Very Muppet Birthday

The last couple of months...Scratch that... Our last year or so has been, for lack of a better word, unsettling. Part of this involves our potential move to Texas, a move that we are no longer considering. The quick summary on that part is that it wasn't the right move for us. We have it good here in Minnesota, something that I say with full awareness of the record-setting low temperatures that we've experienced in the past few months.

Without going in to too much more detail, this trying year has given us something. We got perspective. That's my silver lining to a very, very dark cloud of crap. It wasn't particularly a perspective that we wanted to have, but there it is anyway.  

So, while we were busy trying to stay warm and maintain some semblance of sanity, March happened. And with March comes my birthday. Not that I do much for my birthdays (you can read here on what my special day's requests have been), but it is something that happens whether I'm ready for it or not.

This year, Craig got me a gift so perfect, he is going to sit back for the next few birthdays (and by few I mean all of them) and talk about the olden days. "Remember that time I got you that really super awesome birthday gift that made you cry?" 

This is now the yardstick in which all future birthday gifts will be measured.

It is no secret to those that know me that I love the Muppets. Actually, love just doesn't cover it. The Muppets are my glee. And these past few months, I have been a bit glee-deprived. Opening this particular present at that particular time filled me with such joy that the 9 year old part of me took over and could not get into that box fast enough to play with my new toy. 

Some of the many looks of my new favorite plaything. (The feather hair is my favorite)

Now, I had actually opened this gift a month before my birthday. Craig couldn't wait and I wasn't really going to argue with him. Early presents don't ruin your birthday. It just makes it last longer. Same goes for late presents, so let me know if anyone needs my address.

The week of my birthday, the kids kept saying, "I can't wait until Wednesday." The first few times they said it, I had to think about what we had going on that day that would make them excited. When I realized that their excitement was for my birthday, I thought they must be thinking that there would be some sort of celebration and were going to be very disappointed. Turns out, they were both just so excited because they had made me birthday gifts and could not wait for me to open them. 

Unlike their dad, they did wait and it was even more glee just to see their faces waiting for me to unwrap each of their gifts. Cara had made me an beautiful necklace with ribbon and silver findings and had also made the cutest card about what she could be doing instead of wishing me a happy birthday (homework and room-cleaning were a couple of the things mentioned). To top it all off, she made me my favorite, white cake from a box with buttercream frosting. All on her own. The decoration couldn't be more perfect. 

Sums up my feelings about 41 exactly, Beaker.

Connor had also made me a card and gift and he had wrapped the present all by himself. It was halfway-covered with wrapping paper that was cut from the middle of the roll. Underneath the wrapping and inside the box was a sweet paper heart that he had cut out himself from the middle of a piece of construction paper. In keeping with the spirit of the gift and continuing the letting go that I started during Christmas time, I read the words that Connor meant.

This birthday, my glee cup runneth over. 

Valentine's Day 2014

Normally, Cara and I use Valentine's Day as a time to spend working together to come up with fairly labor-intensive crafts for her to give to her classmates. Last year, we made home-made Altoid-type candies and Cara put them in containers that she decorated herself along with a card that fit into the lid of the containers. The year before, we made salt dough into pins, magnets, bookmarks, and earrings. And the year before that, rolled out sugar cookies decorated with flood icing and personalized for each classmate.

This year, our February was less-than-typical and now Connor was going to be making valentines as well, so we decided to go an easier route. The kids and I visited the paint section at the Home Depot and grabbed a few dozen free sample cards. They both really enjoyed looking for colors that each of their friends would like. Some ribbon and a heart hole punch later, and the kids had made over 50 personalized bookmark valentines.

Another part of the Valentine's Day celebration at the kids' school is that the parents make a Valentine for their kids that will hang up in the classroom for the weeks leading to the holiday.  I had a lot of fun with these and I think they turned out fairly well.

Cara actually suggested we use Tae Kwon Do as the theme for her valentine. You may not be able to see all of the pictures clearly in this photo, but they are all documented moments in Cara's martial arts history: showing off a new move she had learned in class, sparring with the other students, practicing her flying side kick (the blurry pic at the top and probably one of my favorites) and being awarded her next belt. We are so proud of her progress and are happy to brag to her classmates about it.

I was looking for a cheesy saying to go on Connor's, but he actually requested that I write "I love you" on it. Since he's still okay with public displays of affection from his parents, I had to take advantage of what will probably be a small window of opportunity to do so. In addition to a neon sign displayed for all to see, he wore last year's Valentine's Day shirt.

I'm really glad that I get at least seven more years of valentine crafts to look forward to.

Retro Parenting

I take my role as parent seriously. It is my job to impart wisdom and reason, to teach my children the difference between right and wrong, to model good behavior, to show empathy and compassion to others so that my children will grow to be empathetic and compassionate people.  It is also my job to make sure that my children never utter the phrase "I didn't know that because that happened before I was born."  This week, I knocked the cobwebs off a few oldies but goodies to share with my children.

It started with Connor's request to tell him a bedtime story.  I tucked him into bed, snuggled up close, and began. "Now, here's a little story. It's about a man named Jed." I described the plight of this poor mountaineer who was desperate to feed his family. By the end of the story, things had turned around for Jed and Connor went to bed knowing that reckless abandon with a shotgun could end up getting you a swimming pool.

Another lyrically historical moment this week was when I chose to enlighten my daughter with the song stylings of one Mr. Bill Withers. Because, some times in our lives, we all have pain. We all have sorrow. But, if we are wise, we know that there's always tomorrow.

As a child, the Muppet Show was a gateway between the characters I loved and the actors/musicians that my parents were familiar with. Now that I have my own kids, I've used old episodes of the Muppet Show (yes, I do own the Time Life series as seen on TV) to enrich their appreciation of performers of the past (and sometimes present, too---who knew the Alice Cooper episode would be Cara's favorite?).  This week, I let Connor gaze on the wonder that was Dizzy Gillespie. Don't know him? Well, here you go. And you're welcome.

If I say the name "Willow", what do you think of? If it's not either Rosenberg or Ufgood, I just don't have enough time to tell you how sad your life is. Since Cara already knows of the first, it was high time she be introduced to the second. This weekend, we rented the 1988 Ron Howard/George Lucas movie starring Wicket the Ewok and an un-puffy Val Kilmer. Now, she may have laughed out loud at some of the special effects, you can bet that girl was glued to the screen, making sure that the little red-headed baby was safe and that the queen got what was coming to her. High-five, eighties! 

So far, I was winning parenting. And then I pulled a Kelley. That thing where the words go directly from my brain and out through my mouth with no filter at all. It was not one that I immediately regretted, though. This was like a slow-release tablet that very well is probably in the boy's system as I type this. I apologize in advance, Connor's classmates' parents. My son is now familiar with the law of He Who Smelt It, Dealt It. 

If four out of five is good enough for dentists, it's good enough for me.

Letting Go, Fa La La

I'm the kind of person that arranges their book shelf from tallest to shortest. My CDs and DVDs have always been in alphabetical order. And if I ever had several items of various color? Roy G Biv, baby.  

Let me be the first to say it (and then my family can be the second and third and fourth), I like things a certain way.  

If you're following this, nodding in agreement, this next part is where our stories might differ.  Most people's story would say "And then I had kids and learned that things are better when children put them in their own unique order and...." NO.  

No. No. No. And no.

Kids are dumb. They don't respect how soothing the proper placement of things can be. They thrive on creating chaos. It's their mission. And they work on that chaos with the same compulsion that causes me to rearrange the Christmas tree after they've "decorated" it.

Homemade candy cane next to a real candy cane?  Ornamental redundancy and just plain crazy! 

A candy cane next to a candy cane next to a candy cane? It's a confectionery orgy on this tree! 

I know it's wrong to feel this way. I don't need your judgey-face looking down your nose at me. I look down my own nose at me enough for the both of us.  But the down-looking only comes after my brain has screamed about the fact that my daughter is wearing navy blue with black and my son has a patterned shirt on with a totally different patterned pant not to mention the fact that the two share no matching colors and someone has stacked a plate on TOP of a bowl in the sink and what did I ever do to deserve such punishment?

We have an advent calendar that the kids use each year. Each day, the kids take turns putting up the next ornament. This is a tradition that they relish. It's always the first thing out of the Christmas box and the first thing put up for the holidays.  If it's their calendar day, it is one of the first things they do when they wake up that morning.  It's a decorating process that I am only an observer of.

And it hurts.

Case in point:

Seventeen days in.

Look at this. The cardinal is kissing the dove who is pecking on the Santa that has a candy cane hooked on the ball at the end of his hat.  All the while, Beaker is in the middle of a two-car, one train pile up that happened right outside the gingerbread house's driveway while the snowman and gingerbread man run away, hand-in-hand, unharmed from the crazy chaos that was my beloved advent calendar.

But in keeping with the spirit of the season, I stifled my inner crazy and left the decorations as is. All of them. I didn't touch a single ornament. Every candy cane was left in place, even if that place was right next to another candy cane of the same color even though, why would you do that when you had two other candy cane colors to choose from in addition to a bunch of other ornaments, most of which were not candy canes and maybe we should just have no candy canes next year unless I can color-coordinate my brain explosion to match the wall color.  

And then, a beautiful thing happened.  Something so amazing and heart-warming that your faith in your life-choices are all-at-once restored and you know that everything is right with the world.  

Cara placed a wrapped present gently under the tree, nestling it on top of the hand-made tree skirt and right below the crocheted bells that my great-great aunt made that had been a part of my tree since I was an infant.  Craig looked down at the gift and said, "The snowmen are upside-down!"

Hands off. He's mine!

Proof that I left it alone all month.

The Unknown

Me: "When you were little, I didn't know how much fun you'd be."
Connor: "But now you do."
Me: "You're right."
Connor: "You just don't know when."

Veggie Tales

Overheard conversation between the two kids:

Connor: "How come I get the most vegetables and the least dessert?"
Cara: "You do not get the most vegetables. You get the least!"
Connor: "Well, why? Don't mom and dad want me to grow big and strong?"

Doctor Who-loween (Part 2)

Once Connor found out that Cara was going to be the Tardis from Doctor Who for Halloween, he firmly decided that he wanted to be the Doctor.  Now, just which Doctor he would be was another question.

Again, for those of you not in the Doctor Who loop, there have been eleven different men playing the role of the Doctor throughout the show's fifty years, each with their own distinct look. My kids have only really been introduced to the last three, so the choice of which Doctor wasn't so difficult.

Connor opted to be the most recent (and youngest) Doctor and, after we ordered and received the sonic screwdriver (a non-weapon the Doctor uses which also varies from Doctor to Doctor) for the eleventh Doctor, it was easy to see why. We all took turns playing with this part of his costume, pressing the buttons to activate the sound and light.

Unlike Cara's intricate Tardis costume, Connor's costume was relatively easy.  I found a blazer at a used clothing store and sewed brown felt patches onto the elbows. I had fabric leftover from when I made the bow ties for Cara's shoes and I made a bow tie for Connor (and watched a YouTube video to show me how to actually tie it). A button-down shirt, skinny tan pants, and brown boot-like pointy shoes and he was all set.

The Doctor and his Tardis

Now, in addition to the recreational Halloween costumes, both Cara and Connor had costumes for a month-long Halloween project that they participate in at school. Each child in first through sixth grade selects a hero to study. They spend the month of October doing research on this person, making a portrait of their hero, and writing a report which they then present to the class at the end of the month.

Connor selected Dr. Seuss as his hero this year. Originally, he had been very reluctant to the idea of dressing up as this man, so I didn't worry too much about a costume. We had a sport coat and tie in our dress up stash that he could use and I popped the lenses out of some tortoise shell sunglasses to look like the glasses Dr. Seuss wore.  It must have been during the course of researching and writing that Connor changed his mind about dressing up. The night before Halloween hero day (or Halloween hero eve, as I'm going to call it) when I had laid out what I had pulled together for a costume, Connor insisted that he have a Dr. Seuss beard.  So, what do you do when a donkey who usually doesn't want to participate actually is excited about doing so? You make a beard out of felt, elastic, and yarn, of course!

The beard. A few choice words were uttered during the making of this beard. Mostly directed at the spiderweb of glue and fingers and yarn and felt fuzz.

When asked why Dr. Seuss, he replied, "He's the only famous person I know."  

Now,this is Cara's sixth Halloween hero and, this year, she selected Elizabeth Cady Stanton to research. Out of all that she learned about this amazing and outspoken woman, what stuck with her was how Elizabeth stood her ground, even when all those around her tried to convince her to give up. I listened to her talk with such passion about how horrible it was for Elizabeth's father to have said continuously to her that she couldn't do things because she was a girl. And the lightbulb went on for her. Wow. Women really were not treated well back in those days. Look at how far we've come.

Women's rights activist, Elizabeth Cady Stanton

I asked Cara if her father or I had ever told her that she couldn't do something because she was a girl. She thought for a moment and said that, no, we never had. Since Connor was present for this conversation and was listening intently, I decided to include him. "Have we ever told you that you can't do something because you're a boy?" This brother of an older sister says, "Paint my fingernails."

Two steps forward, one step back.