Every year I have delusions of grandeur about the holidays (all of them). I'm going to cook fancy food, perfectly decorate my home, take fabulous pictures, and create lifetimes of traditions and memories for my family. And every year, I do basically none of those things. Y'all, I'm not great at holidays.
I have a really hard time keeping up with "traditions." I did salt dough ornaments and gave them out as gifts for a couple of years. Then I skipped a couple of years. Oops.
I thought the idea of wrapping up Christmas books for every day of December was such a great idea. But that seems like a huge waste of wrapping paper. Oops.
I've had an Elf on the...
This morning as I walked my neighborhood there was a definite crispness of fall in the air. While I happily welcome the cooler temperatures, as the newly fallen leaves crunched under my feet I couldn't help but feel a little melancholy over the change of seasons and the impending holiday celebrations. Don't get me wrong, I really love Christmas. We celebrate the holiday season to the fullest extent. Tree, lights, stockings, cookies; I try to never miss a holiday tradition. The squeals of excitement from my children on Christmas morning, the twinkling of holiday lights and the crooning of Bing Crosby makes my heart happy for a few weeks each year. But the arrival (and completion) of Christmas, for...
::Sigh:: Where do I even begin? I had to talk to you more than your two siblings combined. I threatened through gritted teeth and commanded you to "Listen!" "Pay attention!" and "Stay with me!" all while you day-dreamed in your La-La Land at the most inopportune times and places. I had to utilize the Daddy-in-church Grab (that tender part of the upper arm) more than my social media pictures would indicate. I exasperatedly exchanged glances with your Daddy when you absentmindedly failed to hear our calls.
But you were the first to say thank you. You always are. You thanked us for everything: for bringing you to Disney World, for getting you ice cream, even for the cheap gas station...
I’m a mom of a two-year-old. He is great. He is hilarious. He is chatty. I work full-time and have him enrolled in a local daycare/pre-school that I LOVE.
And then about two weeks into the school year, I looked in his folder for his artwork and the teacher let me know that all the artwork would be kept in a binder … till the end of the year!
I was initially just slightly annoyed, then I found out that it was because the school went from being independent to being associated with the Department of Education. I asked the teacher what that meant exactly, and she explained it was more paperwork/administrative changes than anything else. Still annoyed about the artwork,...
Thanksgiving is over, and Christmas is here! Our tree is up, our boys (5 and 3) already got an early Christmas present (a new outdoor play set) and they're watching Christmas movies. The season is all around.
And now, at least for families like mine, comes the seasonal question that I must decide upon: should we play Santa or not?
Ours is a blended family, and when I first met my husband and his sons from a previous marriage, they believed in Santa Claus. And me, being simply the girlfriend at the time, played right along. Even after we got married, I continued to play Santa. After all, at least in my experience, stepparents don't exactly get a say on ending...
Around Baton Rouge
Wearin’ of the Green :: Baton Rouge Goes Wild {and Green!}
Wearin' of the Green :: Baton Rouge Goes Wild {and Green!}
Every March, Baton Rouge flips a switch. Suddenly, the streets aren't just streets anymore—they're...
