Santa, Santa, HO HO HO!

Every year since forever, also known as since we had kids, we have taken the boys to the local mall to have overpriced photos made with Santa.  $39.99 for two 5x7s and a keepsake ornament?  Don't mind if I do.  After all, they need to see Santa, right?  RIGHT?

Anyway, this year we decided to take a totally different approach.  We had heard about a train ride about 45 minutes from our house where Santa visits with all the children ON THE TRAIN and hot chocolate and cookies are served and it's all magical and fabulous and OMG JUST BY MENTIONING IT I CAN FEEL THE CHRISTMAS JOY IN THE AIR!!!

I pictured gently falling snow as the train whizzed by wonderful landscapes and the occasional fabulously decorated houses.  I pictured lovely decor that would make an excellent backdrop for all the photos I would get to take, and pictured a magical afternoon that we would all treasure in our memories forever.

We paid the equivalent of a black market kidney for the opportunity (mine's still for sale, by the way - message me if interested) and kept it a big secret from the boys.  

Finally the day arrived.  We pumped the boys up with vague statements about grand adventures, then we drove and drove though twisty and turning back roads for what seemed like forever before coming up on the train station in the middle of nowhere.   

They were delighted.

We picked up our tickets, waited a REALLY long time to use the ONE restroom, and then boarded the train.   

Maybe all the "THERE ARE NO RESTROOMS AVAILABLE ON THE TRAIN!!!" signs, coupled with all the screaming children should have tipped me off, but I remained oblivious until we stepped into the car.

The smell of... something was so strong that my first instinct was to turn around.  I looked at R and said "Do you smell that?"  Of course he did, by the way.  You could not miss it.  It wasn't until we were seated and I was looking around that it occurred to me.  All these children - and all the children before them, and all the children before them - probably had to pee somewhere, and it was likely that they had to pee while sitting in my seat. 

Nice, huh?

The boys didn't really seem to notice or care.  As the car filled up, another strange phenomenon happened.  Every single child - EVERY. SINGLE. ONE. - in our car was screaming.  Not just a gentle cry or an occasional loud shriek about something - no, they were all FLAT OUT SCREAMING BLOODY MURDER.  I looked at our boys who had just been reprimanded for fidgeting too much, looked at R and said "Sometimes we need to go places like this just to put it into perspective how good our kids really are, don't we?  Fidget away, boys, fidget away."

And seriously, even after the rocky start I still expected something magical to happen.

Spoiler alert!!!  It didn't.  

Oh it was fine (aside from the pee smell and screaming. SO. MUCH. SCREAMING.).  

The train itself went sssllloooooowwwwwwllllllyyyy through a lot of back yards and past some really muddy fields.  We did get to see a lot of old cars on blocks that we commented on, so that was fun. 

The boys got hot chocolate and cookies. 

Mrs. Claus came through first and totally botched the words to Frosty the Snowman.  You would think that would be part of the training, right?  Santa came next and the boys got to visit with him and let their Christmas wishes be known, and I got to snap two blurry pics and one where Zack was looking at something else entirely. Whatever.  It's probably still not as bad as the year I had to Photoshop Cooper in the picture.  

Scary upright Rudolph was next, and my kids weren't having anything AT ALL to do with him. See?

Emaciated Frosty rounded out the Fab Christmas Four, and soon enough we were on our way back to the train station. 

I know I set myself up for failure when I have some sort of ideal "moment" in my head.  Any time you add kids into any scenario, chances of ideal are pretty slim.

But the pee smell?  I totally wasn't counting on that.

After we escaped, I looked at R and said "Well, now we know,"  and he repeated "Now we know."

Next year, it's back to mall Santa for us.   

He usually only smells like gin, and where I'm coming from, that's a HUGE step up. 

This week's prompt:

Santa pictures!!!

  

Teaching my kids to receive gifts graciously.

Once fateful Christmas day when he was not quite three, Zack tore open a Christmas gift from some relative or another and immediately blurted "BUT I ALREADY HAVE THIS! Is there anything else for me?"  

I shushed and covered and all that, but the damage was done, and for someone like Zack who is really, truly, painfully honest, he couldn't understand what he did wrong.  He DID already have it, and why shouldn't he be able to say that out loud?

Since then, I've made a point to talk to my kids often about what it is or isn't ok to say when receiving gifts, and we have a crash refresher course before every gift giving holiday like Christmas and birthdays.

Has it been 100% effective?  Of course not.  Like most of parenting it's totally trial and error as to what will stick and what will wash away like the crumbs of yesterday's chocolate pie, but I've talked to my kids about this SO much that I feel like we are worlds ahead of where we used to be.

I let my kids be in on the selecting and giving of gifts for others.
My kids get to pick out (with minimal interference from me) gifts for each other, gifts for their dad, gifts for their friends and extended family.  Sometimes they hit it completely out of the park, and sometimes they pick out orange body glitter for their middle aged aunts (true story), but by going through the process of selecting and giving gifts for others, they learn empathy for what the gift giver goes through for them.  Both my boys LOVE giving gifts and I love hearing them talk about how much so-and-so loved the whatever-it-was that they chose.  It's a subtle lesson for the art of graciously receiving gifts, but an important one, I think.

I teach my kids to always look the giver in the eye and say "thank you."
This seems like a no-brainer, but I continue to be amazed at the number of times people - even adults - don't extend this simplest courtesy.  I have probably prompted my kids a million times, "What do you say?" when they are given anything from an elaborate gift to a drink of water, but I'm happy to say that it's finally starting to stick and I have to prompt them less and less often now.  A simple "thank you" really does go a long, long way.

I tell my kids to pick one nice thing they notice about a gift and to comment on it.
If Aunt Margaret hands them a horrid lumpy sweater, they can comment on how warm it looks.  If Uncle Jim-Bob gives them a well used shirt six sizes too large, they can talk about how blue is their favorite color.  What I try to teach my kids is that if someone takes the time to choose something for them, then that means care and time and effort went into it.  I don't want my kids to lie.  I absolutely don't want them to gush about how much they love something if they really don't.  But... there are positive qualities to everything, and it's a good life skill to be able to see those things and call them out.

I teach them not to comment about negative things.
This is another one that might seem like a no-brainer, but when you're dealing with ridiculously outspoken and honest kids like mine, it's worth talking to them about it (repeatedly).  If they hate it, if it won't fit, if they already have it... these are things the gift giver doesn't necessarily need to know.  Now it's a totally different story if the giver asks specifically "Do you have that already?" or some such, but what I try to convey to them is if you can't say something nice, don't say anything at all.

I'm trying - every day - every single day - to teach them there is more to any holiday than receiving mountains of stuff.
My kids have so much - TOO much - and they will get mountains more.  But when I talk to them about holidays, I stress the other parts - getting together with family, giving to people less fortunate than us, enjoying time together doing fun things.  Christmas is about so much more than THINGS, and I don't want that to get overlooked in the mad rush that Christmas has become.

Good manners are important to me, and being able to graciously receive gifts from others is becoming a lost art form.  I cringe a little when I see people - children and adults - who are unable to utter even a simple "thank you" when they are given something.   I want to ensure my boys grow up knowing that these little niceties are not just important, they are necessary.  I have prompted them a million times to say "thank you" and I'm sure that before they are adults I will do it a million more, but the more they say it, the more it become a habit, and that's just the kind of habit that I want to help them build.

What do you do to help your kids receive gifts graciously? 

A girl and her Pony - a love story (reprisal).

A memorable gift.

I wrote this post over two years ago, but it remains to date the most memorable gift I have ever been on either the giving or the receiving end of.  I thought about retelling the story, but I don't think I could do it the same justice now as I did when I was still in shock from receiving it.  If you're a long time reader of my blog, feel free to move on along since I'm sure you've heard this story a couple dozen times, but otherwise, read on to find about the most amazing gift I have ever received.

Once upon a time there was a Girl:

And that Girl loved a car:

The Girl loved the car when she was 8 years old.

She loved it when she was 10 years old.

When she was 12 years old, the Girl asked for the car for her birthday.

Instead, she got $20, a homemade cake, and a sleepover with 3 of her closest friend.

When she was 16, the Girl asked for the car again for her birthday.

Instead, she go this:

And the Girl was happy.

And the Girl loved that car, too, and drove it and drove it and drove it for thousands and thousands of miles, until one day, on a road that was slippery with rain, the Girl and the car flipped over and over and the car was no more.

But that was ok, mostly, because the Girl walked away unhurt from something that could have and probably should have killed her.

She always thought the car saved her that day.

Later, the Girl got a truck (she was a country girl, after all), and went away to college, where she met a Boy.

The Boy and the Girl fell in love and got married, and even though the Boy didn't share the Girl's love for her special car, he knew all about it.  Probably because the Girl talked about it all the time.

After the Girl and the Boy were established in their chosen professions, married, young, and somewhat stupid, the Boy got the Girl this:

And the Girl was happy.

And the Girl drove it and drove it and drove it until the Boy and the Girl had a baby, and then another, and the car was not practical for a family.  And the Girl was ALWAYS practical.

So the Girl sold the car, and she was sad, but she was busy with other things, like raising the babies and writing and cooking and cleaning and laughing and living.

Sometimes the Boy and the Girl would play the "What If" game, and the Boy always asked the Girl the same question:

"What if you could have any car you wanted?  What would it be?"

And the Girl would always answer, 

"Why this one:

of course."

And then the Girl and the Boy would laugh and smile and dream and go on with their lives.

Until one day, when the Girl was in the middle of raising the babies and writing and cooking and cleaning and laughing and living, she opened an envelope that came in the mail, and saw that the Boy had done something.

She sent him a text.

"Ummm... did you buy a car?"

The Boy answered:

"Why would you ask something like that?"

Which clearly wasn't a "NO" and meant only one thing.

And the Girl, the Girl who always wanted to control everything and know everything, didn't ask "How much?" or  "Can we afford it?" or "Is it practical?" or "How much will insurance cost?" or any of the million and two other PRACTICAL questions in her head.  Instead, she asked the Boy:

"Why?"

And the Boy answered:

"Because you deserve it and I wanted you to have it."

 And the Girl, the Girl who clips coupons and shops at yard sales and dyes her own hair and scrimps and saves and is altogether cheap and PRACTICAL, said:

"It's beautiful."

and

"I love it."

and 

"Thank you."

And the Girl was happy.

Very, very happy.

Christmas tree bling.

A favorite Christmas ornament.

So I finally got over myself enough to get my house decorated for Christmas, and I'll have to grudgingly admit, it made me feel slightly better to have the tree up even though my kids totally threw me over in the middle of our festive family decorating event to go outside and play with their friends.

"Maybe we can help you later, Mama?" Zachary said hopefully, all the while stealing glances out the window where his buddies were waiting so they could go play a good clean game of Zombie Apocalypse.

Fine, kids.  Leave your poor old Mama to have a festive holiday party - of one.  I cranked up some Willie Nelson, poured myself a glass (ok, it was a bottle) of wine, and got some shit DONE while they were outside though.

It really was kind of fun, though, doing it by myself.  

I got to spend some quality time with all the different ornaments.  It was nice.

For the first year ever, every single ornament on out tree is unique.  Some were crafted by me, some were crafted by the kids, some we gifted to each other.  I can't remember when we started doing it exactly, but every year for the last several years we have all "surprised" each other with a new ornament that means something to the recipient.  The whole family really tends toward geeky, so there are quite a few superhero themed ornaments that grace our tree, and I love it.

I see pictures of other people's trees on Facebook and Instagram and the like, and I love the look of all the gorgeous, matchy-matchy, color themed trees I see, but it's just not meant to be in my house. 

My family isn't shiny and symmetrical and matchy, and our tree isn't either.

It's what works for us.

It would be a disservice to some of our other ornaments to pick ONE favorite, so here are a few (dozen) of my absolute favorites.

1. Zachary's special ornament from this year to celebrate (denounce?) his Minecraft addiction.

2. Cute little elf handmade by Cooper, 2013.

3. Homemade Angry bird ornament, circa 2011.  There's a matching pig somewhere.

4. Cooper's Mickey in Space Hallmark ornament. 2009 I think.  Robert buys the Hallmark ones because I'm too cheap.  

5. My ornament gift from Robert this year.  It's an Elvis record player that plays (nearly) full versions of That's Alright Mama and Santa Baby.  I love it.

6. Robert's Green Lantern ornament from 2011.  It recites the "In brightest day" speech.

7. One of our oldest ornaments from 1990something.  It's the USS Enterprise, and it plays the Star Trek theme song.  I TOLD you we are geeks.

8. Some sort of homemade blob that Zachary made for me in kindergarten.  It smells like cinnamon and is covered it glitter, and if I had to pick ONE favorite, this one would probably be it because my kid made it for me.

9. Cooper's special ornament for this year - Woody from Toy Story.

10. Cooper's Mickey Mouse ornament from 2010.  It makes cute clock sounds.  We have a very noisy tree, by the way.

11. The companion Buzz Lightyear for Cooper's Woody (#9).  I couldn't pick just one.  They're BEST FRIENDS.

12. Robert's steampunk snowflake from 2012.  I really love this one. 

13. Captain America - crafted by me last year.  I made an entire set of 12 different superheroes last year, and I think they will all grace our tree for many years to come.

14 & 15. Handprint snowman.  Zachary's is red, Cooper's is blue.  I covered their hands with paint and had them grasp the ornament, then we added felt hats and scarves.  So cute - so easy.

16. Santa photo ornament - we have several of these from different years.  They're ceramic and kind of expensive, but it seems like a really good way to commemorate visiting with Santa each year.

17. Star Trek's USS Defiant.  This one LIGHTS UP!!  So geeky, we are.

18. Zachary's Batmobile that - you guessed it - plays the original Batman theme.

19. Robert got me this Catwoman a few years ago when Zach was so into playing pretend and I ALWAYS had to be Catwoman.  Meow.

20. The "Hello My Baby" frog.  I know he has another name but that's what I always call him.  This is one of our oldest ornaments, too, from sometime in the 90s.  Robert got him for me.

21. Zachary got me this for Christmas last year at the little shop set up at his school. I may have cried just a little when I opened it.

22. Robin ornament from the superhero set I made (#13).

23. Mickey Mouse I made for Cooper last year.  What can I say?  The boy has always loved his mouse.

24. Thumbprint reindeer ornament - this one is Zack's, but Cooper has one too.  We made these last year and I think they are super cute.

25. This is the pinnacle of my ornament crafting right here.  I made this Pikachu for Zachary last year, and it is my favorite thing I've made for anyone ever.

What is your favorite Christmas ornament?  Does your tree have to match, or is it a big mess like mine is? 

Ghosts of Christmas Past and Present.

Today I'm linking up to Angie at The Jammie Girl to share my Christmas memories. 

My first Christmas, and one of the few from 

my earliest years that was recorded for posterity.  

For me, Christmas has always passed in a blur.

My memories of Christmas as a child revolve much more around the anticipation than around the gift opening.

Anticipation always, always trumps reality.

Christmas in my house wasn't a huge deal.  We had a tree.  We had gifts.  We ate well.  There was candy and those mixed nuts that you have to crack yourself and plenty of peppermints and candy oranges, and it was all good and fine, but there weren't big productions about anything.  It just happened.

I'm not sure if my favorite part is that my shirt is on backward or that my underwear shows.  This is THE only "Christmas morning opening gifts" photo that exists from my childhood.  Apparently we didn't have a camera.  

There's not one particular Christmas that stands out from any of the others.  We had plenty - PLENTY - although looking back on that even now I have absolutely no concept of what my parents had to sacrifice to make that happen.  I guess that's the way it should be, but it hurts my heart just a little and tinges my memories with a bittersweet taste that I just can't seem to shake.

Me, my sister and my nephew (who looks so much like Zachary here it's scary!) on  a Christmas morning in the days of big hair and bad sweaters. 

By the time I was in high school and knew the truth about the magic and all that, my Mama stopped even putting up a tree.  We still did presents and a big meal, but the days and weeks leading up to Christmas seemed just like the rest of the year.  I always gave her a hard time about not putting a tree up, but secretly I agreed that it seemed like a lot of mess and fuss for JUST ONE DAY of celebration.

I have no idea what I just unwrapped but it seems to have amused me. 

The year I turned 20, I worked my first retail Christmas. 

For those of you who have never had the pleasure, let me explain a little bit about what that's like.

Stock that will see you through the mad rush of Christmas usually starts arriving around August or September.  Every retail back room I have ever been in is roughly the size of, oh, say a bedroom, which means that the stock has to go somewhere and in the case of a bookstore like the one I worked at, the only place for it to go is on the sales floor.  Trust me when I tell you that putting out Christmas themed titles and holiday themed displays in October is not "rushing the season," it's just that simply there is no where else for this stuff to go.  

My in-laws usually gift us with liquor of some sort.  It's my favorite gift ever. 

There is a huge amount of physical and mental prep work that goes into a retail holiday season.  Hiring and training temps, dealing with the massive shipments every day, trying to keep staff morale high... it takes a toll.  What that meant for me was that I was exhausted every year by Thanksgiving time, and unlike most jobs that encourage people to take time off from work around the holidays, retail managers work more than normal.  A typical scenario would be that I had six days total off from work between Thanksgiving and Christmas, and I worked until 7pm Christmas Eve and was back ant work by 4 or 5 am on the day after Christmas.

That left roughly 34 hours for me to celebrate with my family, R's family, and later, after I had a family of my own, with my own kids.

I look so tired here. It's almost painful to look at. 

It was all a blur.  No one year stands out to me at all.  I remember hoards of people, sitting in traffic, shopping and wrapping late into the night, driving to visit family, driving more to get home, and being bone weary.  I never decorated.  I didn't bake cookies or sing carols or anything like that.  I never even had a tree.

I remember praying and hoping for the second week on January to come, so I could have a couple days off in a row.

Then I had kids.

OMG he was so LITTLE!!! The cuteness kills me.

And even though I was still working and still exhausted (even more than normal -  see: kids) I tried.  I put up a tree, I took the boys to see Santa, we baked cookies and gave to others and made a ridiculous amount of holiday crafts and I tried to make it festive and fun.

I've never felt like I have gotten Christmas right, though.

It's all too much or all not enough, and it always leaves me feeling... inadequate, somehow.

Maybe it's because it wasn't a huge deal in my house when I was a kid.  Maybe I got so numb to it during all my years in retail.  Maybe I'm just not a festive holiday kind of gal.

My memories of Christmas are all a blur.

There have been good times and bad, and a whole lot in between.

There have been gifts given, meals shared, and and memories, for better or worse, have been made.

And since all those memories add up to make a life - MY life -  as imperfect as it is, I'll take it.

I've lost interest in Christmas.

I used to be a bookstore manager, which means that I worked way too much through the holidays.  

When that was the case, I had absolutely no time, energy, or patience for elaborate Christmas festivities.

Until the kids were born, I never even put up a Christmas tree. 

It's ok, you can judge me if you want.  That sounds bad even to me, and I was the one living it.

The first Christmas season after I quit working,  I went sort of insane and I frantically made all the cookies in the world and more candy than 12 sane families could consume and wore myself out with preparations and cooking and over the top decorations and basically when it was all over I felt pretty much the same way I did when I was working.

Then last year - finally -  I felt good about it all.  I thought I had found the ever elusive "balance" between celebrating and relaxing, between stuff and people, between giving and getting.  It felt good. 

Last year, I made a lot of my Christmas gifts (including two quilts!!!), I baked, I decorated, I even made some really awesome ornaments with and for the boys, but I also felt relaxed and happy and for the most part, I thought I finally had a handle on how this Christmas business was supposed to work. 

And then this year, I just can't.

I don't really care.

However terrible that sounds, it's how I feel right now.

I've done some shopping, but all the boxes are stacked in my guest room, unopened.

I haven't crafted or sewn a single gift.

My tree isn't up.  My house isn't decorated.  I haven't baked anything.  Our stupid elf has not yet made an appearance even the boys keep asking when he will arrive, and the advent calendar I was so excited about last year is still somewhere in storage with all the other Christmas decorations.

(Update: since writing this a few days ago, I have managed to get a few decorations and my tree up, but I was so grouchy about it the kids opted to go play with friends instead of helping me like they normally do.  I'm going to call that a fail.) 

I haven't posted a single recipe or tutorial or gift guide or fabulous Christmas sentiment on my blog, and I have no plans to.

I just feel sort of blah about it all.

Occasionally through my life, I've had periods when I've felt this kind of apathy toward everything.  I always call it The Ennui, and it comes and goes, usually not lasting longer that a day or occasionally a week.  This time though, I just can't shake it.

It's never come at Christmas time before.  It's a lot easier to hide it in, say, June.

So it's Christmas time and I don't want to Christmas.

I've tried to fake it for the boys, but it's been really, really hard.

I've got no spirit, no joy, no holly jolly.

But Christmas is coming, no matter how I feel about it.

What do you do when you've lost the Christmas spirit?

Aprons.

I've always been sort of obsessed with aprons.

My favorite time period has always been the fifties and sixties and I sometimes think I should have been alive then, just so I could wear an apron every day and meet my hardworking husband at the door with a cold martini and his slippers.

Or maybe not.

Anyway, aprons have always appealed to me, and I have quite a cute little collection myself.   Also, the number of apron links on my Stuff to Make and Do board on Pinterest is out of control.  But they're all SO SO SO cute!!!!

Before Christmas, I decided that aprons would be on the gift list for several people this year.  I had never made an apron before, but it didn't look that hard.

And guess what?

It wasn't.

I didn't really use a pattern, I just cut until things looked right and embellished until I felt like I should stop.

First up was this cute little number I made for my niece.

Next was this boy-appropriate one.  Clearly this is an old pair of jeans.  Since it was for a boy about Cooper's age, I didn't really measure anything, I just used Cooper as a live model and cut and trimmed and nipped and tucked until I was happy with the outcome.  I think it's pretty cute.

I also made a couple other aprons as gifts.  You can't really tell it from the picture, but the one on the left was teeny-tiny since it was for a 9 month old.  SO FLIPPIN' CUTE!

So now that the mad Christmas crafting rush is over, I've decided it's time to make myself a new apron to add to my collection.  I've picked out the fabric:

It's so funky and retro-ish, don't you think?  Now all I need is a couple hours to steal away to my sewing room and it will become an apron.  I can't wait to work on it.

How about you?  Do you have any crafty projects in the works right now?

Easy Prep Ahead Monkey Bread

I'm a poet and didn't know it.  Huh huh.

We now return to your regularly scheduled blog post.

In the weeks leading up to Christmas, I saw a blue million posts on Pinterest about Christmas morning monkey bread.

I read through them all and decided that I would do it my way.

See, the recipes I saw all used canned biscuits or frozen biscuits or some other plain-ish bread dough.

And while that sounds great, delicious even, I thought I could quite possibly kick the sugar factor (and deliciousness) up a few notches.

So I made it on Christmas.  And I made it again the next week.  And I've made it about a dozen times since then.  While it is doing absolutely nothing for the size of my a$$, it is probable one of the best things I have ever eaten.

It's totally worth all the miles I've run in order to try to burn it off.

Totally.

[Printable Recipe]

WHAT YOU NEED:

 2 tubes refrigerated cinnamon rolls with icing, like Pillsbury
1 cup of nuts, chopped (I've used both walnuts and pecans and they were both delicious.  Almonds would be good too.)
1 stick of butter
1 cup of brown sugar
a splash of water (maybe 1/8 cup or so)
1/2 tsp. cinnamon
cooking spray


WHAT YOU DO:
Spray the heck out of your bundt panwith cooking spray.  Then spray it again.

Evenly distribute the nuts in the bottom of the pan.

Meanwhile, in a small saucepan on the stove, melt the butter, then add in the brown sugar, cinnamon and water and bring it to a boil.  Allow it to boil for 3-4 minutes over medium heat, stirring constantly.

After you remove your sugar/butter mixture from the heat, open your two tubes of cinnamon rolls and set the icing aside for later.  Cut each roll in quarters, then pull apart the pieces and spread them evenly around the pan.

Next, pour your butter/sugar mixture evenly over the top.

This is the really cool "prep ahead" part. At this point, you can either proceed with the recipe and bake it right away, or you can cover your pan with plastic wrap and refrigerate it overnight (or up to 2 days - maybe longer, but that's as far as my knowledge has taken me).

Bake in a preheated 350 degree oven for 35-40 minutes, then allow to cool for 10 minutes. After cooling, invert your pan over your serving plate, then top with the icing reserved from your cinnamon rolls.

Did I mention that this stuff is ridiculously good? And addictive? And NOT on my diet plan? And totally worth it?

A beginner's guide to crafting with resin

I always have the hardest time shopping for gifts for R.  He is definitely one of those people who just buys himself whatever he needs, whatever he wants, and whatever catches his eye.  It doesn't usually leave much left for me to buy him for Christmas or his birthday or whatever.

It's damn annoying is what it is.

But still I try.  Oh lord, do I try.

So this year I decided I would make him something.  That pretty much ensured that a) he wouldn't have it already and b) he wouldn't have it already.

I did some quick Pinterest research, and I decided that I would make him a coaster for his desk.  But not any old coaster would do... oh  no.  I would make him a STEAMPUNK COASTER!  WITH RESIN!  Never mind that I had zero clue about how to use resin.

So I began assembling the needed supplies.  I ordered a coaster mold, along with handful of little gears, owls, hot air balloons, keys and other steampunkish looking things from eBay, then I went to my local craft store for some resin supplies.  And I got a HUGE case of sticker shock.  Good grief.  Resin is NOT cheap, but I already had the other supplies on the way, so I felt like I was committed to my project at this point.

I'm THRILLED with how the finished product turned out, and R loved it.  I'm not entirely sure he believed me when I told him I made it myself, though.  Oh, but I did.

And here are some of the things I learned:

1. It's probably cheaper to just buy something already made than to buy all the parts.  Even a small bottle of resin and hardener will set you back around $30, so unless you have several small or a pretty large project planned, make sure that the coaster you could buy on Etsy for $6 shipped is worth the $40 in supplies, just to say you made it yourself.  BAM! I  just saved you $34 and countless hours.  But if you're determined to proceed...

2.  Read ALL the directions that come with your resin before you start.  Then read them again.  Then follow them.

3.  Measuring the hardener really IS important.  This isn't a recipe where you can say, "Oh, that's pretty close.  Good enough."

4.  If you mix it in a plastic Solo cup, it will melt a hole in the bottom of the cup.  See number 2.

5.  If you then quickly grab one of your favorite Pyrex bowls to pour it into, it will ruin your bowl.  See number 2.

6.  If you mix it in your kitchen, you will have to open all the windows and leave your house for a couple hours, even though it is 23 degrees outside.  That "well-ventilated area" part?   Totally true.  See  number 2.

7.  If your put it outside because of the fumes and if it's 23 degrees outside, it will not harden.  See number 2.

8.  If you then bring it back into your house to warm up and harden, you will have to open all your windows again.  See number 2.  And number 6.

9.  If you get it on your skin, it will burn off your fingerprints.  (Note to self: Remember this in case you ever need to "disappear" someone permanently.)

10.  The look on R's face when he finally believed that I made something so cool with my own two hands just for him made everything else worth it.  Well, mostly, anyway.

From us to you...

Super easy last minute stocking stuffers

First things first - Happy Christmas Eve!  

If you've found yourself here as a result of some sort of frantic search for stocking stuffers that you can whip up on the fly, look no further - I've got you covered.

This couldn't be easier, and I'd be willing to bet you have everything you need lurking around your house somewhere.

What you need:

Any denomination of rolled coins - these are dollar coin rolls, but any kind would work just fine

wrapping paper, tape, ribbon and clear cellophane (true confession time:  I didn't have any cellophane handy, so I ripped the outer packaging off a shirt I had yet to wrap for R and there ya go - clear cellophane.  I'd be willing to bet it's all over your house and you don't really need much).

What you do:

Cut a piece of wrapping paper to the width of your coin roll, wrap around and tape into place.  Cut a piece of cellophane that is a couple inches longer than the roll.  Wrap it around and tape into place, then secure the ends with ribbon.  Give the ribbon a quick curl and you're done.

Now that that's all done, go enjoy the rest of your Christmas Eve!