HO-memade HO-liday. HUM-bug.

Okay. Here's how this works. I show you a picture of the hand-made gift I created for each of my children, and then you say, "Wow! That's beautiful! It's amazing! You made that? Your kids will love it! That will be a treasure they keep forever, and they will feel your love every time they look at it! Natalie, how wonderful of you to try doing a homemade Christmas this year, instead of just giving the kids more toys to treat like garbage in the basement."

It doesn't have to be those exact words, but you get the idea. Just say something that expresses the awe and wonder you would feel if your mother spent many back-breaking, yawning, late-night hours working secretly on a special gift just for you.

Here it comes. This is the one made for Nathan. His favorite color is blue.

That was your cue. "Wow! It's amazing, it's beautiful...etc."

And next we have the Daniel quilt. He loves holidays and seasons, so the blocks represent those.

CHORUS

And, lastly, the crown jewel of my efforts, Stephanie's pink quilt, which I made in less than 3 days. And I'm not a quilter, people. It's really sewn together with love (and I hope it holds up, HA!).

I felt a need to show the back of this one also because the fabric is just beautiful. SO beautiful, in fact, that THAT is really what makes the quilt and the real reason I could do it in 3 days--no matter what pattern I chose, it would have been lovely because of this unique fabric.

So, way back in July, I told the kids (or warned the kids) that they would not be getting a lot of toys for Christmas because we were going to do more homemade things instead. Who needs MORE toys? We have 3 bedrooms and a basement full of them. And they're not interested in parting with any of them. So I said they would receive homemade items and things they need, and a FEW things that were just for fun. Well, I forgot about grandparents and friends giving them things, so they still got plenty of gifts to play with. But my hope was that they would truly be wow-ed by these quilts and immediately begin loving them forever.

Now I'm not picking on my kids. They're great kids and they were thankful for all their gifts. They DO seem to like them very much, but these quilts are already being used for tug-of-war, for fort-building, for putting over the head and walking around like a ghost, etc. In short, they are just another blanket. HO-HO-HUM. But maybe, when they go off to college, this will be the one thing they insist on taking with them, right?  Maybe.

Gingerbread Prison

There are a lot of interesting things about 12-year old boys. I'm keeping a list, and this is the most recent.

It all started with my clever little plan of turning a 1-gingerbread house recipe into a 3-gingerbread house recipe so that each child would have their own house to decorate. I foolishly skipped the important step of creating a triangular shape on the tops of the walls to support the roof and ended up making an executive decision that this year's houses would be Adobe gingerbread houses. Flat roof. I was worried the kids would be disappointed, but they really took it in stride and got right to work. Nathan asked for the pretzel sticks immediately and set them as bars in the windows, announcing that his house was going to be a gingerbread prison. So sweet. "How does Santa get in to bring the inmates their gifts?"

"They don't get gifts. They have to stay back from the windows so they don't get shot. And there's barbed wire all around, so if they try to escape, they'll get cut up."

Fa-la-la-la-la....la-la-la-la.

After a while, we stopped asking questions about the prison because there was just no way to bring it back around to the happy topic of Christmas. He had a blast decorating and was very proud of his creation. So we chose to find it memorable and humorous. And it really is.

Here's Daniel's. His gingergread man is wearing mittens so he won't get too cold going out to get the firewood:

 And here's Stephanie's. About 20 minutes later, it was bare adobe again.

 Here they are creating their masterpieces:

And here's Nathan, meticulously setting the security measures in place in his holiday house of pain and suffering:

You just can't predict these moments.

Counterfeit Goodies: We're rolling in dough

Our generous neighbors and friends have been carrying out the thoughtful holiday tradition of delivering plates, bags, and tins of scrumptious goodies to wish us a Merry Christmas. These have been much appreciated and devoured almost instantaneously. But now I'm feeling just a smidgen of guilt. No, not over fat and calories. That will come later.

A few years ago, a neighbor brought us a cute little bucket with a lid and handle, filled with frozen balls of cookie dough, ready to place on the cookie sheet and throw in the oven. She said, "Everyone gets too many treats all at once during the holidays. This way, when all the goodies are gone and you actually want some again, you can pull this out of the freezer and just pop them in the oven."

Brilliant! I loved it! Not only did I love the cookies and having them when I wanted them, but I loved the ease of it for the giver. She didn't have to bake them, cool them, arrange them on the plate, etc. No. Just hand them over and let the other person do all that. Like I said--brilliant!

This year, we took it to a higher level. Well, really a lower level. We didn't even make the little balls. We just rolled up the cookie dough in wax paper, put it in a freezer bag, and wrapped it in tissue paper. Voila! Here are your goodies. All I did was make and roll the dough. For 24 hours, it felt like I was in a Pillsbury Bake-off, but then it was done. No cookie sheets and cooling racks to clean. No festive plates or containers required. But now that the deed is done, I feel a little bit sheepish. "Hi. We wanted to wish you a Merry Christmas, but we didn't really want to do anything for you, so YOU can do the baking. Have a happy holiday!" Kind of lame. Sort of a cop-out. Somewhat Scrooge-ish. Yet...brilliant!

Should I feel guilty?

The Disease

It's my mother's fault. Of course.

My mom creates Christmas tree masterpieces. Each tree has a theme and looks like a picture from a classy magazine. She adds the perfect number of lights and spaces the ornaments just so. They're works of art. The downside? No one else is allowed to help in any way, shape, or form. There is a no-touch zone extending 3 feet out from the tree in all directions.

Sorry, Mom. I'm going public...
When we were children, she would pretend to let us decorate the tree. We'd get out all the ornaments and choose our favorites and carefully place them exactly where we liked them. (Colored lights, tinsel, and anything else remotely gaudy were strictly taboo.) THEN, she would send us over to Grandma's house to decorate Grandma's tree. While we were gone, she would rearrange all our ornaments and put the ugly ones near the back. (Meanwhile, at Grandma's, we could put tinsel and as many ugly ornaments as we wanted, all on the same branch, and they would be left there for the whole Christmas season.)

I remember being mildly offended by my mom's re-decorating practices, but as an adult, I have discovered that this condition is hereditary. My sister and I call it "mom's disease". As grown-ups, we both were surprised to find ourselves coming up with tree themes nearly a year in advance. We would take down the Christmas tree and already be thinking, "Next year, I'm going to do a snow theme on the tree." Then we'd head off to the after-Christmas sales and purchase the needed items for that theme. I know, it's pathetic.

The thing is, my mom was right. I am much happier with the tree when it's decorated "properly". My way of solving this is to have two trees. The one in the top photo is mine. Hard to tell in the picture, but this year's tree is decorated in sort of an "old-fashioned fruits of the season" theme. It has cranberries, candied fruits, candle-lights and gold and cranberry ball ornaments. Below is the kids' tree. They can choose white or colored lights. And they can put whatever they want on it. Almost. It turns out I hate tinsel as much as my mom does. I will admit to a bit of adjustment in ornament positions, but not much because the spacing was already pretty good. So, they are being trained well. They will most likely not be immune to the disease.
Sadly, I think I have offended my children as well when it comes to Christmas trees. Nathan begs every year to put one or more of his own ornaments on "the good tree" (you know, the one in the living room that everyone sees, MY tree). I consented this year to having him hang his fish ornament on my tree. But only because it's dark brown and blends in. I might have to adjust it later, though.