Saturday, December 22, 2012

Wrapping Wars

I don't think wrapping paper likes me. I think it seems my incompetent fingers coming towards it and laughs. I've seen it preform beautifully under other people's creative touch but it decomposes under my folding and taping.

Wrapping paper and I get into full on battles with weeping and gnashing of teeth...mine. Though I'm armed with scissors, I'm the one that comes out with paper cuts and tangled in tape.

Score - Paper: 10    Me: 0

Think I'm exaggerating? Ask Matt who witnessed my wrapping battle and just sat there chuckling at my pathetic attempts to cover the evidence of the gift itself.

Right now I've got a floor littered with dozens of scraps of wrapping paper big enough to wrap a small fridge because I can't correctly measure what I need for a small matchbox car.

I went through 2 rolls of tape on a grand total of four presents. I'm the person the wrapping paper industry loves because I use up way more supplies on a handful of gifts than any full family group in North America needs for several years of Christmases.

I guess everyone has their "Bah Humbug" moment and wrapping is mine. I just don't see the point of neatly tucked corners and perfect ribbon curls which will die a quick death in a matter of seconds and be buried in the bottom of a dumpster hours later.

But it wouldn't be Christmas without the living room floor buried under a tidal wave of paper remnants and wading through it to find buried gifts.

So I'll head to the store to fight for the few remaining rolls of tape and continue my wrapping paper warfare to leave my not so pretty packages under the tree to be ripped and torn by excited boys on Christmas morning.

Friday, December 14, 2012

What I Learned From Mary Bailey

1. When a man offers you the moon, take it. Sure, it's frivolous. Sure flowers die, candy gets eaten, the moon won't fit on the mantle, but a man's sincerest gestures of thinking of spontaneous purchases to shower on his lady need to be appreciated, adored, cherished, lest they disappear all together. from one too many comments about price, sensibility, or occasion.

2. Never use any womanly wiles to punish your man for a decision you wouldn't have made. Running off to your office right after saying your wedding vows sure would leave a score hard to come back from, but Mrs. Bailey created a honeymoon retreat while her new husband was hard at work and rewarded him with love and respect beyond words.

3. If a woman can have four kids, run a war effort, and remodel a home, I can find some time to complete some of the home improvement pins I have on Pinterest.

4. Encourage your children to pray for their Daddy. Every man needs to know his spouse is lifting him up in prayer, but there's got to be something to knowing she's leading his children in prayer to their Heavenly Father for him that does a man good.

5. Don't sit around wondering what you can do to help. Mary bailey saw a need and used your good senses and wit to come to her husband's aid instead of wringing her hands. Don't wait around to be told what and how to figure out a problem, jump in and be the help God created you to be.

6. Respect your man unconditionally. Live it out before your children, family, and friends. You will be your husband's princess and most cherished possession and it truly will be a wonderful life.

Wednesday, December 12, 2012

I Surrender to Southern Living...

...and Pottery Barn, and Martha Stewart. I surrender to HGTV, to my Christmas decorating Pinterest board, and to my romantic notions of decking the halls with only boughs of holly. 

I have this simplistic approach to holiday falalala-ling that involves understated natural elements to create a casual elegance that gently hums "O Holy Night".

But I'm surrounded with men whose idea of trimming the tree screams some rambunctious garage band/beat box version of "Jingle Bells, Bat Man smells" with an added dose of chaos. 

But over the years my love of white lights and rustic fresh cut greens have transformed to include construction paper ornaments, anything bright red or green, and frosted window pains created from pb&j residue.

I may never have a tree themed "Glorious Christmas Night" or "The 12 Days of Christmas", but I'm strangely proud of my "Hail to All Things Erratic" themed tree complete with homemade memories hanging from the branches and its seizure inducing flashing iridescent neon. 

I love that all of my men, every one of them, gets giddy with dusk when the colored lights shine brightest.

 I love that our tree is covered in stories. 

And I love that all four of us have a part in rebelling from magazine perfect trimmings and decking our halls our way.