The boys and I do this one every year, usually right at the start of Lent so I can enjoy the color as I drive up to the house. Birds don't eat them, neither do I. Since I was slower this year putting it together, instead I am going to take it to the office for a couple of days to brighten the space.
Since I have also embarked on the world of Pinterest, here are the directions.
Start with a 12" straw wreath.
Leave the plastic on and you can reuse it every year.
Poke toothpicks just over half way through.
Cluster together the Peeps.
Leave them to dry/harden over night before hanging.
Add a ribbon.
Ta Da!
I use about 7 boxes of peeps, multiple colors, the closer together the better.
Sometimes I wrap a ribbon around the wreath before adding the Peeps, especially if someone has gotten to them before I have and there are fewer then expected.
I tell the kids all the time that when they are naughty or I am angry I love them the most/more then ever.
That being said, there are times like this morning where I have to meet with a teacher before school/work and all I want to do is cry my eyes out and tell them to stop picking on my kid; while at the same time telling my kid to knock it off and stop picking on their teacher.
I love being a mom and it is an amazing experience that makes my heart full to bursting. It is a wild ride sometimes too, and if I was honest, I want to get off today.
This has become an
Olympic Sport in our house. Trained as I was in the art of second
guessing, door mat and self-loathing. I would make a good Catholic I
think, if I could manage the kneeling.
As a mom I found it
could be ratcheted up to a whole new level that I couldn't even envision in my
inexperience and days of sleeping in. I have been keenly aware of my
guilt and talk often with moms from all walks of life about this shared
experience. This last month though, I must say my elitist view of guilt
came into sharp focus when Phillip was deciding on taking a new job. He
had moments of sheer panic that he wasn't going to be the kind of dad he wants
to be with this great unknown work schedule. He was not comforted by my
insistence that the boys and I could manage and he would still be very involved. I saw in his eyes and on his face the pain and debilitating
grip that guilt holds me hostage to so often. I knew that nothing I could
say would assuage his feelings or ease the burden of this decision. We
spent the rest of the evening doing all the funky math that is required to
determine your vacation hours earned per month in time for summer camp to
ensure that he would still be able to go with both boys. Guilt, you have
taken my love, curse you!
Parent guilt. I
don't care if you work for a paycheck out of the house, work for a paycheck
from the house, volunteer at levels that are debilitating or volunteer to cut
things out at home. I don't care if you spend all day with your children
and are consumed by their every waking moment or are frantic to cram in quality
time in what little quantity time you have. We ALL are motivated by
parent guilt.
Is this enough?
Is it too much? Do I need to do more? Do I need to do less?
Did I say the right thing? How do I recover from saying the wrong
thing? Did I hug them enough today? Is it wrong that I can't stand
one more person using me as a jungle gym? Is it okay to want a break that
doesn't involve a lock on the bathroom door? I just can't get enough of
my kids, is that okay too?
If I am honest with
myself I feel guilt regardless. Prime example is the dinner I put on the table. If it is
home cooked, all their favorites and meets all their
nutritional/allergy/preferences I worry that I spent so much time not 'fully'
engaged. You know, the time where they no longer want to help cook, have
homework, have been plugged in too long, need me to sign something about
volunteering for something but I really DON'T want to burn things. When I
cheat at cooking and instead play a board game, read a silly book or just sit
beside them while they are plugged in, I worry that I'm not feeding them
well. Really? Really?
So this common thread
through parenting can eat us up. Maybe spit us out, but probably
not. It drives us to do these crazy things, like compete with other
parents. We begin to judge others against the nonsense we have going on
inside our minds, which remember are being held hostage. This of course,
if you have truly honed your skills at guilt, just adds another, deeper level
of self loathing.
I don't know what the answer is, but I am actively talking about this 'shared' journey with other parents, well mostly other moms. Guess what? There is less guilt when you hear that no one else cleans the shower as often as you would like and there are shortcuts to a decent dinner and yes, while we all like a break outside of the bathroom, we are all grateful when we can even close the door so a lock is nothing to be ashamed of.
And now? Well, for all my progress, now I need to compete with Phillip? Well crap! Who's going to make dinner?
