’tis the season

The busiest travel day of the year

by mayberry on November 26, 2008

And I am always one of the ones traveling, every year of the *ahem*twenty*ahem* since I graduated from high school. As a kid, I spent every single holiday at home, not just in my hometown but in our house. My mother was the designated hostess for every Thanksgiving, Christmas, Easter, birthday, Mother’s Day, Father’s Day, Fourth of July and regular old Sunday meal, and the guests were always my grandmother (who lived a few blocks away) and my aunt, uncle, and cousin (who lived around the corner). In the usual kid grass-is-always-greener way, I envied my friends who got to go somewhere and do something for holidays instead of staying home which is so boring.

Be careful what you wish for, as they say. Since I turned 18, I’ve never been in my own home for Thanksgiving. Not that I ever wanted to cook a turkey in my dorm room or my Manhattan studio apartment, but you see what I mean. It feels a bit Peter Pan-ish to always be the guest and never the host. Like I’m not a Real Mom (hi, Motrin!) until I’ve stuffed the turkey and mashed the potatoes my own self.

(The reality is that my husband cooks the turkeys around here anyway.)

Truthfully, I can deal with Thanksgiving travel, even when it’s on a crazy day like today and even with two travel companions under 7 years old. They may be young, but they are experienced. Thanksgiving doesn’t have quite the baggage Christmas does (in the form of gifts, for one, and more firmly entrenched traditions, for two) and I’m above all thankful that we have families who love us and with whom we will enjoy sharing a meal.

I’m thankful for all of you, too, and hope you have a wonderful day and weekend, wherever you spend it and whatever you eat.

{ 11 comments }

Good enough for Grandma and Grandpa

by mayberry on November 14, 2008

Except for my mom, the rest of the grandparents (my dad, mother-in-law, grandmother-in-law, and oh god, mother-in-law’s gentleman friend) are very very very hard to shop for. I mean, I adore Great-Grandma Nonnie but she just turned 90 and pretty much never leaves the house. The same house she’s lived in for about 65 years.

Of course, we turn to the kid-crafted gift whenever we possibly can. Framed photos, paint-your-own-pottery–the classics. A couple of years ago my dad wanted a bathrobe. (Another staple on his wish list is always “seamless socks.” Thrilling!) I found one that met his specifications (he had several) but it was still such a boring present. So I thought the kids could doctor it up with little handprints on the pockets. Can you picture it, like I did, kind of subtle and oh-so-cute? Right! And can you also imagine how ugly the finished product was? So ugly I pitched it into the dress-up bin and started over with a brand-new robe.

It was such an obvious demonstration of how Not Crafty I am. The paint I bought was wrong, or my technique sucked, or something; anyway instead of cute kiddie handprints, we just had big blobs of paint. It looked like a dropcloth instead of a bathrobe. Fail! This is also what happens every time I try to follow a recipe for something that is supposed to be attractive-looking. The end result never looks like what it does in the instructions. NEV-ER.

Bathrobe 2.0 was slightly more successful. I traced the kids’ hands onto felt, cut them out and glued them on to the pockets of the new robe. They probably fell off the first time it went into the laundry but my dad has graciously refrained from telling me that.

This year, he’s getting plain seamless socks.

This crafty confession brought to you by Parent Bloggers Network and Klutz, publishers of very fun craft books and kits for kids. Fun because kids can play with them all by themselves. Seriously, I love them and not just because I used to work for Klutz’s parent company or because they are sponsoring a blog blast with darn good prizes. See for yourself.

{ 10 comments }

Halloweeners

by mayberry on October 31, 2008

That is what my husband calls the characters I would call “trick-or-treaters.” And a few stopped by our house tonight. We gave away about 10 bags’ worth of candy and were down to our last three tiny boxes of Dots (I didn’t buy those!) when time was up. Our favorite Halloweener was dressed as a “killer banana.” He wore a banana suit with a bloody hockey mask and carried a big scary knife. One of our friends’ kids came by dressed as a ninja. My husband disappeared into the kitchen and came back with a slice of sweet potato carved into a throwing star. He so crafty!

Look out! Killer bananas!

{ 11 comments }

Boo haiku

by mayberry on October 31, 2008

Four hundred ninety-
ninth post. How scary is that?
Happy Halloween!

Costume pictures to follow later, but here’s 2007 and 2002 through 2006. I’m coming to terms with the fact that this year’s storebought race car driver costume doesn’t hold a candle to last year’s “stick guy.” He could have gone as the naked chef, I guess.

Here’s a Blair-Witch style video of the outdoor decorations I tweeted about. (None of the stills came out.) At about 30 secs you can see the whole thing and then turn it off.

Happy Halloween. May your pillowcases be full!

Haiku Friday

{ 4 comments }

Buck you, Gym

by mayberry on January 14, 2008

We made a pilgrimage to the mall yesterday to exchange all our ill-fitting/disdained (“I don’t like turtlenecks, Mommy. I will never wear those ever”) stuff. We came out pretty much even at Macy’s but somehow at Gymboree I exchanged three old items for four new items and ending up spending $50! (Time for another WTF haiku.)

Now here’s the thing — because all the gift receipts went missing in the Christmas frenzy, my mother-in-law just gave me all the regular Gymboree receipts. I have three of them and each one is about a foot and a half long, because she was buying for three kids on behalf of four different adults.

It’s also GymBucks time. I have an insane number of GymBucks now: 250. That means I could buy $500 worth of overpriced clothes for the low price of $250.

My kids don’t need $250 worth of clothes. They don’t need 25 cents worth of clothes. I am no good at shopping ahead for upcoming seasons either (I rarely buy them clothes, period–their grandmas are so very generous). I know the sane thing would be to just throw the coupons out but it feels too much like throwing away actual money. I also know this is quite possibly the most bourgeois problem I could describe. But, what should I do … can I sell these things on eBay? Donate them somewhere? Would it be worth buying a bunch of stuff then reselling it online or at a consignment store? Do you want them? Halp.

{ 15 comments }

Damn straight, Dorothy

by mayberry on December 30, 2007

I’m back from our Christmas odyssey and I have to say, it kind of sucked. Although I didn’t face lost loved ones, illness, major family dysfunction, or insane travel snafus, the small annoyances piled up until I couldn’t pick out which one was worst.

Was it the 15-hour outbound journey, including a six-and-a-half-hour layover in Detroit?

Or was it the snide comments about my children’s hygiene/my parenting? (what? no daily baths? wearing pajamas MORE THAN ONCE?)

Was it having to wrap all the Santa gifts at midnight on Christmas Eve because all the cousin’s presents were wrapped, and would it make sense for hers to be wrapped and our kids’ to be unwrapped? Of course not.

Was it our niece getting two of the items on Jo’s wish list and Jo getting none (because they were too heavy to be shipped halfway across the country and then back, just so they could be under the right tree on the right day)?

Maybe it was the ridiculously archaic ideas about hospitality and etiquette that resulted in my being offered food every 10 minutes, like it or not; to the point where I maturely respond by refusing to accept anything, then sneak into the kitchen later to help my own damn self. And that also result in far more discomfort among the part of guests than if you would just stop TRYING SO HARD.

Or! Was it spending literally hours every night putting one or the other child to bed, a parenting chore I loathe anywhere, but especially away from home. Waiting for them to fall asleep is like watching paint dry. In a white room. With no windows.

Hmm … Maybe the worst was counting the minutes until we could go home, only to be delayed a full 24 hours by a snowstorm. At that point I — who rarely cries, unless watching a particularly sappy TV commercial — shed several fat salty tears.

Actually, I know what was the worst. It was knowing how childish I was being. That while I was being facetious with my list of rules, deep down I still have a very hard time letting go of those childhood traditions and realizing that Christmas can go on without them. It might not be the same Christmas, but it can still be a good one. After all, I still got to share it with the ones who are at the very tip-top of my list.

{ 6 comments }

Yep, this one’s a keeper

by mayberry on December 22, 2007

These two are, actually.

all it took were two candy canes

Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night! See you next week.

{ 11 comments }

Christmas rules and regulations.

by mayberry on December 20, 2007

From Wicked Good Cookies on PicasaNB: I will be checking this list twice.

  1. The tree: must be live, with delicate lights and non-generic ornaments. See details.

  2. The outdoor decorations: must be composed of white lights and natural materials only. Nothing that requires a motor.

  3. The cards: must show at least some small effort beyond stuffing, licking, and stamping.
  4. The wish list: must contain ideas and suggestions, but not be so specific as to stifle all creativity on the part of the gift-giver.

  5. The cookies: Must include thumbprints with frosting. Never jelly.

  6. The schedule: Gifts must be opened on Christmas morning. Not Christmas Eve. Except one or two just to take the edge off.

  7. The stockings: Must contain an orange. What can I say? It’s a rule.

  8. The gift-opening: Must occur in sequence from youngest opener to oldest, one gift at a time so all can be properly displayed and admired.

  9. The traveling: Must be of the grandparents to the grandchildren, and not the other way around.
    a. Exception 1: presence of great-grandparents over the age of 85.
    b. Exception 2: Hawaii.

  10. The menu: Must not include turkey. What do you think this is, Thanksgiving or something?

  11. The clothing: Must not be thematic, unless worn by a small child.

  12. The songs: Must be sung loudly and with gusto, preferably while seated alongside Harry Connick, Jr., at the piano.

  13. The weather: Must be white. Sparkly, even.

{ 15 comments }

Nothing says Christmas like a big frosty mug

by mayberry on December 17, 2007

Jo did a worksheet at school about the five senses, with a Christmas theme. “At Christmas I see…”, “At Christmas I hear…”, and so on. My favorite was “At Christmas I taste… rut biey.” Mmm! I know I always enjoy a nice A&W with my roast beast.

And now: The 2007 Holiday Photo Outtakes Post.

Merry Christmas from your friends at the Headbangers’ Ball!

When I’m done with this candy cane, I’m coming for you, Blondie

What he doesn’t realize is that I’ve rigged up my extra super strong vacuum cleaner inside that fireplace. Perfect for sucking up little brothers.

As soon as he loosens his grip on that candy wrapper, he’s out of here.

And then he was gone, leaving behind only a cheap ukulele. Happy holidays!

{ 6 comments }

Decorating: check

by mayberry on December 11, 2007

The stockings have been hung by the chimney. With care, even! So I’m feeling (a little) better about this whole Christmas thing. On Saturday we acquired and decorated the tree and put Santa in his rightful place. On Sunday we dragged the whole fam damily to the mall for a gift shopping blitz and accomplished quite a bit.

Jo picked out a really elegant nightgown for my mom. She had her little change purse with her, containing her entire life savings, and wanted to buy the bright red socks that matched the night-shirt. “How do I make fifteen dollars?” she asked. “You’d need sixty quarters,” I said. She consulted her purse. “How else do I make fifteen dollars?” I hated to break it to her: “Well … you would have to have one hundred and fifty dimes.” As her other grandma would say, the poor lamb. Fifteen dollars might as well have been a million. I offered to buy the socks and all was well.

…until we returned home that evening, and realized the little pink change purse was gone. Cue waterworks. We checked all our pockets and bags — nothing. We distracted Jo, coaxed her and Opie into the bathtub and then into bed. But more than an hour and a half after she’d fallen asleep (when I was deep into my online shopping session, getting everything I hadn’t picked up at the mall) she woke up and burst into tears, brokenhearted at her loss. I couldn’t do anything to calm her and she eventually cried herself to sleep.

But! Happy ending! It only took two phone calls the next day to locate the precious purse, carefully stowed in a locked drawer at Williams-Sonoma. Jeff picked it up and couldn’t resist buying this as well. So much for present overload.

Unrelated (well, draw your own conclusions): Care to comment?

{ 13 comments }

Next Entries →