Wednesday, December 29, 2010

the little things

morning snow showers.
skipping the gym and telling myself, I deserve the day off.
a little note from a kindred spirit.
a good read.
a much needed nap.
inspiration--I can't wait to share!
explaining to the man I love my feelings of fragility...and him nodding with sincere, genuine understanding. 
glitter eyeliner.  it's the first time and there was never a better day to wear it!
baking gingerbread cookies with my four year old daughter in matching aprons...and glitter eyeliner.
a holiday candle and Christmas lights.
a hot cup a joe as the evening set in, and a writing date, tonight, with myself.



it's the littlest things that give care to the soul, and I'm feeling better already.

how did your day go?

image via google

hopeful Christmas blues


This year, Christmas came and went like a pit-stop for gas on a road trip.  Multiple times, I tried to fall into the spirit of things, but it felt as though my mind would retract each time I attempted to hone in on the season.  I was antsy and busy thinking of obligations and future meetings that must be had, worrying that my Etsy orders would make it in time for Christmas, and anticipating all that would resume again come Monday, while presenting Christmas to my family the best way I knew how, with cookie plates, Christmas Eve traditions, family time, and well, let's be honest, too many presents.  Too many, that it left me feeling like I had totally botched my attempt at balancing Santa and the true meaning of Christmas.  It was such a botch that I wonder if Santa will be landing his sleigh on our roof next year, or if he'll be accepting Christmas lists at all.  It sounds so dreadful, I know.

Truth be told, I've been feeling a bit blue since, and my mind is still reeling like a movie on repeat. I can't quite pin-point the offness that resides within, or how it managed to nestle itself in for more than a night's stay.  Sometimes during the day, like late yesterday afternoon on the way home from the grocery store, the glisten of lights on the houses reminded me of the season and the magic it usually brings.  When I returned home, I made it a point to turn the lights back on for these final days of the season and the year, and it helped.

Luckily, with this offness, I haven't felt hopeless, nor has it been pouring over the rest of the family.  Over the last few days, I've been struck with creative ideas that excite me plenty, and there is still promise in my work.  I've been attempting to write through it, to put words to the feelings so as to pull them back and place them in their blue box, for a different rainy day, but it hasn't yet been completely sorted.  It's as though my heart is still trying to recover the inspiration, the happiness, the struggle and the mystery of it all to be able to place it in the appropriate box--because it is all there, and is worth every ounce of feeling. 

Maybe I'm learning more than I realize, because as much as I try and divert from such times, I cling to them the same--expecting a rhyme or reason, the opportunity for growth, and ultimately a stronger moving forward.  Perfect segue into 2011, no?  Maybe it is because I am a planner, or that I'm a creative spirit struggling in a type-A body, that my heart resists the initial thought of such a transitional occurrence.  But when it must, it happens to me, and I sit there waiting for it to pass, for the transition to occur, and to find myself on the other side.  The hopeful thing about transition is that in hindsight, it usually always makes sense.

Today, I welcome the blues, the agitation that is stirring in my heart and ultimately the transition with open arms.  Doing so, has never hindered me before.

So you must not be frightened if a sadness rises up before you larger than any you have ever known, if a restiveness, like light and cloud shadow passes over your hands and over all that you do. You must think that something is happening with you, that life has not forgotten you, that it holds you in its hand; it will not let you fall.

Rainer Maria Rilke (1875 - 1926)

NOTE TO SELF: Now would be a good time to re-read "Letters to a Young Poet."

Wednesday, December 22, 2010

Free Downloadable Gift Tags

This morning I woke at 3:30am and could not fall back asleep 
so I got up and started wrapping presents!
It's now 5:30am and I am searching the web for some cute downloadable gift tags.

Here's a handful...

The paper bow via Creature Comfort










Here's a list and here's a huge list of other gift tags for you to scour.

Now, I shall go back to bed and see if I can get another hour or two
of sleep before the munchkins wake.

xx

Sunday, December 19, 2010

antler love

I'm sure I am not the only one who has watched
antlers become quite a trend recently. 
Well, I'm smitten.
Here are a few antler-inspired Etsy finds that I am loving.







 Personally, this little face, loving these antlers is my favorite.


Asher and I named him Buster the buck.

Have you settled into the season or are you still hustling about?
Today, I shipped off the last of my Christmas Etsy orders, and
I've made good headway in the gift department in the last two days!
I'm breathing a tad easier now.

P.S. Thanks for all your Etsy love and support.  It warms my heart!

Friday, December 17, 2010

santa, lists and reindeer food

Last year, our children were too young to care, notice or expect anything from Santa.
It was a good thing, since Husband and I still needed to get our barrings on the whole Santa thing.
Husband doesn't recall much of any Santa while a youngster, and says his family focused on the religious aspect of the holiday.  I, on the other hand, wrote lists, prayed lists, made cookies, listened for reindeer, stayed awake, snuck downstairs, and believed in Santa until somewhere near the forth or fifth grade.  We, too, focused on the religious aspect of the holiday, but Santa was very much the man of the holiday.  My heart ached a bit, realizing that Husband might not want to do any Santa with our kids, since I very much believed all those years, but as an adult, I want to pay credit where credit is due, and make sure the religious meaning is forefront amidst the rest.

Well, we didn't have to make any executive decisions on the Santa issue, because come November, Brooklynn proved she was very much aware of the holiday approaching, and talk of Santa became regular conversation.

First, she brought me a color sheet with a picture of Santa's cookie plate and milk, and explained "this is what we need to do this year."
Then there was talk of presents.  Lots and lots of presents, so I decided she had to write her official list, and Asher, too.

Brooklynn 4 1/2

Asher 2 1/2

As if we weren't already bound to Santa by the lists,
Brooklynn brought this home from school:


Did you know there was reindeer food?!  Husband and I didn't, either! 
Along with the sending of the lists and making cookies for Santa,
we will also be feeding the reindeer this year!

And we are having such a fun time.

Here's to the real meaning of Christmas and a little fun, too!

P.S. Did you hear about the sale?

Thursday, December 16, 2010

stuffing for your stocking


10% off any book mark thru friday night,
and your order will be shipped out Saturday, Dec. 18th.
Use the coupon code merryandbright at checkout.

click here to shop.

Enjoy your Thursday!

Wednesday, December 15, 2010

important words


source unknown

to you tonight,
cbm

Tuesday, December 14, 2010

the best clearance I ever did shop...and purchase

A year and a half ago, Husband and I splurged on a lovely bed quilt from Anthropologie.  Because the quilt itself was a splurge, we didn't buy the rest of the set, and made do with the euro shams that I already had from another quilt set that matched pretty darn good. 

But when the heavens open, and you find the rest of your bedding set half-off at Anthro a year and a half later, there is no question in the matter. 

Now, may I present to you the Alhambra bedding set in its entirety...
and 50% of what will be wrapped under my tree...




"Spend 1001 nights warmed by fiery medallions amidst lush foliage. Decorative stitching accents and patchwork-striped shams are trimmed with tall tales and perfect patterns."

Ahhh. 
Some things are worth waiting for,
in the name of a good deal--
especially when it is this lovely.

Merry Christmas to me!

P.S. A handful of the beautiful clothbound penguin classics are on sale!

What are you hoping for this Christmas?

Monday, December 13, 2010

loves from the weekend.

the salvation army bell ringer singing jubilant Christmas carols.

the four year old Holiday Tea Party that Brooklynn enjoyed on Saturday
(it was so cute watching them steep their tea).
Asher went with a big boy friend to watch the motorcycle races, and loved every minute of it.

the kids' Christmas lists.  I hope to share soon...

my chiropractic brother's selflessness when he arrived at my door
to adjust my out-of-place-ribs-ajar back.  How kind is that?!
I was more than grateful and sent him out the door with some fudge.

did I say fudge?  Yes, I did!  And it is the most delicious Rocky Road Fudge.  Go here for the recipe.

a Sunday message on Hope and how it transforms the heart.


and currently, hearing my children sing Christmas carols, with four and two year old perfection.

receiving the recipe for ginger pancakes!  sounds good, eh?

finally, this tree from Pistols and Cupcakes
{and yes, this blogger is just as sassy as her blog title implies!}

Love it. 

Have a merry Monday!

Saturday, December 11, 2010

Rocky Road Fudge

It's simple, delicious, and will have anyone you make it for asking for more-- 
like my four year old in bed last night.

Because I can't make it for you, here it is.

Rocky Road Fudge
1 pkg. butterscotch chips
1 pkg. chocolate chips
1 C. creamy peanut butter
10 oz. small marshmallows ( a little less than a full bag)
2 C. salted peanuts

1. Melt chips together on low, then mix in peanut butter and peanuts.
2. Remove from stove and gently stir in marshmallows.
3. Pour into a 9x13 pan and put into the fridge for 1-2 hours until hard.
Remove from fridge to cut and place back in fridge.

Note 1.  This can be halved very easy and used with a 9x9 pan instead.
Note 2.  After you cut the fudge, and if you choose to put it on a serving plate, turn the pieces various rotations to show how pretty it looks from all sides.
Note 3. Enjoy!

Now go on and spread the goodness.

Monday, December 6, 2010

a festive felt garland

In years past, I felt my tree was missing a layer.  It's needed more love, more texture, and a better garland.  I just knew when I saw this idea in Do it Yourself magazine, that I had found my Christmas tree's perfect match.  Unfortunately, the magazine vanished and has not been seen in weeks.  Very depressing.  However, I did find this sweet little blog's diy circle garland post, and found the circle template to be very helpful. 

I used two sheets of each five colors of felt.  If you make a garland, put on a movie, and/or break it into a couple of days, because it does take some time.  What is great, is that I was able to create 20 yards of felt Christmas tree garland for four dollars.  You can't beat it, and the intrinsic value of a craft complete and looking pretty, makes me smile.







Merry decorating!

Friday, December 3, 2010

a merry surprise

He totally makes me smile. 

This morning, while reading my favorite blogs, Husband burst through the door with a huge noble.  He was supposedly on his way to the beach to help his dad, but he decided to surprise us with a tree before his departure.  You've never seen a tree come barreling through door, thrown to the floor, shortened and up in a tree stand as fast has Husband can do it.  He can totally get 'er done, and make a wife happy!

And we're so thankful we don't have to wait till next week to make it merry around here!



I've always found him especially attractive with a tool in hand.

cbm

questions of merit and clarity.

October is Bully Prevention month.

Two and a half weeks ago, I returned home from Seattle, where I took part in four days of Olweus Bully Prevention Program training.  In all, I was away for five days, and they were the longest, mentally draining, at times emotionally exhausting days I have experienced since before having children. 

While on my train ride to the north, thoughts of what ifs began to unearth from the deepest pits in my mind.  Will they ask why I was there, and if so, could I answer effectively without any quiver in my voice?  Had I healed enough, and was I ready to teach on this issue that for so many years bound my heart in rivets of lies, and caused me turmoil so great that I was unsure if the depression would ever allow me to be normal again?  I wondered if I was qualified to sit in a room with teachers, principals, administrators, even authors and those who follow their names with M. Ed. , Ed. D?  Would the emotions heave onto my heart and make speaking unbearable, or would I want to leave all together like I did in college while the other soon-to-be teachers talked frivolously and ignorantly about teens and rights of passage?

Suddenly, I was questioning if my own experience had any merit, if my heart for the kids who deal with such issues matter enough, or if my personal experience is enough to get my foot in the door, and in front of the teachers who may or may not think their school has a problem, or in front of the teachers who really don't get paid enough to act as social workers on top of their long list of other teacherly duties, but who feel it their ethical obligation to know how to intervene when they witness or hear of peer abuse among students.

When I realized what was happening, I consciously pulled myself from the negative self-talk of pre-destined failure and inadequacy, and looked north.  I set all the had-beens aside and moved my mind from the realm that I've lived, and away from the feelings that still manage to creep in like the coldest gusts of air that move in from some distant door left ajar, to keep moving; to press on in these moments of not enough answers, and embrace them, and accept them as part of reaching my destination.

God knew I needed some reinforcement, and offered clarity in the softest voice.  We had just been shuffled around into new tables of five and were to begin the next exercise.  After a few quiet moments of reflection, we were to share any experiences of bullying or being bullied in school, and what it felt like when we were at that age...The table leader shared her most vivid memory and then asked me if anything had come to my mind?  For a moment, I floundered.  I have stories falling out of my back pockets, the question was really, which one to choose?  I grappled for a moment, finally choosing one that would suffice.  You'd think I'd be okay with making an example out of myself, especially at a bully prevention training, since I do quite a bit of writing on the subject, but divulging such experiences to strangers, on the spot nonetheless, was quite uncomfortable.

After a short break, the woman who had been sitting next to me returned to the table and said, "I think that was really brave of you to share your experience."  I was surprised and caught of guard to be called brave, and thanked her.  Then she told me that her son had committed suicide four years before as the result of having been bullied.  I was stunned.  Her words pierced my ears and heart in an instant, yet she told her truth with such blatant honesty in the softest voice.  She continued to talk, and I attempted to add in where I could, to be polite, but really, I felt as though I'd slammed into a wall.  You don't know how much you don't know, until someone unexpectedly hands you unfathomable pain, in one sentence.  We exchanged a few more words, briefly explaining each our passion on the subject of bully prevention before the session began again. 

I was still stunned.  After a few more minutes, the reality of the heartache and the loss and the passion that sat next to me, caused my heart to wrench.  I wanted to release the emotions that had filled my chest in an ongoing sob.  I wanted to make a quick exit and return another time, when the emotions and the reality were detached from the program and the workbooks, but I couldn't.  So I gathered myself up with thoughts of her strength.

Meeting Ann, was a blessing, and an undeniable connection was made.  Her story and her strength encourage me in my journey and in my passion for bully prevention because it is kids like her Jeremiah that no longer have their voice to stand against bullying, but who deserve to be stood for.  It is these kids and those who are currently dealing with peer abuse who make it easier to pray for more courage, confidence, persistence and tirelessness to do this work, to prevent others from having to deal with peer abuse, and make something of the memories that would otherwise remain the colorless time in my life.   

You can stand for the silent too, and read more about Jeremiah's Hope here.

October 22nd is Jeremiah's Hope for Kindness Day.  
In memory of those who have dealt with peer abuse and those who are still dealing with peer abuse, please wear yellow.  It was Jeremiah's favorite color.


via

Wednesday, December 1, 2010

Yes, Please!


Peppermint Bark Cheesecake by The Cheesecake Factory.

I know.  I'm always writing about cheesecake.  But I just can't help the fact that I think it makes for one of the prettiest desserts, and most delectable, too.
And since Dairy Queen informed me that they wont be making Peppermint Blizzards this year
(...okay..., really what is with that?  I wanted to ask if they don't celebrate Christmas, either?!),
I may just trade all of those would-have-been calories and go for this!

I have a feeling I could make my own Peppermint Bark Cheesecake, 
but I'm going to hold out--I'm on a dessert break since the last holiday.

Do you have any favorite peppermint desserts?
Please tell me about them!

Tis the season!

“You must write every single day of your life... You must lurk in libraries and climb the stacks like ladders to sniff books like perfumes and wear books like hats upon your crazy heads... may you be in love every day for the next 20,000 days. And out of that love, remake a world.” ― Ray Bradbury
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