Pleasantly Surprised: Spring Break 2013

Considering that the weather has been decidedly un-springlike and the majority of the town has been jaunting around in tropical locations for the last ten days, I thought I'd coast into this day on fumes, just barely making it through our "staycation" with my sanity intact. (Side note: I hate the word "staycation." No reason, just do.) But it's been mostly just me and my girls, and it's been surprisingly OK. I planned ahead, tried to make sure we had at least one above-average thing to look forward to each day, and then let the chips fall where they may. Turns out, we have a bunch of fun together. Turns out, taking a break from the normal schedule (school, homework, soccer, piano, yoga, dinner, bath, bedtime) is refreshing even if you're not in Florida or Mexico or, you know, someplace exotic where the temperatures in April feel ready to hover above the forties.

I just uploaded the entirety of the photos from my phone from the last ten days to the computer, and there are pictures in this batch that remind me of things I had already forgotten we did. Which makes me realize just how handy this little computer in my pocket can be. I know there have been a bunch of articles lately about the dangers of valuing your phone more than the people in front of your face, about the horrible things that ensue when kids, teens, and tweens get caught up in social media, but I'm noticing, this week especially, the way that snapping a quick picture of a good moment helps buoy my spirit - both when I take the picture and later, when I find it again. Just now, I smiled over images of a sweet sleepover, a sunny family afternoon on the soccer field, a chilly but beautiful beach hike, rollerskating with friends, hula-hooping, frozen yogurt treats, pedicures, piano practice, Easter at my parents', happy hour with the cousins, and morning snuggles with Jemma.

Along those lines, the girls and I embraced a fun little photo challenge this week. I've passed down my point-and-shoot to the girls now that I have my DSLR, and both girls have old phones that can only take pictures and play music, so April 1 seemed like the perfect time to kick off Positively Present's 30-Day Gratitude Photo Challenge. It's posted on the fridge, and it's encouraging to see the girls look each morning for their challenge, then spend a little time seeking out (and, hopefully, feeling grateful for) that item in their day. I'm sure it'll fall by the wayside once the regular schedule kicks in, but here are my first seven days:

:: books (gift to myself for no reason)

 :: smile

 :: favorite food (Harmony pizza)

 :: sky

 :: leaves (the hundred daffodil and tulip bulbs I planed in the fall are emerging)

 :: something funny

(That last one was taken just minutes before something much funnier happened, which was our entire family jumping our guts out at Sky Zone for an hour. If only I hadn't emptied my pockets, we could have photos of Jemma belly-flopping into the foam pit, Jason dunking on the basketball hoops, and Annie and I parkouring off the trampoline walls in unison. I'm going to be sore tomorrow.)

The girls have their own blurry unique photos in each of these categories, and I intend to combine them into some sort of collage at the end of the month. I've kept gratitude journals before, and we've had Thanksgiving trees each fall, but this is a new, easy, more visual way to stop each day and remember all the little moments that make up a very happy life.

Weekend Project: Advent Calendar

The fact that Jason is in Chicago for most of the weekend + the fact that the girls have already been asking me for weeks "How many days until Christmas?" = this weekend's project, the Advent calendar.

Our family doesn't own a re-usable Advent calendar.  We just . . . don't.  It never seemed like a holiday necessity until about last year, and now that I'm actively looking around for one, I'm not drawn enough to anything to want to spend that much money on it.  Plus, I don't want anything where I have to hide candy inside, then listen to my children ask for the candy constantly, then feel as though the advent calendar is adding to the sugar overload of the holidays.

But then I found this, and it's perfect.  It's a paper (envelopes, to be precise) countdown-type calendar that kids can create with a little help, some envelopes, 24 slips of paper, the downloadable PDF for the numbers, some kitchen twine or ribbon, and clothespins.  We got started on it this morning, and though our version does not look as lovely as the one I found on design*sponge, we had fun deciding on activities to put inside the envelopes.  Jemma glued the numbers to the envelopes, and Annie wrote the activities on slips of paper to go inside.

Since we normally would have made a Christmas List for our backdoor blackboard, we've just assigned each activity to a day and we'll count down to Christmas with fun activities like "Write a letter to Santa," "Make Christmas cookies," "Read the Christmas story," "Draw a picture for your teacher," "Have a fire," "Drink hot cocoa," "Dance to The Nutcracker," and "Decorate your bedroom" instead of pieces of candy.

Fall, Preserved

The color is probably at its peak right now, and every walk to school and drive to town has us pointing and oohing at the trees.  Annie and Jemma love to swish through the fallen leaves on the sidewalk and jump wildly into the pile of orange and red that our neighbor raked together for just that purpose.  I mostly, true to form, want to press the pause button and bottle all this color up, so sad to know that in a few short weeks, a strong wind will have sent the last leaf to the ground and we'll be faced with months of grays and browns and whites.  

Yesterday Jemma and I did a fun project that will let me preserve a tiny bit of this riotous fall color.  Every year, I try to bring a few leaves inside - maybe scatter them down the center of the dining table, or tuck a few under a vase on the mantel - but they always lose their luster and crumble after just a few days.  So when I read about this idea, I knew we had to try it.  Here's what you do:

Walk to the store to buy a block of paraffin wax (look for it at the grocery store, near the canning supplies) and one of those disposable aluminum pans (baking aisle).  On your way home from the store, give your three-year-old the task of gathering the most beautiful assortment of leaves she can find.  (Choose some yourself, too, because you can't resist.)  When you get home, cover your kitchen counter with newspaper, then wax paper.  Drag a chair over to your stove and get ready to melt the paraffin wax in the aluminum pan over low heat on the stove, like so:

While you wait for the wax to melt, lecture your three-year-old 45 times about how HOT! the wax will be.  It will be HOT!  Tell her to only hold on to the stem of the leaf.  When the wax has mostly melted, take a leaf by the stem, submerge it completely into the wax, let a bit drip back into the pan, and then lay it to dry on the wax paper.

Let the leaves dry completely, then peel them easily from the wax paper.  When you finish, you'll have dozens of beautiful waxed leaves to use in art projects, put in glass bowls on your dining room table, string up to make garlands, and tuck into vases.  

Jemma and I had fun doing this, and I'm so pleased to have little pieces of fall color to scatter all around my house that will last at least until Thanksgiving.  Because, sadly, the leaf pile outside is going to get sucked up by the city trucks at the curb sooner than I'd like, and then there will be no more of this:

or this: