knee-deep in higher learning

Thursday, December 27, 2012

Brain Storms: Our Cracked Up Advent Calendar

This one goes out to all the baby mamas out there. You know this sharp clean little internet world, where the screen is bright, the spaces clear, and you can escape the cluttered imperfection of life?*
 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.

Friday, December 7, 2012

Tails and Tidings: Eight Puppies are One

Today is many things. It is the seventh of December, one week into the last month of 2012. The small print on today's square inch of your nearest calendar will tell you that it is also Pearl Harbor Day, a significant day in United States history. Seventy one years ago today, a U.S. Naval Base in Hawaii was bombed, setting off U.S. involvement in what was our planet's second World War.

One year ago today, history was made here at the BU. Our house was puppy-bombed, and I met this lovely lady.


Zelda, our youngest, biggest dog, was born in our living room one year ago, along with her seven brothers and sisters. Their mom was a shelter dog in need of a foster home with room for nine, as she was abandoned while pregnant. We loved her right away, named her Holly, and did our best to take care of her. There was even a time when we thought she might stay with us after her puppies left, but it didn't work out that way. She needed us for a short time only, and now lives near Portland. I contacted her new humans back when she went to live there, and she seemed to settle in right away.

 PUPDATE:

Jimmy, one of the two boys, is living it up a few miles north of me, at the Sea Haven Motel & Guest House, with his devoted parents, and big brother, DJ. He is a lucky boy who runs on the beach and meets new people regularly.

Judy, the firstborn, made a big move to New Mexico, where she is making me jealous, getting to spend so much time with my friend forever, Leah, and her magical wonderful family of beautiful interesting people. Also, of the pups, Judy probably enjoys the most sunshine.

The following pupdate about Maggie Mae is lifted from Maureen's (who adopted Jimmy) comment below.

"Maggie Mae is happy, safe and living the ubber urban life in PDX with her owners, Sue & Rich, and their complement of cats. She has traveled to the San Juan Islands and other points north, alas, still staying in the cooler, less sunshiny, NW."

 I appreciate the information she can provide, as close friends with Maggie's adoptive parents. It was delightful to meet Sue and Rich, and feel so good about a puppy's future.

Zelda stayed here and has proven herself to be smart, sweet, and able to fold herself into a flattened dogpacket so that she may will herself through the centimeter of space under the fabric of a pig wire fence. I need to find a use for that talent of hers.

Good thing she is abundantly charming; always coming when called, even when liberated from leash or backyard. She is brilliant, and can access that intelligence for quick learning, even though her brain has been a clanging storm of puppy for the last year. I love her dearly, and feel fortunate that she came into existence in our home, like two of my kids.


I also marvel at her size and strength. It's been said before, but what hasn't? They grow so fast.

The remaining pups:

Unfortunately, two of the female puppies are not still with their adoptive homes. They were returned to the care of the shelter. As much as I would have loved for it to work out, I have been in the position to have to return a dog to the place from whence it was adopted. I hated myself too much in those moments to bring up judgment for those people who had to admit that they could not own their puppy forever. At least they didn't just leave it somewhere.

And the other two, (a female and a male) I have no idea about. I wish them well, and hope they have a happier than usual day today. Perhaps they were adopted by someone who knows they were born on Pearl Harbor day, and will toss an extra scrap their way.

I think about Holly most of all. At the time, it was very difficult to admit that she could not stay here, and when I see her in Zelda, I feel a twinge of something.


It's not really sadness, because who knows how things are supposed to happen? It's a feeling of awe at having touched that flow of time and matter we call birth. She reminds me so much of her mother, but there's something else there. The genes of another dog, and her new personality, having known only this family as her people, and our dogs as her pack.

Alright, I'm putting on the puppy-dog face for some shameless begging, so watch out:

For some of us, this time of year is for acting on good intentions. If you live in a fairly clean and safe neighborhood, chances are, you have your local animal shelter, in part, to thank for it. Not only did our Tillamook Animal Shelter take in a pregnant dog and find us to care for her and her puppies, they provide a valuable service for our town, daily, nightly, no matter what it demands of them. And they are always in the mood for a contribution. Volunteering, fostering, donations, sharing animal postings from a shelter's Facebook page: animal shelters rely on the generosity of their community, as do the animals in their care, as do all of us who don't have to contend with stray pigs in the streets. So, if you love animals, or if you hate them and hope never to encounter a stray one, show some love to your favorite local shelter. Do it because it's a holiday. Do it because you get that giving really is better than receiving. Do it for all the puppies.

And that business about giving beating the pants off of receiving isn't just a bunch of puppy piddle. Being there for Holly and her puppies brought our family a strong feeling of harmony. Through all of the ups and downs, we as a family pulled together and never felt the burden wasn't being paid off exponentially. We'll never forget the Christmas when we hosted a litter of chocolatey sweet puppies, and when we look at Zelda, there is proof that all of that wasn't just some slobbering stinking dream.