I planned . . . I hoped . . . I mistakenly assumed that this year, for some reason, with more kids than I’ve ever had before and less help than ever, that I would have loads of time to make some things for Christmas. Nothing major, just some Christmas stockings, a tree skirt, garland, ornaments for the tree . . . and of course, cookies.
But so far, I just have the fabric and pattern ready to go. I’m hoping to do something like this, but with a different pattern:
Last night, I tried to aim low and paint two little ceramic ornaments from Hobby Lobby. The Santa looks passable, but the Snowman’s hat started to bleed into his head, thanks to several stops and starts as I tried to get Baby #3 to go to sleep, an over-congealed-pot-o-black-paint, and the mistake of trying to use the brush that came with it.
But I’m going to hang those ornaments anyway, this year, and the years after that, because they will remind me of the time when it took everything just to get those two things done.
In the end, it’s about the stories that go with the objects, isn’t it?
