Sunday, December 25, 2011

Does God or Santa Bring the Gifts?


This morning after the church service, an older couple wanted to ask our children if Santa had come. They quietly questioned me beforehand on whether Santa was taboo in our house. Many parents in our church do not focus on Santa, as Jesus is, of course, the real reason for the season.

At our house, we love the Santa game, but the celebration of Jesus' birthday, and subsequently, the power of God, is even more real. Little Miss has it all figured out:

She rips open her stocking. With a sharp intake of breath, she cried out, "I got what I wanted!" and held up a small toy. "God must've told Santa! He must know him!"

"Oh, yeah." I said, "God knows everybody. How do you think he told him? A burning bush? An angel?"

"An angel," her older brother said, and looked down, focusing on his toys again.

But Little Miss exclaimed, "He knows his number!" and made the telephone hand gesture against her face.

******

So Little Miss knows who to ask for things, whether a small toy or big need. He will always provide, and will use any means necessary....even Santa!

Be blessed this Christmas - I know we are!

Friday, December 23, 2011

Merry Christmas!


As I was rushing around today in a panic, finishing cake orders, preparing our own food, and listing all of things I haven't done, I look over at a plant sitting beside the washer. It is my grandma's Christmas Cactus and it is in full bloom. It made me take a breath, and wonder what grandma would be like on a day like today. She'd probably be frantic, too, actually!

Take care this weekend everyone! Safe travels and all that! And if it doesn't turn out the way you planned - don't tell anybody!

Tuesday, December 20, 2011

The Periwinkle Blues


These homemade slippers sum up my day. I feel like I have two left feet, am lopsided, and a little blue, verging on periwinkle.

It really has nothing to do with my sewing skills, although Little Miss insists I should stick to baking.

Friday, December 16, 2011

Don't You Bully Me!!

Last night, during a wonderful Christmas dinner for the women in our church, I told of an altercation with Little Miss at school. Even after an anti-bullying rally, and several lessons dealing with bullies, she was "roughed up" by another child her age.

As I spoke, there were women at our table that were outraged, and suggested many ways that I should handle the situation. Those of us, however, who knew Little Miss, were not too worried.

At the age of five, she is already the type to take control of every situation, and is absolutely fearless. I often picture her directing students and teachers out of the building during a fire or bomb scare, and making friends with the fire chief at the same time.

There was a time this summer that she 'told off' an older boy for picking on her brother:

"You want me to do that to you?" she yelled across the beach, as the boy constantly splashed my son. "Oh, no," I thought, "What is she going to do now?" Luckily his mom came and dragged him away.

So it seems, promptly after being bullied, my little toughy stormed into the hallway, grabbed three different teachers, including the vice-principal and demanded retribution. The teachers reassured her that justice would be served, everything documented, and, of course, that she did the right thing. By the time she told me what happened, she'd already got everyone on the job. I almost felt sorry for the other student. Almost.

I did pop in to the office this morning just to make sure I had all of the facts straight. After speaking with the vice-principal, I knew he was a kindred spirit, and recognized that small fear in his eye. I wonder if he was afraid of what I was going to say. What does a parent look like who has such a child?

I think he needs to meet Mr. Man.

Thursday, December 15, 2011

Man vs. Futon


Good morning! Just a quick post. Here's a photo of Mr. Man putting together a futon for Christmas company. Can you spot the evidence of Little Miss's quick getaway? I don't think Mr. appreciated her "help".


Tuesday, December 13, 2011

10 Ways to Survive Nut Season

As the holiday season is upon us, you may be one of the lucky ones to get invited out, and those of us with a nut allergy need to be cautious. Here are a few things to keep in mind. Feel free to add your own.

When going to a person's house for a casual, potlucky, snacky type of gathering:

1. Take your own snacks - and be prepared to share. I know a guy once who took a baked potato with him to every party. He ate only the potato and wouldn't share. Don't do that.

2. Make sure your snacks do not get put on a platter with other snacks. In other words; take your own platter and watch over it (without being obvious - you are supposed to share).

3. If there are a few contaminated items, then avoid them at all costs. Do not shake hands. Hug with your forearms. (If I could draw you a sketch, I would). If it's your kid with the allergy, put mitts on him, and maybe a surgeon's mask.

4. If the contamination in rampant, walk around with your elbows in, or arms in the air, and only stay the required time it takes to chat with your hostess, compliment her on her home, outfit or children.

5. Should you enjoy the conversation so much that you can't bare to leave, then DO NOT EAT, make chewing motions with your mouth, and smile, saying, "Oh, I couldn't. I am SO FULL!"

6. Stay away from squares, anything beige or brown, or any cheese balls with a crunchy look to them. If the ingredients aren't listed anywhere in the kitchen, or recycling, or trash - don't eat it. (I am known for going through recycling to find containers).

8. Take a friend who will tackle people if necessary, or politely ask them to take their cookies to their car (oh, yeah, it's happened).

9. Wash hands regularly. And face, and arms, and neck. Chances are they'll think you're in the bathroom because of food poisoning, and then no one will eat.

10. Don't freak out when others stare - they may be looking for a reason to call 911. (aka the superman complex) Give your neck a scratch or two, and watch their eyes bug out! Everyone needs a little Christmas drama.

Sure hope this helps. We nutters have to stick together :)


Friday, December 9, 2011

The Jackson Pollock in Our House


Tonight my son got out some paints and paper, and set out to make something beautiful. He quickly got frustrated, however, as he tried to maneuver the brush as he would a pencil to create the house-tree-dog picture which forever hangs on our fridge.

I sat down beside him at the table. "Painting is different than drawing," I said. "It does not need to be perfect. You do not have to draw the same thing you always draw. Art is playing with colour, patterns, designs. You can use bright colours or even just black and white.

"There was a man named Jackson Pollock. He put up the paper and dripped, dropped, and spread the paint onto it to make wonderful art. His art also makes millions of dollars now..."

My son's face relaxed and he got to work. His tongue stuck out the side of his mouth as he made his plan of attack. He stood up on his knees on the chair and got ready to splatter paint with his brush onto the paper.

"Wait, wait!" I cried, "Once you make a million dollars, then you can splatter paint in this house!"

About an hour later, Little Miss came in to see what he was doing. He couldn't even look up, he was concentrating so hard on his painting.

"What are you doing?"

"Art," he said, "I'm doing art."

I smiled with pride.

After a quick lesson from the master, this is what Little Miss came up with:


And there is indeed a mess on my kitchen table :P

Wednesday, December 7, 2011

Family Photo Time!!

Ah, family photo time.

I couldn't help but think of Claire Dunphy, on the show, 'Modern Family' as I tried to contain myself and my need to be a control freak.

I wanted something fun and unique, veering away from the traditional Christmas portrait. I imagined dressing as spies, adorned in sleek, black masks, with guns at the ready (okay, maybe just finger or water pistols), but Mr. Man just laughed.

"Where are you going to find water guns at this time of year?" he asked.

******

So we dressed in black and white, and blue jeans - even matching socks, and went to the mall. We bought an appropriate black sweater at the last minute for our son who didn't quite match. Fuzzy black stuff spread across his pristine white shirt and I made an inward sigh.

Little Miss's red curls were going frizzy. I stepped into a kid's jewelry store and spent way too much on a hairbrush and hairband.

"Would you like an added accessory for a reduced price?"

"Sure, sure."

"How about a family discount card for future purchases?"

"Sure, sure." I said absently, as Little Miss starts crying in the corner, not getting her way on the accessory.

So now she was frizzy, red and blotchy. Another inward sigh.

As Mr. (who is the only one calm, and pristine by this point) smooths over everyone, we go into the photo store. The photographer was also red, blotchy and a little frizzy. Apparently we wore an inappropriate colour, and varied too much in height. And at this, there was no appropriate background, no customer relations, and no fun poses.

Inward sigh, and a little vein poking out of my neck.

The most interesting pose we got was all of us wearing Santa hats (which took a little persuading of our little ones, and a slight fear of head lice).

From the start, I went in with a photo budget, and since most of it went with the sweater, hairbrush and accessories, I spent $22.95 on the boring, unhappy family photos.

We bought the kids a last minute muffin at a local coffee shop as a thank you for getting through it, and quickly took them home to bed, letting them sleep in their clothes, thereby getting sweater fluff on the bed sheets.

I should've known it would turn out like this first thing this morning, when we were awakened by the Christmas tree falling over.


Friday, December 2, 2011

Grandma's Baking

As I am getting cookies and treats ready for tonight's Santa Claus parade, I find I am missing my grandma. Her number one love language was through food. She cooked and baked constantly, and remembered everything that you loved.

Every summer we would come to stay, and she would feed me tapioca pudding until I was sick of it. She would let us put sugar on our cereal when mom wasn't looking. She would make melt-in-your-mouth shortbread cookies (pressed with a fork), and lots of rice krispy squares. It was as if she had been preparing all winter for when we would come in July.

I remember all of the quirky things she did. She used a spatula to get every bit of mashed potatoes out of the pot - and she always whipped her potatoes with a hand mixer to make them extra creamy. She would poke toothpicks into the top of any dessert before wrapping it plastic wrap so as to avoid smearing the icing. And she wouldn't let a bit of food go to waste.

It certainly helps to remember her when I have many of the tools that were from her kitchen: measuring cups, spoons, a rolling pin, and even her aprons. She always had a cutting board hanging on her kitchen wall that had a cat painted on it, and it is now in my home kitchen.

And, to top it off, the very chocolate cake recipe that I use almost every week for customers is the one that she used to bake for us.

So tonight, after the parade, family and friends will enjoy hot cocoa (with extra chocolate and marshmallows), festive rice krispy squares, and extra chocolatey haystack cookies.

I will make sure to lick the spoon clean in honour of my grandma.

*******

Grandma once said, "Your grandfather never understood how a woman needs chocolate."

Amen, grandma, amen.


Thursday, December 1, 2011

A Taste of Her Wardrobe


One morning Little Miss came downstairs wearing brown stretch pants, three t-shirts in various colours and lengths, and a green knit sweater. Mr. Man and I, who were sitting on the couch having coffee, stared at her.

She tilted her head to one side, letting her red curls fall. "What?"

I leaned over to Mr. and muttered, "I wish I looked good in anything I wore."
He laughed.

*****

"Where ever did you come from?" I asked Little Miss, admiringly.

She stated, simply, "China."


'nuff said :)


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