and yellow acrylic paint

Okay, after you've put the children to bed and have poured yourself a healthy glass of vino, start the following:

Paint eyes on your foam balls. Set aside to dry.

Paint the foam triangular thing with yellow paint. Also set aside to dry.

Remove the plastic from the wreath, and start wrapping 1/3 of the wreath in brown yarn. This part is really boring, so I suggest watching a cheesy movie from the 80s to keep yourself from falling asleep. Wrap the yarn tightly so there is no white of the wreath showing through. You can hot glue the ends, or just wrap them with extra yarn.

Once the body of the turkey is done, begin with the tulle. You'll need about 12 inches of tulle per knot, and I alternated between 12 reds, 12 oranges, and 12 yellows. Just like with the monster wreath, simply tie each 12" piece of tulle around the wreath in a double knot. If the ends are not all even, don't fret; you can give the little guy a hair cut when you are all done. Just make sure all of the knots are even with each other and line up well.

Once the entire body of the turkey is covered in either yarn or tulle, attach the eyes. I'm no good with tooth picks, so I went to the good stuff: floral pins. Using wire cutters, I cut each pin so it was just one straight piece, and then poked it through the eye. I then jabbed it into the wreath. My eyes were a little googley (it was quite unsettling, really - the eyes seemed to follow me as I moved through the room) so I adhered them with a drop of hot glue on the back side. I lost several finger prints (again) in the process, but I'll be damned if those eyes are going to move on me.

Cut a long cord of red foam and drape it over the beak. If it's already sticky on one side, you won't need to use glue to attach it. Then, with another floral wire, poke the beak into the wreath and voila! Mr. Turkey Wreath is just about done.

We have a hook on our door, so I needed to put a ribbon on the back of my wreath in order to hang it. As I learned from the monster wreath on October, hot glue is only minimally helpful. Instead of trying to glue the ribbon on the back, I jammed more floral pins into the ribbon, and then into the back of the wreath, and you know what? That wreath isn't going anywhere. God bless floral pins.

So I hope you enjoy making a turkey wreath this season! Brian has this strange, sentimental affinity for Thanksgiving - he really feels like it gets overlooked between Halloween and Christmas. He seemed pleased that I made something that honors this holiday, which made me feel good. Even Scotty was excited to meet the turkey the next morning. I believe the exact quote was, "Oh Mom. You did some nice work!" And as we all know, pleasing a three-year old is next to impossible, so I'll take what I can get.

Happy crafting!

PS - if you want to follow me on Pinterest, I'm under "Kim Boschee." Follow me and I'll follow you!  

So yeah, I went back.

After my whole post about "The Complicated World of Pinterest," I got sucked right back into that time-draining, ridiculously difficult, though inspirational world of arts, crafts, and fish-tail braids. Once again, it started innocently enough - I just wanted to find a few new recipes for this holiday season - and pretty soon, I was pinning up a storm. Home decor? Yes please! How to disinfect a home humidifier? Well, that sounds incredibly helpful. Shower curtain rod to hold bottles under your kitchen sink? Genius!

However, I was back to Pinterest a little older and a little wiser this time. I knew that the majority of the crafts were way, way beyond my simple abilities. Anything that involved power tools, sewing, or glitter was immediately nixed. I tried to find the easiest, most basic ideas that were not only inexpensive but virtually goof-proof. And I found three good ones. And trust me, if I can do this, so can you.   

So this is how I've been spending my time lately. I have to admit, I'm kind of enjoying being so homey. And every time I log onto the "Holidays and Events" board, a tiny thrill goes through me. Only 54 days until Christmas!

Extra Sparkle on Your Holiday Tree

We all want to have a gorgeous, sparkly, "wow!" tree, right? Well, triple the sparkle by hanging mini-mirrors on the branches. Glue two mirrors back-to-back and insert a loop of floral wire for hanging. Fill the inside of your tree with the mirrors after putting on the lights but before the ornaments. The effect should be amazing.

Okay, I love this idea because it's 1.) cheap and 2.) easy. And it has the potential for a major pay off. Now that we are the proud displayers of three Christmas trees, ornaments, lights, and sparkle have become a second hobby for me. So when I saw this idea, I knew I had to try it.

So with Scotty in tow, we trotted off to Michaels and purchased six packages of mini mirrors. Each package was $1.99. I already owned a hot glue gun and floral wire, but those items are both less than $5.

While the Bear watched his favorite episode of "Mighty Machines," I broke out the trusty glue gun and got to work.

I cut each piece of floral wire different sizes, thinking I could hang them at different lengths. We don't know if this was the right thing to do until we put up the tree, so I'll keep you posted.

The hardest part was smushing the wire in the hot glue and then pressing the other mirror on to it. The glue dries quickly, so you have to act fast.

And with just a tiny bit of finangling, you end up with this:

It only took me about an hour to match up all six packages. There were different sized-mirrors, which I think will look cool, too. I had to polish each mirror (both sides) to get rid of my finger prints, but that only took a few minutes total.

I polished them, packaged them, and then promptly dropped an entire bag on the floor.

:-(

It's okay; only two mirrors broke.

Can't wait to see the sparkle on our tree! (minus those two lost souls)

                                                ******************

Homemade Potpourri

Okay, this is really basic. But it's borderline genius in its simplicity, which is why I totally love it.

Born out of necessity (as most great ideas are), I stumbled upon this idea the night after we had roasted broccoli for dinner. Everything about roasted broccoli is awesome - except the day-after smell that lingers in your house. It reminded me (lovingly) of my great-aunt Harriett's house. And while those are happy memories, I wasn't sure guests would feel the same. We can't burn candles in the house anymore as Scotty thinks they all need to be blown out immediately (Fire Marshall Bear) and that spray stuff skeeves me out. So voila - homemade potpourri was born.

All you need to do is bring a small saucepan of water to a boil, and then drop in any of the following. Feel free to combine ingredients for more of a "layered" approach. Yes folks, this is the Jo Malone of potpourri.

- whole cloves
- cinnamon sticks
- a few drops of vanilla
- a few drops of lavender
- fresh lemon peel
- fresh orange peel
- a few bay leaves

Let the items boil for a few minutes, and then turn the burner to a low simmer. Just keep adding water throughout the day.

The possibilities are endless. And it smells like you've been baking all day, but without the mess, clean-up, or calories. I declare this one a win-win!

                                              **************

Mineral Bath

And finally, in case even the thought of the holidays stress you out, here is an amazing simple, easy, and inexpensive way to relax. Just add one cup of sea salts and one cup of baking soda (I know, right?) to your bath water. Soak for 20 minutes, and I promise, you will feel rejuvenated. I did it yesterday, as I suffer through this annoying cold/virus thing, and not only did my skin feel great, but I felt surprisingly re-energized. I'm not a huge fan of baths, but I will definitely be using this one in the future.

                                                ***************

Do you have any really simple, really basic Pinterest finds that you want to share? Please let me know! I would love to try them out and/or share them with readers.