Crash.

It was bound to happen. We had been headed that way for weeks. Living life very, very, very close to the edge. Too many holiday activities, too many errands crammed in, and way, way, way too much sugar. It was getting ugly. The threat of Jingle, our elf, reporting bad behavior to Santa Claus had become meaningless. Overtired monsters were lurking in every corner. Bickering was constant and relentless. The kids were on edge. I was on edge. Someone was going to crack and I was beginning to fear it would be me.

But today, oh today was such a good day. No one came and whisked my children to the movies. No one delivered cookies to me. And there was no babysitter scheduled for date night. What I got instead was a fabulous surprise- two children sleeping this afternoon for close to three hours- at the same time. At first I did laundry, and puttered about, thinking the respite would be brief. As the minutes ticked by, it became apparent- the kids were down for the count. So I did a very crazy thing; I sat. I made a cup of Trader Joe's raspberry tea (highly recommend it, by the way. it has a very strong raspberry flavor without being bitter), hid in my favorite couch with a stack of loooong delayed Chrismas cards, turned on Amy Grant Christmas music, and lost myself in the joy of Christmas cards. Not just stuffing pre-printed photos into envelopes (although I have done that many a time and hold no ill thoughts for those who do), but actually writing personal messages. They weren't profound, they weren't even lengthy, but I had turned Christmas cards from a chore into a pleasant afternoon to be savored and enjoyed. Two hours later, my six year old stumbled out of her room and snuggled up to me on the couch. I was ready to set aside the cards, but I think Caitlin felt the joy too; she curled up next to me and drifted back to sleep for another hour.

We paid for this guilty pleasure this evening; the fine art of bedtime stalling was elevated to new levels in our house this evening. But was it worth it? Oh, absolutely. Yes, today was such a good day.

Did Martha Have a Gun?

Twenty pair of red and green suspenders in less than 12 hours. Ah yes, the joys of Christmastime holiday shows in kindergarten. As I sat there with my trusty glue gun, a stack of red and green felt, a 3 year old helper, and 6 year old helper, I wondered how I had gotten myself into this mess. What on earth had possessed me to volunteer to make the suspenders for the entire class? Was it a need to feel like I had accomplished something? Was it a need to fulfill my creative inner Martha Stewart longings? If so, I was a miserable failure. Martha would not have approved of these suspenders. The widths were all different. Safety pins would be securing them to the kindergarten elves; no discreet hook and eye attachments for us. There were no cute button finishes. No hand embroidery or glitter. Hmmm...maybe there was a reason why Martha never had 3 and 6 year old helpers on her show?

And all of this led to me wonder...did they let Martha Stewart bring her glue gun into jail? Did she get to sacrifice her prison issue sheets in order to make a ruffled skirt to go around the sink in her jail cell? I bet she could have made some fantastic wind chimes out of license plates and thread unravelled from the bottom of her prison uniform. Or maybe she was deprived during her incarceration and that was her true punishment. For me, it was the opposite; using a glue gun seemed like retribution for evil things I must have done in a former life. I sure hope Martha enjoyed her first trip to a craft store after she got out of the slammer. For me, I think I'll go back to running half marathons to feel successful. h

Houston, We Have a Problem...

It all started off well enough. Thirty kindergartners had volunteered to stay after school for a community project called "Roots and Shoots". The idea behind the program is simple; teach young children how to change the world through community involvement. Lucky me, I was in charge of community events for all eight kindergarten classes. Life lesson # 216: when your next door neighbor asks if you want to "help" with a community project, ask more questions before saying "yes"! Our project to help the Atlanta Humane Society by collecting old towels (to be used for dog washing, etc.) and cardboard tubes (for teething puppies and cat toys) was also going well. And now it was our actual meeting, with a speaker from the Humane Society scheduled to speak briefly, and bring some of the animals available for adoption. Imagine the scene...with the help of a few brave parents, we had herded the children into the cafeteria. It is immediately after school and the children are ready to let off energy. We're able to coax them into sitting at the cafeteria tables, but they are ticking time bombs, ready to start bouncing off the walls at the slightest opportunity.

Our elementary has two campuses, that unfortunately are not next door to each other. It is a source of great confusion to visitors. My biggest fear was the speaker would go to the wrong campus and miss her 2:30 "appointment". I had gone to great lengths to prevent this problem. Step 1) schedule the speaker for an early arrival at 2:00 to eliminate delays due to traffic, etc. Step 2) e-mail the speaker the address of the campus our group was. Step 3) Call the speaker, repeat the address, have speaker repeat the address. My bases were covered. At 2:00 I posted a look-out at the front door of the school to watch for our speaker. At 2:15, all the children were in the cafeteria, but no speaker. I was a little concerned and began dialling my speaker's cell phone, no answer. I began playing the birthday game with the children, having them line up by month of their birthday and playing Simon Says, etc. You get the idea, we were stalling for time. At 2:30 I was very concerned and called again. And again. At 2:40, I finally got a message from the speaker "Hi Colleen, I'm in the cafeteria- where are you guys?" Yikes. Our speaker was clearly at the wrong campus. I popped into the school front office and asked the to call over to the other elementary campus to find my speaker. The conversation made my heart sink "Yes, you see a lady with the puppies? They're really cute? Oh, that's so sweet. Have the buses left yet? No, they haven't? Okay, thanks!" Houston, we have a problem. Once the buses begin loading, the parking lot is shut down; no cars may leave. This meant it would be AT LEAST another another thirty minutes before my speaker arrived...just in time for the end of my meeting. Okay, it was time for desperate measures. Back in the cafeteria I went and said "kids, it's time for a new game. You are all now puppies. Welcome to Miss Colleen's obedience school." After a few sessions of playing dead and rolling over, the kids were losing interest. It was getting ugly. Just before it all fell apart, we were saved by the arrival of our Humane Society speaker. With world record speed, we sat the children down, listened to a five minute spiel of what the Humane Society does, and handed out pads of paper & pens. And then it was over. Whew. Definitely a day to block out of my memory!

For more information about Roots and Shoots, go to http://www.rootsandshoots.org

When Sharing Is Not a Good Thing.

We spend an awful lot of time teaching our 3 1/2 year old, Ryan, to share. Come to think of it, we still spend a fair amount of time teaching our 6 year old, Caitlin to share as well. But over the Thanksgiving weekend, sharing backfired in my face. Thanksgiving Day I was feeling extremely joyous over surviving the Atlanta Half Marathon without my 37 year old body collapsing on me. At noon-time I was sitting with some of my running buddies soaking in the hot-tub and enjoying life. Little did I know, in 24 hours the whole weekend would be falling apart. Partly out of guilt (standard state of mind for me, even if I am a lapsed Catholic) and partly out of sympathy, we were hosting my Irish friend & her family (complete with grandparents in town from Dublin) for a dinner party Saturday night. How could I not? If the sheer fact that she had hosted my family at her Thanksgiving dinner, allowing me to lounge around post-race day in leisure, wasn't enough prompt a return invite, then the fact that her parents were camped out at her house for two entire weeks and were in dire need of activities was enough to clinch the deal. And if you are getting the giggles about now, then you are having the same thoughts as me; there was great irony in a Thanksgiving dinner being cooked by a born and bred Dublin, Ireland hostess. And she was making a turkey recipe from Everyday Italian to boot!

Little did I know, as I happily prepped for dinner, trouble was brewing and multiplying. I was focused. I was chopping. I was sauteing. I was pulling out all the stops with a Julia Child recipe for cannelloni. I handmade crepes, I simmered the red sauce, coddled the white sauce, and seasoned the filling. And oh yeah, I made a roasted banana cheesecake. With a quick kiss on Ryan's head, I watched my husband carry him off for his nap. Finally it was assembly time. As I carefully laid a cannelloni into the baking dish, I sensed a presence behind me. And a rather unpleasant smell. With great trepidation I slowly turned around to the vision of an unhappy little boy covered in puke. "Oh Lovey, let's go get you cleaned off." And off we headed to the bathroom for the detoxification process. I cringed as I passed Ryan's bedroom, it was clear he had efficiently contaminated every piece of bed linen, the walls, and siderails of his bed.

Luckily the stomach bag quickly passed, although the dinner party was obviously cancelled, leaving me sad. Not only had I gone to great lengths to cook a company worthy meal that would go to waste, I had ironed napkins for our guests as well. And you can believe me when I say that is an uncommon occurrence!

As children usually do, Ryan quickly bounced back and things returned back to normal. Unfortunately it soon became apparent something was multiplying in my own stomach. So much for teaching your children about the joys of sharing!