This place is a web of lies! My blog included!
* as long as you don't check your inbox.
Well, maybe the word "lies," is a bit much. I don't think it's intentionally misleading to put your best foot forward in life. To remove the cobwebs from one's hair and brush the teeth isn't exactly lying. It's courtesy. And most of what I'm talking about is that. In the world of blogging moms and momming bloggers, there's a bit of tweaking, a bit of fudging, to make sure that the whole world doesn't have to see the bedhead and chihuahua droppings. Unless you want to see that sort of thing, in which case, find another blog, sicko.
No, the lies are not being told to you by that reschooling stay-at-home bloggermom, with her 25 days of handmade organic nature solstice crafts, performed by angelic children who stare at one thing forever and never whine. They are in your own mind, being told to yourself! If you look at that blog, with its lack of sticky places and noise and think, "Well now I feel like dirt." you have a couple of choices.
Sure, you could get up, and do some of the stuff, sitting around you, waiting to be done. That's always a good approach. But the easier, pettier option would be to remind yourself that the online mom in question is hiding her imperfections, and is probably standing on checkers and doll clothes, yelling "JUST A SECOND!" upstairs to a kid on the toilet while she snaps that perfect shot of her rustic hand-hewn Legos. If you think she's any better than you at keeping an even temper, or a clean counter top, it's just because you are only seeing what she wants you to see.
Now, officially, I advocate the first reaction, in all areas of life. Proactive, productive, and just plain good for you. I employed it often when I got that familiar drowning feeling, looking at Advent calendars on Pinterest. Get up, dance with a kid, do some dishes, glue googly eyes onto something: the choices are endless.
The second approach, well, we've all done that; reminded ourselves that the people around us aren't as perfect as they would have us believe. And I'm about to surprise you, because I want you to do that with me. Spot the stains! Smirk smugly at the smudges! Revel in my short-comings, for they are many. I'm about to make it really easy too. I'm here today to share an idea for an Advent calendar. It's odd and fun, and way too late to do anyone any good for nearly another whole year! That, my friends, is how I roll. And it gets better. We didn't even get the Advent calendar made on time this month.
See, this family loves to anticipate a big date, and counting down with fun and candy just seems like an automatic win. So Advent calendars always caught my fancy. My friends have lovely ones, and I've considered making one according to one of the millions of adorable homespun ideas out there, but never even remembered they exist until sometime around the first of December. Then, with a Christmasy feeling just starting to motivate and inspire me a million different ways, the idea of squeezing in another project seems impossible, so we manage another year without counting down our December.
Four days into this December, I was telling Thomas about Advent calendars; their origin, and all of the variations on the idea. I ended up saying, "We need twenty four of something that we can put something in." which is when Thomas' eyes lit up and he said, "EGGS!" That was such a great idea, it didn't matter that we'd be almost a week late by the time it was implemented. We blew the contents out of twenty four eggs and marked their numbers with melted beeswax and a paint brush. The wax is clear and resisted the dye with which we were about to color the front of the egg. We set the blown egg, number side down, into a little dish of food coloring, water, and vinegar for a few minutes. Then, onto a dry towel. They sat on the woodstove afterward, to dry, and the heat helped melt away the beeswax, leaving a clear number. They were then strung up, but not before stuffing each egg with a rolled strip of paper. A button strung under the egg helps keep the string in place, and adds a bit of zazz.
All of the eggs were hung on our big Christmas tree, and each day, we broke one. Starting a week late meant that we enjoyed a major smashing of six eggs on our first night. Some papers read, "Make cookies with Henry," "Make a wreath," or "Watch the Nutcracker," but the favorite ones exclaim "CANDY!" and everyone gets chocolate.* Each day, a kid cracks an egg and we obey, slavishly eating our chocolate and celebrating together. It was great fun, and helped the younger two wrap their little minds around the remaining chunk of time between that present moment and the approaching Christmas morning.
I know we'll do it again next year, and maybe we'll even get it made in November!
*I learned pretty quickly that if this crew of mine didn't get chocolate each day, things would get riotous. So, in the interest of Peace on Earth and all that, I gave out candy whether the egg ordered me to or not. I also gained five pounds, but that's for another post.
