I Pinterest; therefore, I craft.

Husband doesn't even say anything when he discovers I'm on Pinterest.  Again.  Pinning.  He just shakes his head and asks what I'm making next.  These were some of the things I made just for the holidays.

This one was gigantic and I propped it against out dining room wall.  It was also the first time I used Sharpie paint pens.  I give them a huge thumbs up.  I used my Cricut to make the stencils for the letters and it was trickier than I thought it would be to get them to line up properly.  I ended up distressing and antiquing it around the edges, but didn't take a picture before putting it away for the year.  

This one is propped in the corner of our entry way.  I LOVE IT!  I'm going to flip it over and do something on the backside for Valentine's Day.  Husband helped quite a bit with the distressing since he won't let me use his palm sander.  

This was my addition to the kitchen window.  Thank you,  Dollar Store!  I loved how the light reflected off of it and made patterns on the dining room walls.

  

My noel blocks allowed me to use up some 2x4s and scrapbook paper.  I cut the letters using my Cricut.  Instead of making husband distress the edges, I used black paint.  

Last year I bought these pink glittery snowflakes for like 10 cents in the Target clearance section.  I used more scrapbook paper and my Cricut again, but made husband distress the edges.  

This one turned out really well.  I used the handy-dandy Sharpie pens on it as well.  I also distressed the wood it with a hammer before painting it, but you can't really tell in the pics.  Talk about a great stress reliever!  

Every year, the boys make a few Christmas presents.  This one used up a lot of the buttons in my spare button stash.  We used masking take to make the tree edges crisp lines and hot glued the buttons on.  We used canvas board to make them sturdier.  (Why can't my children act normal for pics??)

And last, but not least, is a project idea I took from an art teacher friend, not Pinterest.  The grid lines are made from paper that has been water colored and has been doodled on using markers, then torn into strips.  All the words came from magazines and relate to Christmas in some way.  I matted and framed it to hang in my bathroom.  It was probably my favorite project this holiday season.  

Action We Can Take

I remember in one of my education classes, the professor said that a parent never looks at her newborn child and thinks “I sure hope he’s a loser and amounts to nothing in life.”  That same parent doesn't send her son to kindergarten thinking “I hope he fails and is a terrible student.”  Parents send schools and teachers the best thing they have: their children.  They trust us to keep their children safe and educate their minds and nurture their hearts and souls.  They trust us to care for their children when they cannot. This anecdote has returned to me many times over the years and always makes me smile for it is true.    

After hearing about yet another school shooting, this time at Sandy Hook Elementary School in Newton, Connecticut, I wanted to go pick up my babies from school and hug them tight.  Instead, I waited patiently by the window and raced to stand in the driveway as soon as their bus turned the corner.  I saw Owen first and was sobbing uncontrollably by the time Gav’s little feet touched the ground.  Over the heads of my children, I made eye contact with the bus driver and she gave me an all knowing nod as I hugged them tight.  She knew exactly what I was thinking and knew why I was waiting in the cold.  When we got inside, they both asked why I was crying and why I kept hugging them and I said sometimes there are no words to explain to children why an adult is sad. 

My first lockdown drill as a teacher was just days after the Amish school shooting in 2006.  Owen was almost three and Gav was four months old.  As I stood with my students, huddled in a dark room, I counted my blessings that they were safe in my mom’s care.  I was sobbing silently among my students wondering what I would do if I was ever in a school shooting myself.  I shed tears for the victims of such pointless tragedies and for the children that will never truly have a sense of safety in school.  Columbine changed schools forever. 

Now that my own children are in school, when we have lockdowns, I still cry because I can only imagine what it must be like to be small and trust that the adult in the room can protect you no matter what.  They have no idea how fragile life really is.  I don’t want any children to grow up afraid- much less worry about being safe at school.  I cry, because I don’t know what I would do if I was the one that had to protect innocent children.  I cry, because I never want to find out what I would do.  I cry, because I hope that my own children’s teachers are braver than I am. As a teacher, I'm angry beyond all belief that someone destroyed the safe haven school is for so many yet again.  And for the people that don't believe we need tighter gun control, please save your argument for someone else. Until you've sat in a classroom with crying students during a lockdown drill, I honestly don't want to hear what you have to say.

As a mother, my heart breaks for the families in Connecticut.  What will the 20 mothers and fathers of the victims do this Christmas?  For what can they be thankful?  What will they do with the presents that are undoubtedly wrapped and ready to be put under the tree?  The magic of the holidays was torn away by a selfish man with abandon much like the wrapping paper from presents on Christmas morning.  I’m left asking, like so many, “How could he?  How could he hurt a room full of vibrant, smiling faces?” 

I can only hope and pray that from this tragedy, some good may come.  I stood watching President Obama address our nation with tears flowing down my face.  He’s right; we do need to take meaningful action.  We may not win the battle to remove guns from the hands of people intent on harming others, but we can take action in other ways.

• We can batter equip our schools with safety measures to make entering them more difficult. 
• We can throw off the “It doesn’t impact me, so why should I care?” attitude.   Be aware.  Don’t ignore the red flags.
• We can focus on what is most important: our children.  Love them, guide them, and keep them away from the media.  Let them be children.  Don’t expose them to adult topics like this.  For if you do, more of the magic of childhood will vanish for them. 
• Thank the teachers and staff members that work hard to make sure your children and grandchildren are well cared for at school.  
• Send cards and letters to Sandy Hook Elementary (12 Dickenson Dr, Sandy Hook, CT 06482) to remind them we are in this with them and we will not rest until schools are safe again.  

 These are actions we can take now.  

The holidays

The holidays are supposed to be filled with peace, love, fun, and family traditions.  At least that’s what I read in magazines and peoples’ Facebook statuses.  Homes are supposed to have perfect trees, the aroma of freshly baked cookies, and stockings hung with care in hopes that St. Nick soon will be there. 

But let’s get real here.  Not all families are worthy of a made for TV movie and that’s exactly why I’m venting, I mean writing, today.  Let’s face it; there are more dysfunctional families akin to the Parkers in A Christmas Story or the Griswolds in Christmas Vacation than we all care to admit.  Chances are many of our own families could probably give them a run for the money on any given day.

I think it is important for all to realize the following:

·         The holidays aren't about mauling people on Black Friday to get a good deal.  Guess what?  You can shop online in your pajamas and get the same deals.

·         As far as presents go, don’t ask what someone wants if you have no intention of buying anything on their list.  Always defer to the parents.  If they say their kid is saving for something big, help the kid out and give them a gift card to help them reach his/her goal.

    

·         No one wants to read status update after status update about your inflated happiness (and on the flip side, misery) during the holidays.  Did you know that it has been documented that over posting about your happiness (or misery) is a way of over compensating for what your life lacks?  Yep, true story.   That being said, please post realistic updates.  If your great grandma nearly caught the house on fire, post about it.  If your sweet nephew ran around in a tutu playing with Barbie, post about it.  Post about the things that made the moment memorable.  Be real.  Be honest.

·         Warning: This is a hard one.  Not all families get along.  And you know what, that’s okay.  Cherish those you want to spend time with and don’t worry about the others.  That’s bound to upset those that want everyone all together, but seriously, if it doesn't matter the other 364 days of the year, does it really matter on Christmas?  Take some advice from Cindy Lou Lou Who of Grinch fame, “I don't need anything more for Christmas than this right here: my family.”  Real family is comprised of those that are those that are there for you all 365 days. 

·         And last but not least, green bean casserole is gross.

Do you have advice for your fellow holiday revelers?  

Fair warning.

See that button over there?  On the left?  The one that says “Be nice to me or I’ll blog about you”?  Yep, I mean it and it also applies to being nice to my little family.  Just like a Texan may say “Don’t mess with Texas (or I’ll take my toys/barbeque/guns and go home or secede the union)" or something equally cliché, I feel the same.  Mess with my family and Lord help you.      

My kid's pen pal is the President.

So, I imagine some children out there might mention writing someone famous, but never really do.  Last night, Owen got the idea in his head that he wanted to write Obama and I told him we would this afternoon.  I was half expecting him to forget, but Owen is not like most kids.  He decided his letter would look "more professional if it was typed" and being the good mom I am, I served as his secretary.  This was his letter and I can't tell you how proud I am of him for it!

Dear President Obama,

            My name is Owen and I’m eight.  I have a little brother named Gavin who is six.  I was born on December 27, 2003, so I’m not old enough to vote for you yet.  Even though I’m too young to vote, I would pick you if I could vote. 

I think that wind power and solar power are better than Mitt Romney’s ideas.  His ideas will mean less oxygen and less places for people to hike, jog, and enjoy nature.  I’ve hiked over 50 miles in the Smoky Mountain over the past two summers.  I’ve hiked Mount LeConte, Ramsey Cascade Falls, Chimney Top, and a whole bunch of other trails.  I love hiking!  Do you?  If Romney is elected, I’m worried he will ruin places like the Smokys. 

Also, I don’t want Romney to be elected because he said some people shouldn’t go to college just because their parents can’t afford to send them.  When my mom explained the story we heard on NPR about this, it made me cry.  My mom is a teacher and my dad is a distribution supervisor.  They want to be able to pay for my college, but it is really expensive.  I get all As and A+s right now and don’t want to change that.  If I get all As on all my report cards, I want to go Notre Dame.  I know I’d need scholarships and student loans to go there!  Romney’s ideas would make my dream impossible.  That’s just not fair.

Romney is not very nice.  I didn’t like how he interrupted during the debates.  That’s very rude and bad manners.  I think you are better mannered than him.  If Romney was president, other countries would not like us very much because they’d think all Americans were rude. 

I want you to work hard so you get reelected.  We put up an Obama sign in our yard and I can’t wait for my parents to vote at my school in a few weeks.  My parents also donated to your campaign.  Please tell Mrs. Obama and your daughters hi.  Good luck!

                                                            From,

                                                                        Owen  

P.S.  What is your favorite holiday?  Mine is Christmas.

P.P.S.  What types of cars do you have?  My parents have a Ford, Chrysler, and Volkswagen. 

Contrary to what some may say, this letter was indeed written by my eight year old.  Owen is an amazing child who has a keen interest in our world.  I feel blessed that we are able to provide our children with experiences that allow them to travel, visit museums, and more.  Owen realizes how blessed he is and he recognizes his success is a team effort.  Beyond our family, his extended Taekwondo family (he’s a belt below black), teachers, mentors, and friends have helped shape him into the young man he is today.  While our family has definite liberal leanings, we have taught our children to look at both sides of each issue and make a decision based on what they think is best.  I must say, it makes my heart leap a little when he makes the choice that betters all, not just a minority.  Just recently, he penned not just one, but five post cards all by himself encouraging people to vote for Glenda Ritz for our State Superintendent of Education.  Why?  Because he wanted people to know he’s more than a test score and deserves a quality public education.  Who knows?  Maybe in another 30+ years, he will be the one hoping to make the Oval Office his office.  

What does it mean to be green?

Owen was asking recently about the differences in the presidential candidates' energy plans.  He's a very green child and will pick up any piece of litter he encounters.  He recycles or reuses everything he can.  Want someone to help you plant something?  He’s your go to kid.  When we made our rain barrel, he was the one who set up extra buckets in the backyard to collect more rain water.  He’s a kid after my own tree hugging heart. 

Anyhow, I did some research for him and found this article, which summed it all up quite well.  http://www.smartplanet.com/blog/energy-futurist/obama-vs-romney-who-has-the-best-energy-plan/573 Now, I realize Owen’s only in third grade, but he does have a seventh grade reading level and is pretty smart.  (No, that’s not the mom in me talking; it is the teacher of sophomores that don't read as well.)  He read parts of the article all on his own and his consensus was “Romney just doesn't get what is means to be green.”  Yep, an eight year old gets what a grown man doesn't. 

Here was the quote we found most interesting:  By 2050, we’ll be grateful for every last kilowatt-hour we can produce from renewable free fuels. And the “debate” about climate change will be long gone, replaced by a frantic quest for survival and adaptation.

In 2050, my children will be 46 and 44.  Their own children, my grandchildren, will probably be close to middle school age.  I want nothing more than for them to be able to experience the outside as Owen and Gavin have.  I want them to be able to hike Mount LeConte, to swim in the Atlantic, to climb the Dunes, and more.  I don’t want them to be in a “frantic quest for survival and adaptation.” 

A final statement from Owen: Do we really want the imagined world of The Lorax to come true?  Because it will if we don’t all take care of our planet.   (Gosh, I love this kid.)

You need a reflector.

Dear Lady Runner, 

I'm really glad you're interested in all the health benefits of running. However, I have a little advice. Running at 6:00 am is not a good idea if you're going to wear all black and no reflective clothing. See, when I pulled over to hurl on the side of the road on my way in to make sub plans, I totally wouldn't have done it right in front of you if I had seen you. Second, 

I thought you were a member of the zombie apocalypse coming out of the shadows to kill me. That adrenaline rush was almost as bad as the heaving and I really hope you missed my pile of puke, but my hunch based on your yell was that you didn't. So, what did we learn from all this? Get yourself some snazzy reflectors AND a flashlight. You never know what you may run through.

Sincerely,
Me

How old is a customer?

At what age can one technically shop and be considered a customer?  So, here’s the scenario:  I was at a local craft store and in line behind a mom and her son.  He was probably 9 or 10.  Anyhow, he was buying a Star Wars model to assemble and had a 50% off coupon.  While we were waiting, I was chatting with him because Gav has the same model.

 

When it was his turn, he sat his purchase down, along with his coupon, and waited to be rung up with his Batman wallet in hand.  The cashier asked the mom if she also had a coupon and she replied she did.  The cashier then went on to say that only one of them could use a coupon, because he wasn’t old enough to shop alone.  The store policy is only one coupon per customer per day and he wasn’t considered a customer because he wasn’t old enough to be one- never mind the fact he had money in hand.  The boy sighed and told his mom he’d wait to buy his model.  His mom asked if she could pay for her stuff and wait outside while he paid, and she was still told no.  The boy insisted it was no big deal and his mom bought her stuff, telling him she’d have his dad bring him back later to buy the model.  I even asked if I could buy it, but because I too had a coupon, it didn’t make a difference. 

When it was finally my turn, I asked the cashier how old one has to be to be considered a customer.  She said she didn’t know, but if a person can’t drive yet, they probably aren’t old enough.  Being slightly annoyed by the situation, I told her my mom doesn’t drive.  Knowing that, does that mean she isn’t a customer?  You could tell she was getting flustered and was glad my purchase was bagged so I’d leave. 

On the way out I met the boy, his mom, and a friend she ran into in the parking lot.  Guess what?  Friend was buying the model with the boy’s money and coupon, while mom watched from the door.  The cashier still tried to refuse it!  At that point, I was about to buy the kid the model myself just on principle, when up came the manager.  Amazingly enough with a manager standing nearby, the cashier dropped the issue, rang up the model, took the coupon, and cash. 

I guess my whole issue with the scenario is here we have a mom who is teaching her son by example about managing money.  It wasn’t like she was trying to commit some huge coupon fraud or hoarding 50 bottles of ketchup.  And I’m still annoyed by the fact I never did get a real answer on how old one has to be to be considered a customer.