Making an Advent Calendar; or, Preparing for Preparation

I made an Advent Calendar yesterday:

Cue: ooohing and aahhing. I better see this on Pinterest tomorrow! Just kidding. Mostly.

Inspired by...well, a lot of things. You can go to Pinterest and search for advent calendars and see all the gorgeous DIY options out there. None of them really worked perfectly for me, because I didn't want to buy containers, but I still wanted the option to contain candy or small presents if I wanted to (in future years - Jonny and I don't need any more candy during the holidays!).

I'm not going to write a tutorial, because tutorials take a lot of effort and time and I don't want to and it's my blog so I can do what I want. Thank goodness for all the wonderful people who do like writing tutorials, because I used them a lot. I folded origami cups out of Christmasy cardstock - one of those large square pages divided into four parts. Then I stuck numbers on them, printed from this wonderful free printable. (I had to print two pages to a sheet in order to shrink the numbers to half their size, so they'd fit nicely on the cups.) I made the star from this tutorial, modified slightly to make it flat.

The frame once held this guy:

Currently unavailable on Amazon.com

But the glass broke about four years ago, and Einstein was retired. Though it was a great quote for a thirteen-year-old oddball (thanks, Mom and Dad!), I wasn't rocking it as a grown-up. But I kept the frame in the hopes I could use it for some great purpose. I bought a piece of foamboard and covered it in brown craft paper. Then I stapled the back flap on each origami cup to a strip of paper, secured the paper strips and the cups to the board with duct tape (on the back) and glue, and stuck it in the frame. Voila! The trip to Hob Lob to get the foamboard took almost as much time as the rest of the project. Oh, except the Pinteresting. But I was doing that anyway. ;)

Each cup has a slip of paper with an easy Christmasy activity on it. Jonny and I both get to write down 12 activities, and neither of us know what the other is writing. So we may end up drinking hot cocoa twice, or sitting through more than one Rankin-Bass special. But I figured that if we both wanted to do it, we would probably like it enough to do it twice. Plus, half of all the activities will be a pleasant surprise! And if it turns out that he writes "kissing under the mistletoe" on every slip of paper...well, Advent is about sacrifice, too. Gee, that will be awfully rough. ;)

Love,

Katie

Keeping up with the Joneses

Earlier today, on Gchat, with Jonny:

11:32 AM me: Ok, I'm in a bit of an acquisition frenzy.

  http://www.overstock.com/Home-Garden/Caravan-Medallion-Multi-Rug-5-x-8/6751220/product.html

11:33 AM wantwantwantwantwantwant

11:36 AM I went to FM and found some fabric...and then I thought, well, I shouldn't buy fabric until I get a rug, and I WANT A RUG AND A FABRIC AND A PERFECT HOUSE AND YARD AND EVERYTHING AND A PONY.

  whew.

  I feel better now.

  seriously though. Forget flowers. Buy me a rug.

  Just kidding.

  Mostly.

  Mostly kidding.

11:37 AM I hope you are amused by this one-sided exchange, and not disgusted with my materialism.

  Or annoyed at having your wife interrupt your work.

11:40 AM How's about we don't buy anyone Christmas presents this year, and instead buy ourselves presents? I want a rug.

11:41 AM ok, just kidding about that one. Really.
Later, Jonny reminded me that we have been saving eating-out money for occasions such as these, and that my half of the pot o' money was technically enough to buy the rug. (I was planning to save it for a porch swing...well, a yard-swing, since we don't have a porch. But you get the idea.)

12:24 PM me: ...oh.

  damn.

  Now I actually have to consider it.

 Jonny: :)

  Sorry, didn't mean to make things harder.

12:25 PM me: no, it's ok!

  It's not harder. It's just more complicated.

  It's like saying, yes, you can eat the cheesecake, but you have to skip dinner. Instead of just saying, NO CHEESECAKE. MAN UP.

 Jonny: Or, in average person parlance, "It's not harder. It's just harder."

  

I'm a bit childish when I really want something.

Anyway, I debated it all afternoon and tried to envision it in my living room. I read every product review. I imagined stretching out on it and burrowing my face into its cheap low-pile. (It is only $100, after all.) I reminded myself that I will only do this once, because after Gus spits up on it a few times, it will smell like sour milk. I pictured myself cleaning spit-up off the rug every 24 hours.

But our living room desperately needs a textile infusion - it looks and feels cold and uninviting. And I thought it would be much easier to match new drapes to a rug I already have than it would be to try to buy a rug online and match it to my drapes. (Colors are never quite what you expect.)

So I clicked "Confirm Purchase," and felt that lovely adrenaline rush that only spending moderate to large sums of money can give me. And there was much squee-ing. And hopefully when it arrives next Monday, it will be just right, and not too orange, or too beige, or too brown, or...

It will be just right.

(Hopefully.)

Love, 

Katie

When the baby doesn't sleep

When the baby doesn't sleep
I cuss and slam the doors
I cry, "I am the Babe
Destroyer of Sleep
Ruiner of ambition
Bringer of despair!"

I scream and throw things
He screams too
We scream at each other

And then I stomp away
To the closet where I keep the sheets
I fling open the doors
Grabbing at the stack of towels
The old ones Grandma gave me to clean baby messes
(because, when you're young, all your towels are new)
I bury my face into the threadbare terrycloth
and sob and scream, chest heaving
and I smell my grandmother

And she is here, with her baby
Crying tears that burn
And her baby is here too, with her baby
In the middle of the night
And we're all screaming together
Banging our fists against the wooden slats
The baby, the mother, the grandmother, the great-grandmother
And I am not alone

I go back to my baby
Draw him from the crib
And wrap him in the crocheted afghan
That my mother used to wrap me in

We rock and rock and rock
as he sobs, tiny chest heaving
and I whisper,
"It's ok, I'm here."

Changing the world

When I was young, I set out to change the world. When I grew older, I perceived that this was too ambitious, so I set out to change my state. This too, I realized as I grew older was too ambitious, so I set out to change my town. When I realized I could not even do this, I tried to change my family. Now, as an old man, I know that I should have started by changing myself. If I had started with myself, maybe then I would have succeeded in changing my family, the town, or even the state - and who knows, maybe even the world! 

- Unknown Rabbi

I don't know where this quote comes from. (Maybe I should ask a librarian!) I heard it in a sermon last week. But it has been true to my experience, at least recently. God does a lot of fantastic miracles, but one of the most incredible is the healing and sanctifying of his children's souls. I think sometimes the world (and the Enemy) can distract us from this holy work by confronting us with "larger, more important" problems to worry and pray about: war, famine, elections, sickness. We certainly should think and pray about such things. But so many times when I bring these things to God, He responds by bringing to light the dark hidden places within myself that He wants to right. Perhaps healing a broken world starts by healing broken people.