Advent Gifts

People like me run around in a blur this time of year, frantically trying to finish up Christmas, work, laundry, everything. People like me do not complete shopping by Thanksgiving. People like me do not have the house fully decorated by the end of Thanksgiving weekend. But at least...

People like me.



Moving right along.

For those of you whose holidays are under better control than mine, I offer up to you a way to take these last few days totally over the top.

Beep received a box from her Grammy filled with adorable little gifts, each package labeled with a date.  Every day she gets to open another present to reveal some little tidbit of pre-Christmas fun.

Advent gifts really are the most fun if they're inexpensive or homemade, and the possibilities are endless.  Think about:

A pomegranate

$1.00 bill to buy a 99 cent smartphone app

Paper dolls printed from here (Free download!)

Pack of gum

A homemade treat

Fun socks

Fresh pack of hair bands

Bundle of crayons

Take a spin through your craft box, grocery store, or the dollar aisle at Target.  Then wrap those little babies up and dole them out over the next few days! 

You're organized.  And gosh darnit, people like you.

A Very Muddy Christmas

Remember this summer, when I was convinced it would never rain again? 

I was wrong. 

It's been raining here, off and on, for the past couple of weeks.  We are so incredibly grateful.  We are also so very muddy.  The drought this summer wiped out all the grass, and the rainfall runs everywhere and soaks the bare earth.  It's not cold enough to freeze the ground, or to freeze the precipitation, so it just works into the vulnerable bare earth and becomes a slick, gummy mess.  Words really fail me here, so instead I'll just show you.  By the time I took these pictures we were starting to dry out- and then it rained more and it got even worse- but you'll get the idea.

(And as I do so, allow me to remind you I grew up in the Midwest, where this time of year brings blankets of pristine white snow, frosty grass underfoot, frozen outdoor ice rinks, and sledding.  Got your mental image?)

 Beep didn't let mud stop her from feeding her deer.

Stop! In the name of love...

The other day, Junior spent some time hanging out while Cabbage stripped his stall.  He's looking good these days, though he's still on rest following his surgery in July.

The front of Junior's big stall is a pen open to the sky... as evidenced by the muddy morass it's become.  Cabbage has been layering it with straw and sprinkling lime powder on it in an effort to dry it out a little.  The mess laughs at Cabbage.  I heard it.  It's evil.

Obviously, boots are required footwear around here these days. 

I won't show you pictures of our mud room, but let's just say it's aptly named. I'm on strike from cleaning the floors until the mud dries up, or we grow old, retire, and sell the place to move to Boca Raton.  Whichever comes first.

Goodbye from the mud pits.

Dog Hair and Other Delicacies

Yesterday, while in the throes of a few parentally listless minutes, I posted a deep and soul-searching question on facebook: Exactly how many times can I let my baby dump, then eat, her Cheerios before I'm obligated to pick them up? 

My friends dusted off their child rearing manuals, cracked their knuckles, and dove in.
"I wait until the reloaded bowl has at least six dog hairs in it..." [mother of 2]

"I wait until my child's gagging on the dog hairs... unless of course said dogs eat the Cheerios before the bowl can even be reloaded once." [mother of 1 with 2 dogs]

"If you don't watch her so closely, you won't worry so much." [mother of 2]

"You are doing everything you can to build her immune system. If it makes you feel any better, I let my kids eat Cheerios they drop outside.  Look away..." [mother of twins]

These are precisely the qualities I appreciate most in my friends. A ready sense of humor, self deprecation, practicality, and above all: flawless parenting.

I am not a fan of pretending things are perfect.  Perfect is plastic, and fake, and totally not interesting.  Fortunately for me, by those parameters my life is kale-certified organic, uber real and ultra fascinating.

I don't mind editing my life for public consumption on this blog or social media, but I don't want it airbrushed beyond recognition.  And I'd rather relate to other people than try to be better than them.  That's why I often mention here that my house is underdecorated and overly messy.  My horse misbehaves, even though I know better. My baby is bald. (but she's perfect anyway. bad example.) 

I've only been a parent for a short while, but the struggles with striving for perfect, or even feeling "good enough" started early. Pregnant women are judged more, and more harshly, than any other demographic I've been part of. Infants invite endless advice and nonstop comparisons. Toddlerhood and its accompanying emergent personality suggests to the world in general that you are riddled with parental incompetence.   

It's in defiance of this seeping sense of inadequacy and our society's obsession with perfection crap that I posted the Cheerios question, and thereby try to keep perspective and balance in my life.  (Through a question about dirty Cheerios?  Weird, I know.)  Anyway, I find that laying bare these particularly minute inadequacies is one of my small joys in life. Based on the responses, my kid's not the only one occasionally eating unhygenic cereal. Cheers to that.

Rose colored glasses?  No thank you, I'll just keep working toward making my peace with imperfection and take ownership of my own real, gritty, dumped-cereal life.  La vie en rose.