A (slightly) more sane approach to the holidays

So I may have publicized my annual Christmas meltdown this year. Oh well. When you live with small children you learn that melt downs are going to happen. How you recover is what is important.

I recovered by moving my fire hazzard wreaths to the outside of the windows. I may have plugged them in using a string of lights as an extension cord.

 

The Hubster giggled at me. My Personal Assistant thinks they are "Brilliant!" The Baby laughed and clapped-he'll be the president one day. (Fun fact: I have never lived in a house with exterior lights at Christmas. This feels like a major accomplishment and I could not be more thrilled. And it only took me 30 minutes! I know, I know, it looks like I spent weeks planning and installing this light display, but no. Mere minutes.)

I broke a light bulb while hanging the lights. When I ran out to change it, My Personal Assistant fed Baby...the soles of his shoes. Those brown crumbs are what was left of a perfectly good pair of boots after I left the boys alone with their shoes for less than 3 minutes. Shame on me. (Baby is fine. You don't have to be too smart to be president right?)

Baby proof all you want-the first time you leave them alone with something dangerous-like the dreaded shoes-all bets are off.

I bought a $5 set of plastic Christmas tree decorations from IKEA (assembly required) and we decorated the tree in Camp Bedroom. Because there is a tree in Camp Bedroom with lights already on it, and Baby can't get to it.

There will be a post about how I painted the birches when I do the next update on Camp Bedroom.

I stumbled across an app called Waterlogue that converts your photos to water colors. It is mesmerizing and makes everything look more festive.

It is also making me miss painting.

Even the saddest of wreaths.

But maybe not bathroom mayhem. Whatever. The rest of this post will be in fake watercolor because it amuses me.

The Personal Assistant is still in charge of sending replies to Christmas cards, which may or may not be mailed by New Years. I also set him to work planting some paper whites for some easy/kid safe Christmas decor.

That kept him busy long enough for me to bake some egg free, sucrose free, starch free cookies (sounds yum right?) and make a batch of his favorite marshmallows.

(The cookies aren't half bad for my first time trying to make CSID safe/egg free cookies. It only gets better from here right? Besides, I keep telling myself that what he will remember is that I tried.)

The Personal Assistant would like more craft time, and one of the Moms in my CSID support group is stuck in the hospital with two little boys at home. We decided they could use a care package, so we spent the afternoon making Christmas busy bags and testing them. They were easy and lots of fun. I will share more about them later this week.

My dear aunt confessed that they are laughing less at her house these days. She is the point person for co-ordinating care for my Grandfather as he recovers from a fall (he's doing great) and for her daughters-one who is recovering from an AVM and one who has been diagnosed with a rare from of MD. It is a lot. She said she is hanging things on her walls that she loves-or that make her laugh out loud. I can't do much to help from here, but I do have funny pictures, so I spent an evening looking through old and new photos to send to her.

 

 

Looking a photos from this past year the Hubster and I were overwhelmed by how much The Personal Assistant loves "his" Baby. It is written all over his face in every single picture of the two of them. We are taking time to snuggle, and feel thankful, indulge in hobbies, and laugh at our imperfections. It may still be a bit crazy around here, but it is the funny sort of crazy that we can all live with.

Merry Christmas, and Peace, and imperfection, and giggles be with you.

-Jen

 

 

Posted with Blogsy

...how does your garden grow?

Welcome to part 2 of my mid-summer garden update. You are thrilled I am sure. Whatever, I am doing it anyway.

The play area looks really different. The daisies have filled in, the grasses are growing but short, (I may replace them with something taller in the fall) and the grass has filled in except for all the places we killed it by leaving toys out. (The shade on the sand box is fine, it just rained and I forgot to straighten it before taking this picture.) The climbing wall has become a place for building forts. Adorable, yet not pretty. Good thing this area is more about fun than pretty.

Gardening in dry shade.

I have a confession to make. I am, by trade, a Landscape Architect. When people discover this, I get a lot of questions. And that's cool. No really, I don't mind. But I can't tell you what to plant in your back yard at a cocktail party, because I am at a cocktail party and not in your back yard. I need to experience a space to know what it needs. And while I try to always maintain a professional attitude when the plant questions start, when you tell me that you can't have a garden because you have shade, or horror of horrors, dry shade, you might need to give me a minute because I am mentally rolling my eyes and picturing this:

That's my shade garden. My dry shade garden. Smashed between our cement walk and the neighbor's. Under a giant hemlock on the west end and a giant cedar on the east end (that's right, acidic dry shade). My house and porch almost completely block the southern exposure. My neighbor's side gets sun between oh, noon and 1 pm. My side gets almost no direct light. And I never water it. Isn't it lovely?

Flowers for Monday

Sunday evening makes me sad. The weekend is over and a new work week filled with busy-ness is about to begin. About four years ago I started a summer Sunday evening tradition of walking through my garden, choosing a few blooms and making a nosegay for my desk on Monday. I often made a second one to share with someone at the office. I no longer leave home to work, but I still enjoy the tradition, and sometimes drop off a little bouquet for a neighbor. What is the point of growing flowers if you don't pick them?