The Night Before Kindergarten

As if on cue, the rain began falling as I tucked my children into bed this evening. Last year at this moment in time I wrote an article about The Night Before School. I was a bit bleary-eyed at the thought of losing my sweet children to the school room for nine months. This year, however, this moment in time is much more significant. It’s the night before kindergarten for my younger child. It is, in fact, the last night before kindergarten I ever plan to have.

The rain seems to be gently washing away the baby phase of my life. Even though it already seems long gone, Hunter’s kindergarten year is officially ending the days of spit up and diapers, baby food and naptimes, and Little People and the Wiggles filling each day. I am now entering an entirely new phase–one that I have yet to experience. I am a work-at-home mom with no kids at home. I invite you to join me in a moment of silence as we let that thought sink in. I repeat: no kids at home.

Once upon a time I went to college. I fell in love with my husband the year before I graduated. We married the summer of graduation and moved to seminary where I worked full-time to put him through a 3-year master’s degree. Baby came just in time for that diploma, and we headed off to Oklahoma where I entered the ranks of stay-at-home moms purely by choice. It was a guilty-feeling choice at times, but I cherished the time I had my with my little one all to myself. I quickly discovered, however, that staying home was more difficult and tiresome than going to work. My days became filled with the needs and wants of other people, leaving little, if any, time for myself.

Then Baby #2 came along, and I went back to work. From home, that is. I began working from home when she was still an infant; I cleaned up spit up and crumbs all day, then worked late into the night. I never planned for it to happen that way; life just found me too driven to leave my career pursuits entirely unused while chasing little people around all day. Staying up until the wee hours or getting up before the sun became my safe and quiet place where I could still pursue some me-time apart from my mommy-time.

But let’s not get too cream-coated about it. As the years have progressed, and my business has blossomed, and my kids sleep less than before, working from home has become terribly difficult. Every day for the last several years has been dominated by acrobatics and spinning plates. Several client emails, phone calls, and work tasks each day have intermingled with meal times, homework, ball games and preschool pick-up. I wouldn’t trade it all for the world. And if I had found myself having to give up anything, you can bet your bottom dollar it wouldn’t be time with my kids. That took first priority over client-work. But wow. I’m tired. And I’m sorry to say I did it all to the neglect of my house and my body. (And yes, I would do it again.)

But here, on this day, I find myself preparing to embark on an exciting adventure in my motherhood. As I drive away from the school tomorrow, no doubt in a puddle of tears, I will be entering new territory in my life. I will return home to enter a household that is frighteningly quiet for seven whole hours at once. Every day. And if all I had done for the past seven years was raise children and clean house, I would probably be quite forlorn. But I’ve done more than that. I’ve given my all every single hour of every single day. I haven’t watched the first sit-com in a decade. I only slept in past 7:30am for the very first time in nearly a decade THIS SUMMER. I’ve given 150% to my family, to my church, and to my clients, and now I finally have time to celebrate…er, ummmm…time to clean up the last seven years worth of clutter and grime from every corner of my house.

My to-do list for the next few weeks is a MILE long. No kidding. I have just begun to start making a list of all the lists I need to make in order to catch up from everything I have failed to do over the last seven years. I am sorry to report that my seemingly super-human efforts at working from home did not have super-human results. My kids are happy, healthy, and well-fed, and my clients are satisfied and with me for the long-haul. But my HOUSE. Oh, my house. And my body. Oh, my body. Let’s just say I have a lot of work to do.

And I have seven hours a day to do it.

My Sunday Cup

This afternoon I am drinking from my Sunday cup. It’s one I haven’t used since before I lived in this house, which means I probably haven’t used it since becoming a mother. I drank from this cup every Sunday afternoon BC (before children). Drinking from my Sunday cup was a privilege I only allowed myself on a Sunday afternoon when my entire house was clean and sparkling, something of which I regrettably cannot currently boast. The delicate, ornate, blue and white teacup and saucer were a gift to me from the tea room the day of my bridal shower. Somehow that teacup spoke to me of a life which I had yet to live. It seemed to represent a person, a season, an experience that I had yet to embark upon. Now looking back, I see that my teacup was indeed symbolic–symbolic of my journey into adulthood where fantasy and reality intermingle too delicately to tell them apart.

I’m not sure why, but I’ve been afraid to use my teacup here. It’s been nearly seven years since I’ve filled it with coffee–long enough to forget my preferred proportions of cream and sugar in such a small vessel. I have kept it in a special place in my cupboard, right next to the Waterford stems I have recently begun to use as every day glasses, yes, even right here in my 80’s kitchen. I have seen the cup often, but have never ventured to pick it up at tea time. It doesn’t seem quite adequate for handling the weight my motherhood coffee must bear.

Back when I used to drink from my Sunday cup, it was only to relish in the quiet self-satisfaction of a job well-done and a house well-cleaned. It was a way of rewarding myself for working hard all week at the hospital and working hard on the weekend to keep house. Even then it was something new and different and meaningful to know that I had successfully entered adulthood, and that my childish enjoyment of noise and excitement had finally given way to a strong and grateful preference of peace, solitude, and a few moments to myself.

Now, several years later, my afternoon coffee doesn’t often find itself in the midst of reflection on a blissful afternoon. Nor does it simply exist for a moment of mere pleasure. My motherhood afternoon coffee carries the responsibility of refueling me for the harder part of the day–the part where homework and dinner and bathtime prevail. In some ways, my afternoon coffee really represents me–the me that I am now. And my Sunday cup represents the me that I was then. The Now Me is less me and more Mommy. And that’s a good thing.

To Coupon or Not To Coupon

Oct, 18 2009
By Heather Kate
Money
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My family and I journeyed to Tulsa over fall break (by way of Kansas, incidentally, since I failed to navigate one of the more important turns we should have taken in Oklahoma City). While we were there, every time I used something, my friend Holly told me, “Oh, I got that free at Walgreen’s.” “I got that free at Walgreen’s too.” “That was only 99 cents at Walgreens.” It became the running joke to me that if we used it and liked it, it obviously must have come from Walgreen’s. For free.

Holly explained to me how the Register Rewards work, and how through websites like Couponing101 and others, you can really learn to save big bucks at the grocery store and drug store. I made a habit of cutting coupons a couple of years ago, and I finally got tired of having too many Sunday newspapers to throw away, since all it did was just break even for the expense of the paper. But now I know that I did it all wrong. You can’t just cut a coupon and then take it in to the store for your discount. Oh noooooo. You cut the coupon, then hold on to it until the item goes on sale, then pair it with a store coupon, use it when they double it, and get the product for pennies on the dollar. And if you play it right at Walgreen’s, with the Register Rewards you can actually MAKE money instead of spending it. Imagine…making a round through the drug store, picking up a few things you need, checking out, and the clerk hands you your goods and some MONEY!?! It’s possible. Totally possible.

So, being the tightwad that I am, I decided I would be wrong to not at least give couponing one more decent effort. I started online. I read up at Couponing 101 to find out the whole scoop. I scouted and scraped and printed, printed, printed. We’re talking hours of hard labor to gather coupons online. On the way home from church today I stopped in to Walgreen’s for a sales paper (that you can also view online), and I stopped by United for a Sunday paper and a store flyer. When the machine gave one of my dollars back to me, I knew it was a sign that I would save lots of money today. I spent the ENTIRE afternoon cutting coupons, organizing them by product type, and scheming which store would be the most beneficial for claiming each bargain. I even hired some child labor to help with the process.

Finally, armed with my makeshift coupon notebook, the Walgreen store flyer, and VERY detailed lists of what to buy, in what order, and which coupon to use, I headed off to Walgreen’s to get started. I immediately found myself overwhelmed, as I realized that I had to juggle the notebook and piles of coupons to figure out EXACTLY which product, which quantity, and which flavor to buy. You can’t buy the wrong thing, or the coupon won’t work. It’s a good thing I did not take a child with me. I might have headed straight back through the door. I did, finally, find almost everything I planned to buy. I deliberated more than once over whether the cost with the coupons was more than it would cost paying retail at Wal-mart, and I did decide to leave some things on the shelf for that reason. Before I was done I hit the jackpot with the clearance gift bags. At $1 each, they were Dollar Tree prices with Hallmark cuteness. I had been meaning to stock up on gift bags anyway, so that was a perfect little surprise.

As I aimed my buggy for the register, undoubtedly filled with more goods than the Walgreens buggy manufacturer intended, a sense of dread immediately set in. I had read about how ladies get a bit nervous when they head into a store with an armload of coupons, and I thought they were pretty sissy about it. Why would you be ashamed of being a smart shopper? You walk out richer than anyone in there. But it happened. My heart started beating faster, my knees got a little wobbly, and I realized I had to face the dreaded Walgreen’s clerk with shaky hands and a toppling load of toilet paper. I started my transactions rolling with the first few items that earned Register Rewards. I had SO CAREFULLY planned what to buy with the best coupon and Register Reward combinations. The clerk ran the final total, I scanned my card, and as I signed on the dotted line, I saw my pile of coupons sitting there. Unused. What an idiot! Could this get any worse? I of course became more flustered and then had to sort through the coupons to see if there was any way to rectify my mistake with the next of the three transactions I had to run in order to effectively scam Walgreen’s.

There wasn’t. So I started loading up my goods on to the tiny little counter. Three 9-packs of Big Rolls of Quilted Northern ($2.99 each). Umpteen gift bags. Two Emergen-Cs (Buy 1 Get 1). A motherload of Huggies wipes (whose $2 coupon also made it home). Six padded mailers (that I wasted $6 on since my coupon got stuck in the folder pocket.) A $2.50-gallon of milk. The list goes on and on. The line behind me started to pile up, and I suddenly felt ashamed of myself and frustrated for the people behind me who all had the token 2 or 3 things people normally go to Walgreen’s for. This is NOT Wal-mart. You are not supPOSED to buy a whole buggy full here. You come in for the good deal they lure you for, buy two extra things that are ridiculously overpriced, and check out before you lose your whole paycheck. I could hear all these things fuming from the line behind me, even though none of them were spoken audibly. I would have been thinking the same thing. But I was already in too deep to turn away. I had to USE all those Register Reward coupons for which I bought stupid stuff to receive.

I quickly wrapped up my transaction with coupons, reward certificates, and receipts flying and flew to the car with my buggy, which, unfortunately isn’t made for groceries. They don’t mean for you to actually buy more than you can carry in a sack or two. When I got home, I was stressed, mad at myself, and wondering if I wasted money or saved money. But when I tallied up the total, I was quite pleased with how it came out. Despite missing FOURTEEN DOLLARS of the coupons I had clipped, I still saved over $58. I spent $92, so I counted that to be a pretty darn good coupon trip. Had I used the $14 in overlooked coupons, the totals would have been Savings: $72; Out of pocket: $78. That would definitely have sounded better. I can honestly say that everything I bought was something I would have used in the near future, with or without the coupons, or something I will substitute for something I would have used. Like some things are a slightly different brand, or a different quantity than I normally buy, but still relatively the same product. The only thing I bought that I never ever buy was Zantac. And it turned out to be free with the Register Rewards. The only reason I bought it was because I had a $1 off coupon, which would have actually given me a ONE DOLLAR OVERAGE. And then I forgot the coupon.

I still anticipate saving another $20 with the coupons I’ve clipped that I plan to use this week at my other two stops. So all in all, I think I turned out with a pretty good week of savings. The trouble is, I’ve already spent over SEVEN. HOURS. Yes, that’s right. Seven hours it took for me to do all that scouting and printing and organizing and whatnot. I calculated my wages down to an anticipated $11.31/hour saved/earned by couponing. Had I not forgotten that chunk of coupons, I would have made like, $13 an hour. Or something like that. I think with some practice and some experience, I could probably scootch that up to a decent amount of money I could save by couponing. That’s pretty good return on investment, really. However, if I had actually spent my couponing time on my current work list that is staring at me from the sticky pad next to me right now, I could have made a heckuva lot more money and had time left over to relax.

I’m not quite sure if couponing is worth my time. I’m not done with it altogether, though. If I can find some ways to trim down the time it takes to prep for the shopping trip, and if I can overcome the stress and aggravation and chaos that the couponing grocery trip creates, it might be worth a try. Given these economic times, it’s good to know that I can find a way to save literally hundreds of dollars a month if I put the effort into it. I’m sure there are a lot of ways I could be more organized and more intentional about saving money if I really put my heart and soul into it. The question is whether or not I want to!

The Night Before School

Tags are trimmed off new clothes and the door lined with shoes. Packs are stuffed with supplies that have never been used. Uniforms are laid out with white bobby socks too, and my children are sleeping, I know not what to do. Should I blog, should I work, should I sit and boo-hoo? It’s the night before school starts for Thing 1 and Thing 2!

I’ve cried lots of tears getting ready for school. In the very same moments I’ve thought it was cool. School is cool and it’s bad, I must be going mad. I cry when I smile and I laugh when I’m sad. These kids they just do it, I don’t know what to say. I love them so much, so much more every day. But they drive me so crazy! Get under my skin! They whine and they fight and they do it again.

“This color-book’s mine!”
“No! I had it first!”
“Well I have it now!” down the hall voices burst.

“I’m telling mom!”
“Well I’ll tell her too!”
“You can’t have my color-book, or I’ll take it from you!”

How any mom could cry about five days of peace, five days every week with three hours at least, I do not have answers for such silly things. For sobs and for tears over children with wings.

We guide and we teach and we love and we pray. We kiss and we hug and we do it all day. We clean and we wash, we sweep and we fold, we mothers keep house like it never gets old. We do it all proudly, and we do it with love. We do it–goodness knows–with help from above.

Now it’s time for Thing 1 and Thing 2 to grow up. I’ll tie on their sneakers and wish them good luck. Though I’ll walk them to class on the very first day, the next day it surely won’t happen that way. I might get a hug with a cheek on my face, but quickly they’ll run–up the sidewalk they’ll race. That big ole school will swallow them whole, then off I’ll drive, very slowly I’ll roll. The tears will be flowing as onward I go. My babies how quickly they managed to grow.

I’ll spend the ride home wiping tears from my face, using every last kleenex that’s found in the place. Then quietly I’ll open the door of my house; not a child will be stirring, and there best be no mouse. I’ll enter my home that once I could claim. I claimed it to be my very own domain. I gave it up for a while, and I’ll give it up yet, to two wild little monkeys with not a regret.

And then it will hit me. This house is all mine. From eight to eleven, I won’t hear a whine. I’ll clean or I’ll work, or I’ll sit and drink tea, and I’ll do it alone, just the silence and me. And then they’ll be gone–those tears on my face. They’ll stop right in their tracks when I reclaim my space. It will not last long, I’ll be racing the clock, but I’ll cheer and I’ll turn up the music and rock. I might miss the ‘Movers with their catchy tunes, but that TV is mine, I can watch it till noon. You know I won’t bother, if you know me at all, but the freedom is there if that TV show calls.

My kids will come back, and I’m so glad they will. My Thing 1 and Thing 2, how I will miss them still. They’ll come bearing homework, dirty clothes, hair and shoes, but I’ll grab them up quickly, my Things 1 and 2. I’ll hug them so tightly they’ll beg I let go, then we’ll snack and we’ll play till the bath water flows. We’ll brush and we’ll read and I’ll tuck them in bed, as the next day of school they will already dread. Truthfullly, I probably will dread the day too, I love lazy mornings with Thing 1 and Thing 2.

School is here; summer’s gone with it’s leisurely pace. I’m both happy and sad with big tears on my face. Tomorrow is dreadful; tomorrow is grand. I’ll have time for myself but have no little hands. I don’t know what I’ll do when to college they go. I want them with me, but I want them to grow. I know at my side they will not always stand, but for now I will hold them as long as I can.

Brimming…

The tears took me by surprise last year when I saw Will off to his first day of kindergarten. I had so looked forward to having some relief from the constant entertainment I must provide to keep his smart little wheels turning. I remembered my mom telling me how she had cried the day I went to kindergarten, then on other monumental years as well. But I thought I had conquered that crying business last year. After all, we’re seasoned elementary parents now, with a big first-grader in the family, right?

This isn’t a real good time to be writing an article like this, since I’d rather not have red eyes before Bill and I head off for dinner to celebrate our ninth anniversary. But I have a few moments of peace, a cup of coffee, and a heart that is brimming over with emotions just as sure as my eyes are brimming with tears. I just have to take a few minutes to let some of them pour out on the computer keyboard–the emotions that is. I’d sure hate to ruin a keyboard the way I ruined one back at the hospital with a hot, sticky cup of coffee one Saturday while I worked overtime. Somehow, though, I always seem to feel better, in some strange way, after laying my soul bare to the world. Like somehow I’ve gained some sort of cyber-hug by anyone who happens by to read. It’s weird, really, to blog such intensely personal feelings in such a public way. I guess that I have this little glimmer of hope that my writing will find someone who identifies with my feelings. Someone who maybe has the same feelings about their own life, but maybe couldn’t quite express it or just didn’t take the time to write it down.

The book I’ve been reading lately, The Wednesday Sisters, has done that for me. It has expressed beliefs and emotions about life that I have held so very deeply, yet never have quite been able to express myself in such a meaningful and tangible way. It has even drawn me back to the idea that maybe I should write my own book. I don’t know where, exactly I will find the time to write more than a monthly blog article, but I love to write. I really do. I never would have known that growing up, but I’ve developed quite a passion for creative expression through writing. It seems to soothe my soul in ways nothing else can.

Goodness knows I need some soothing right now as I prepare for both of my kids to go off to school this year. Last year the tears on that first day of school were unexpected. I thought I was a big enough girl to handle a little school time away from my first born. But this year there’s no surprise about it. I’ve already started crying buckets, even with school two weeks out. Well, less than two weeks by now. It’s gonna take some serious writing to soothe this mommy’s sadness! I haven’t finished my thoughts on this subject, but it’s time for me to go. I guess I’ll write more later…

Life in Southwest Oklahoma

Over five years ago, when we first drove through 30 miles of cotton and wheat fields on our way out to the western prairie to check out our new small town, I wondered where in the world we were going. We drove pretty far out in the middle of nowhere, when all of a sudden we came upon this quaint little southwestern town that looked like it was straight out of the movies. Later, when the movie Cars came out, we thought maybe they had fashioned Radiator Springs after it. If you haven’t seen Cars, go watch it, and you’ll see how we live–almost.

There’s not much to do here. The small movie theater only gets low-end movies, the restaurants are mostly family-owned joints, and the shopping is, well, nonexistent. We do have a bowling alley, racing arena, and a bingo hall, but you can imagine the excitement that brings. Most of the town’s activities basically center around the family; little league sports, dance and gymnastics, and high school football games are what fill most people’s evenings and weekends. If you want to do anything else, you pretty much have to leave town.

When we go to a medical specialist, we have to drive anywhere between one to two and half hours to get there. We do that a lot, as you might imagine. It makes a simple checkup a whole day affair.

When we want to go shopping for office or arts and crafts supplies, we drive an hour and cross our fingers they’ll have what we need. Sometimes, they do, but yesterday we had to settle for less.

When it’s time to buy clothes for the kids, we have no choice but to do it online and return the stuff that doesn’t fit, or haul them both two and half hours away, where they are already exhausted and cranky before the shopping begins. It’s not a nice situation.

Most of the time that we have to make a day trip to do one of the aforementioned things, we have to scour the house looking for stuff that needs to be returned while we’re there, because we always end up with something that doesn’t work out, and it’s too far to drive just for a return. Then it stresses us out on the trip, because we have to work in that return on the other side of town before or after the appointment, and still leave in time to pick up a child back in town.

My opinion of Oklahoma can easily be skewed by the hardship imposed by living in a small, dusty, very remote town. But despite the inadequecies of living this far away from the rest of civilization, not to mention family, I really do love it here. You know why? It draws my focus to the stuff in life that really matters. God. My family. Friends. Church. I have more time for enjoying home life, since there’s no where to go and nothing to do. I have always loved being at home. Now that I have two small children, I love being at home even more. And the town I live in seems to celebrate that.

People here still have family ideals. They treasure the moments spent together with family and community. When we have big festivals and parades, the whole town shows up for the festivities. When someone is sick and needs help caring for their family or paying their bills, the town surrounds them and provides food, money, and help. When the kids have a big tournament of some sort, every sign in town wishes them luck. We’re a close-knit community that loves to support each other and journey through life together.

My favorite things to do here are the simple things I get to do all the time–dropping the kids off at school (I get my social fix for the day in the preschool drive-thru); making a deposit at the bank (those gals are so sweet); going to the doctor (I can even call him at home if I need to); taking the kids in to the pharmacy to pick out candy while I pick up prescriptions and chat about our current ailments; visiting with the neighbors while the kids ride their bikes in the cul-de-sac. These seem like simple things, but they are so much fun when surrounded by people you know at every turn. We may be far away from our families out here, but somehow the town seems to surround us to be our family far from home.

If you want to have stars and lights, high-end shopping and grandiose entertainment, this probably isn’t the place for you. But if you’re like me, and you love the simple things in life, come on out for a visit. You might just want to stay.

Power Hour

Jan, 07 2009
By Heather Kate
House
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While I hadn’t planned on dieting my way into 2009, I did include better housekeeping in my list of New Year’s goals. I think what I scratched on the scrap paper by my computer was, “Clean Something Every Day.” That scratch paper is as far as I have gotten in recording my desired improvements for the year. Like I said yesterday, I’m still fine-tuning these goals so that when I do finally make my list, it will be most accurate and lasting.

When I wrote “clean”, I really meant “deep clean”. Right after Christmas I got this really big spurt of energy and desired to clean my whole house cleaner than I got it when we moved in. Bill was on page with that, and we spent a whole day of our break cleaning. I spent most of the day in the bathroom with Q-tips and other various cleaning supplies. My bathroom is cleaner than it’s ever been. Every surface got a thorough washing, including the walls, cabinetry, baseboards, floors, light fixtures…everything except the ceiling, which has that ugly popcorn stuff on it. I immediately decided it was time to go room to room and do the same thing until my house sparkles.

I seldom have enough time to devote several hours in one day to cleaning a room. That’s where I got the bright idea to “deep-clean” something every day. We’re not talking light cleaning here. We’re talking vacuuming base boards, scrubbing grime out of hard to reach places, cleaning things that only a Q-tip or toothbrush can accomplish. In the beginning of this quest, I did manage to clean two ceiling fans and their fixtures, the back French doors, and the huge dining window, inside and out. That’s a step. BUT. I have not been able to bring myself to such efforts every day. I’m actually wondering if I ever will get to the next room with my tiny tools.

And that’s where the New Year’s Goals list refinement comes in. If I had already made my official list, I would have already spoiled my resolutions. Instead, I’ve found a better way to accomplish the greater goal of having a cleaner house. First of all, it’s always a bad idea to determine to do any one thing every day. You’re setting yourself up for failure, and I realize that. Honestly, I don’t even like to aim for a certain number of times per week. Then I’m constantly having to scold myself for falling down on the job. The idea with making resolutions is to improve your efforts in life in some way, so that each year you are better than the year before. I often aim for doing something every day so that I feel more committed to the task. It seldom works.

When thinking about getting my house cleaner, I started thinking back to Fly Lady. I used to subscribe to Fly Lady way back when, and I found her techniques very helpful. I’ve still maintained some of them just because I like them, like keeping the kitchen sink sparkling at all times, but I don’t remember all the details for her plan. Quite frankly, I don’t even want to look at her site, because I don’t want to force myself into adopting another plan of some sort, regardless of how good it is. I do seem to remember her having a Power Hour, though. I think it was a daily thing, but I’m not sure. In fact, I don’t even remember what she suggested you DO during Power Hour.

Monday morning I started my own Power Hour with my own rules and such. I had already spent some time over the weekend picking up junk around the house and getting the kids’ room somewhat organized again. I also started with the house being relatively clean. I determined to have Power Hour first thing every morning after dropping Will off for school. I do the same sorts of things as always, except that now I am focused about it and try to get it all done in one hour. Do you know, I actually enjoy my Power Hour? I start in the kitchen and empty the dishwasher, refill it with breakfast dishes, and put away everything that is out of place in the kitchen. I also clean all the countertops. (I do this several times a day anyway.) Then I make my way through the house picking up every random thing I see and putting it where it belongs. When I get to the back, I make all the beds and put the bedrooms back in order. Then I stop at the hamper and sort whatever laundry is in there and get a load going. I finish in the bathroom by doing my hair and makeup, if I haven’t already done them, and then hitting the sink, counter, and mirror with some Windex. The first day it took me the whole hour to do all of this, and I didn’t even have to do my makeup and hair. The second day, my house was in such good condition already, it only took me 30 minutes. I still devote an hour though. So if I have time left over, I do some cleaning chore, like vacuuming or whatnot. And the catch is, I do all of this as fast, yet thoroughly, as possible.

Having Power Hour has done three things for me. First of all, it has gotten my house cleaner. Second of all, it has made me feel like I’m exercising. Moving around the house non-stop for an hour may not be grueling exercise, but it’s enough for me to think I’m doing something heart-healthy anyway. Third of all, having such a nice-looking house has inspired and motivated me to keep it that way. I find myself picking up more throughout the day as it becomes messy and spending less time sitting around pouting about how messy my house is. I didn’t really set out to do Power Hour, per se. It just sort of came upon me. This is Day 3, and so far I am not thinking that it’s going to fizzle just yet. This just might be one goal I can reach. And at some point, I’ll probably end up hittin’ the Q-tips during Power Hour.

Our 2008 Tree

I’ve always admired people who have a Christmas tree in every room. I personally find it far too difficult and time-consuming to put up more than one tree, although I have been known to put up maybe one big tree and a couple of small ones. After all, we don’t usually finish our tree until the day or two before Christmas. We start early enough–don’t be mistaken. The day after Thanksgiving, I’m usually banging my head on the attic rafters while the rest of the world risks being trampled to death in public places. Bill drags out the Christmas decor (less and less each year, at my request), and we get the pre-lit tree put up and re-lit. But we don’t always put the ornaments on it just yet.

This tradition started about three years ago when Hunter was just a wee one. With a two-year-old and a vomiting baby, I just couldn’t bear the thought of decorating the tree with fancy ornaments and then roping it off with a baby gate, or, worse, leaving it out in the open and spending every waking minute scolding curious fingers. And with Will being such a project-lover (where did he get that from?), I thought it would be a good idea if we spent our Christmas season at the table making indestructable Christmas tree ornaments. Well, some of them are fairly destructable, but it that happens, we just plunk them in the trash can! He absolutely loved the season of perpetual projects, and our tree became a source of great pride and joy for both of us. When Christmas finally arrived, we could stand back and look at all of our handiwork, knowing we had done it all together. It was wonderful, and Will had free reign over decorating the tree and touching it afterwards.

The next year, we actually downsized and put up only a 4 1/2 foot tree on top of the console table to keep Hunter’s mischievous little self out of it. We did a mixture of the glass ornaments that Will adores and our handy dandy homemade ornaments. Then in 2007, we went back to the big tree and filled it with all of the ornaments we had made two years prior, and the kids developed the neat little game of UNdecorating and REdecorating the tree. All day, every day. It was cool at first. It gave them something to do together besides argue. But then it just became one more mess for me to manage. We decided to let that tradition fade right along with the construction paper chain.

So we come down to this year. Will is in school, and man–that takes it out of us. For a couple of minutes I even thought about leaving the big tree in the attic again. Since we traveled to my parents for Thanksgiving (yes, 20 hours one way), we went ahead and got the tree up before turkey day and let it sit there dressed with nothing but lights for a couple of weeks. I thought it was beautiful that way. One day…

When we got home, I was faced with the big decision. Do we put the glass ornaments and shoo the kids away all month? or try to salvage the handmade ones? By this time, those original handmade ornaments weren’t looking too adorable any more. We went for a happy medium, reusing the best of the old ones and making a bunch more new ones. And what fun memories we’ve made in the process! It started with an idea for a felt mitten garland I found in the Land of Nod catalog. I bought a truckload of felt while on a fabric shopping trip an hour away, and one night I sat up until the wee hours cutting out twenty-something brightly-colored mitten shapes and coordinating stripes and shapes to decorate them with. Then the kids and I spent Veteran’s Day gluing them together and then gluing buttons all over them. I sewed on ribbon hangers and let them hang them all over the tree.

The only problem was that Will really likes the glitz and glamour. Felt just doesn’t sparkle enough for him. So I picked up a cheap box of shatterproof silver balls, half of them solid and half of them glittery, and together we tied red and green grosgrain ribbon on them for hangers. Even after adding the bright red celophane lollipops we made in ‘05, the tree was still looking a bit bare. So we took the plunge and started on a paper chain that took us all the way until yesterday to complete. The whole family has been in on the process, and on any given day of the week, you might have found two or more of us sitting around sharing double-sided tape and strips of brightly-colored cardstock. It was great fun. For me and the kids anyway.

Now our 2008 tree is completely finished, and I must say, it is our cutest one yet. With all of the bright pinks and oranges, yellows and blues mixed with traditional red and lime green, it has a flavor all it’s own. The best part about it is that it’s chock-full of memories from the precious little hands that made it. I cry every other time I look at it, because I’m already sad about the gaping hole that will be left one day when the little hands have grown big and there’s noone here to cut and glue with me. I know that raising young children is only for a season, and despite the hardships and challenges, what a joyful season it is. I thank God every day for choosing to give me this joyous season of motherhood. May our little felt mittens be a symbol of our praise as we lift our hearts and hands to worship the King of Kings this Christmas season.

Foolproof?

Dec, 15 2008
By Heather Kate
Cooking
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It’s inevitable. When I get in the kitchen, there is going to be trouble. And that’s a problem, because I practically live in the kitchen. If I’m not in the bathroom (tending to kids, of course), I’m probably in the kitchen. As long as we’re moseying along doing everyday sorts of things, though, we’re all pretty safe. But mix in some baking products and a little holiday cheer and you’ve got yourself a recipe for disaster.

Back in October during a girlfriends’ weekend in Southlake, I treated myself to the holiday edition of Martha Stewart Living. Another problem. This wonderfully creative and “simple” magazine always gives me a false sense of ability when it comes to making and baking. It all looks so easy to do. And with names like “Foolproof Holiday Fudge”, Martha’s projects appear to be right up my alley. I showed Bill the picture of the Foolproof Holiday Fudge and asked if it was okay with him if I made that as Christmas gifts for his office staff. He let out a big “HA! They don’t know you, do they!” I was a little offended and almost got my feelings hurt, but I had to agree with him. I have a certain knack for messing up that which cannot be messed up. So I set out to prove him wrong.

I’m sorry to say, that all the while I got out the very few ingredients to whip out this quick white chocolate fudge, I was quietly wondering just how I would mess up something so easy. I thought it was impossible to ruin a quick and easy recipe, as long as I used the right ingredients and quantities. Well, leave it to me find a way!

I think where I went wrong was cooking a pot of chili at the same time. The temperature outside was 16 degrees this morning when I did my grocery shopping, and at a feels-like temp of 2 degrees, I decided impromptu to make a pot of chili for lunch. Nevermind that I didn’t have the recipe. I just grabbed up the stuff I thought chili would need, and I put together a one-day-award-winning chili. So, while the chili simmered, I threw together the fudge, and Bill called. I sat there stirring cream and sugar, butter and marshmallows while telling him on the phone how yummy our lunch would be. I stirred and stirred, and then all of a sudden I yelled. “Oh my GOSH! I just ruined my foolproof fudge!!” “What did you do?” he asked.

I had used my chili spoon to stir the fudge.

Unexpected Tears

I had planned to get to work as soon as putting the kids to bed tonight. Instead, I am sitting here in a pool of tears at the thought of my first-born son going off to kindergarten Wednesday. We met his teacher today, and she seems really nice and well-organized. I had a pretty good feeling about his school, and I think he is really excited about it. I’ve so loved having him at home this summer since preschool let out, and I’ve sort of dreaded this moment in time. I thought I was handling everything like a big girl, until I popped in his preschool classroom today to say hi on my way to Hunter’s 3-year-old preschool orientation. Just the sight of his little preschool room turned me into a fountain of tears I didn’t know I had.

So now I sit here, Macbook on lap, ready to work, and I can’t stop the flow. I always wondered why in the world my mom cried the day I went to kindergarten. And the day I went to middle school, and high school, and college. They’re milestones! Milestones are supposed to be times to celebrate! But instead I feel so very sad. Ever since I started my mommy career I’ve sort of looked forward to getting my freedom back once school age hit. Even this last year I’ve found myself longing for just a good half day to myself. A whole week of days just seemed like a dream. But now that it’s really time, having an empty house is the last thing I want.

Raising young children is SO HARD. The days are long, the house stays messy, and we go ‘round and ‘round about simple things. At the end of the day I’m so pooped I don’t want to pick myself up off the couch. Every day of my mommy life I think about how much closer we are to school, and that much closer to a clean house, and that much closer to peace and quiet. And right now the thought of that coveted peace and quiet does nothing but make me sob. Why is it this way? Why so hard to make it through, but so hard to let it all go?

The one thing my heart takes comfort in is knowing that I have spent as much time as possible with my children while I had them under my wings. I chose to not work full-time, because I did not want to come to this day, August 11, 2008 and regret the time that would be forever lost with my son. I have sacrificed a lot of nice things to stay home with him. I’ve worked late into the night and early in the morning to help provide some extras. I’ve gone without manicures, eating out, and nice clothes. I seldom buy anything unnecessary, and I shop on a cash-in-hand shoestring budget. And every sacrifice has paled in comparison to the delight that has been raising my children in the comfort of my own home, where they have been free to learn and grow and roam around in pajamas until the afternoon if they wanted to.

I’ve made plenty of mistakes. I’ve been frustrated too easily, cleaned too little, emailed too often, and not played on the floor nearly enough. But I’ve done my best, and I’ve tried my hardest to show my children the joy of the Lord and the ways to honor Him. I’m glad I don’t have to have a score that beats any world records to know I’m doing my job as a mommy. I am the best mommy I can be, and the blessing of raising such precious children is all the gold medal I need.

I hope I can gather myself enough to work tonight. I’ve got some serious work to do to get the next phase of my career rolling. And I hope I can gather myself before I drop Will off first thing Wednesday morning. I think I better plan something to do Wednesday morning to keep from being too sad with just one little person to keep me company. I’m afraid if I don’t, I can probably expect some tears.