A little honesty

Let's have some honesty about school Christmas concerts. And let's get real about bridal and baby showers. While we're at it, let's share our true feelings about graduations and fundraisers and wedding toasts rife with cliches. We? We do not like them. They're interminable. We would rather be sitting at home in our Forever Lazy watching an infomercial on cubing fruits. All speeches feel hackneyed, and you can only hyperventilate over so many gifts. But sometimes we just have to go watch the 3rd graders slide their trombones and mimic a pack of perishing elephants. And sometimes you just have to force a giggle over the bride-to-be forcing a smile over the fifth lacy neglige she has unwrapped today. Oh honey, if you only knew... Baby Girl's Christmas concert was the other night. Friends, of course I wanted to be there to swell with proud THAT'S MAH BABEH GIRL UP THEYARR! But you know how parents at these things are: like a whole swarm of hovering helicopters with their flipcams, or a bunch of honeybees bumping into one another, their gazes fixed on their iPhones. Those parents. Of course I was rebuked when I saw how precious the kids were, how proud they were to perform, how incredibly deliciously sweet their voices resounded in the church sanctuary. I am, however, also not going to pretend I was not glad that my kid is in pre-K and her class performed first, for a total of three whole minutes, and we got to leave right after. Concert began at 7:00, home by 7:25. Done and done. *** Sheeplets in the green room

Nativity

This has been the year of The Nativity, as interpreted by Baby Girl. Most days see a makeshift manger cropped together with blankets and stuffed animals in some cozy corner of our home. Giraffe, Lexi the Lamb, Bearista of Starbucks Merchandise fame? They're all attending to the Christ child, who is usually either a baby doll swaddled in pink or Curious George. I guess the Nativity story has always held fascination for me, so I can understand her obsession. It's pretty bizarro awesome when you think about it, isn't it? Angel visits teenage peasant girl, says, "Sup, Mary. You ready to have God's son? What's that? No husband? No worries! We've got you. Just make sure you call this babe Jesus, got that? Kay. Later." Baby Girl is especially fixated on Mary's fulfillment of this role. Did you know, for example, that Mary and Joseph had a midnight snack of s'mores? Labor makes a girl hungry, natch. Also, Mary oftentimes had to cut out and go to a ballet lesson (in order to get back to her pre-baby weight?). Joseph was totally down, though. He was happy to hang back at the crib with his new son. Finally, whatever notions you had about Mary's footwear being the buckle-up Jerusalem cruisers--well you can just put that nonsense away. Baby Girl has informed me that Mary wore high heels. I mean, what other lies have you believed about the REAL Holy Family, wardrobe and otherwise?

Now that we live in the Bible Belt, there are awfully much and many opportunities to encounter the most wonderful story ever told. Tonight Baby Girl and I went to a drive-thru Nativity. Twas awesome. You can see below the level of authenticity the actors and set designers were trying to achieve. Not pictured: Baptist preacher at exit asking me if I was 50, 75, or 100% sure I was going to Heaven. Also not pictured: Baby Girl asking me to read her the illustrated tract about salvation for the third time tonight. *** Stand up and be counted.

This is a donkey, isn't it? I said, "Wow! A real donkey!" but I'm just a city mouse.

The goat's name was Ginger. Isn't that adorbs? That is a goat, right?

And these? Are two little sheep.

Holiday Mantle

The Catholic in me is trouncing my very post-Reformation sense of interior decoration every year around this time. And by that I mean that my Episcopalian home goes all WASSAHHH CATHEDRAL OF TINSEL UP IN HERRR!

Oooh I loves the holiday hanging of greens and garland and general festooning of hearth and home. The real peppermint icing on all of that this year is that I have a REAL mantle. The kind that grown-ups have. Not the kind that newlyweds make out of IKEA bookshelves...

Appendix A:

or that yuppies make out of electric fireplaces...

Appendix B:

This year I've been going whole hog with the festivus of halldecking. Baby Girl got to help me in a big way.

We made angels for the mantle last weekend. I know you're waiting for the step-by-step tutorial that lists all of these scrapbooking tools by their proper name in an esoteric kind of way {oooh! lookit me! A scrapbook buff! no.} . But trust, you know I have no room in my creative space for precision. I hack it all.

For these angels, I credit the amazing art teach Mrs. B of St. Raph's School in Bay Village, OH who inspired the original cherubic model. These angels that Baby Girl and I hacked are made from scrapbook paper that was on sale 6 for $1 at Michael's which we (I) then rolled around various empty ink cartridge boxes, painted styrofoam balls and gold pipe cleaners. We used a glue pad + stamp + glitter for the special adornments on the angel gowns.

After the angels dried and found a place on the mantle like they were Norm finding his bar stool at Cheers, I couldn't wait for Baby Girl to wake up to see them. So, first thing last Monday, I woke her up and said all cryptically, Baby Girl, you're not going to believe what's in the living room!!

The FIRST THING out of that little pumpkin's pie hole? "Oh, Mom! We forgot to put wings on the angels!"

Are you kidding me? Can you imagine waking up with that much clarity of mind? What is that like, to not wake up with your mouth all chewed up inside from vexing dreams where you are forced to snort pixie sticks or you won't be able to catch the last bus for Albuquerque where your Girl Scout Troop AND your Irish step dancing teacher are waiting for you to bring them the feta cheese wraps!!

Anyway. I have yet to repair the wingless angels. They are managing with their obvious handicap in the meantime.

What I have done is make this fetching wreath, though! And yes that IS chalk paint on cardboard, thank you for noticing. This wreath took me no time, which is to say that it took only a few minutes to complete the concept after I messed with the ribbon for four hours.

Y'all, have a JOYful, crafty holiday season.

xoxo K