Handcrafted Christmas

Blame it on my place of work, but I've got nothing but Christmas on the brain lately!

We've been talking about Christmas since I started work with The Salvation Army back in January, and now - 10 months later - I am up to my eyeballs in Christmas from Santa Shuffle to Beary Merry and back around to Christmas Distribution and kettle kick-off and everything else under the Christmas tree sun. I've always been a keener about getting Christmas presents sorted out, but this year I had an extra kick in the arse to get me going:I challenged myself to make as much as possible.

LET THE CRAFTING BEGIN!

I started my own Christmas gifting campaign way back in October with more glitter and paint than any adult woman should ever have in her possession. It was hours spent cutting paisley shapes out of dictionary pages and scrapbook paper. It was a few hours of editing photos and designing Christmas cards and some other dandy photo-gifts for a few family members. It was a lot of burns on my hands from the glue gun (they are dangerous, people!) and it has been nothing shy of fun.

Aside from the fact that most of my presents will be totally unique, I've been able to save a lot of money by making things while also feeding my creativity a bit. I had loads of paint, paintbrushes and canvases to get me started on most of the gifts and a few trips to Michael's and Dollarama filled any gaps in my plan. F even joined in on the action, and it gave us the perfect opportunity to bond over some fun with paint and left me with a mess the size of Russia all over my dining room table.

If you're thinking about handmade Christmas gifts, let me give you a few ideas.

-- White mugs from Dollarama + a Sharpie and a steady hand = cute, personalized coffee mugs! Don't want to use a mug? Grab a plate instead. Black is my favourite (black on white is easy-to-read and chic) but you can use any colour, as long as you're OK with it changing a bit as it bakes. Some colours won't stay true. Simply write your message or draw your design and bake at 350* C for 30-45 minutes. Let cool. Be cool. 

We painted our trunk instead.

-- Canvas + paint + little hands and feet = Make a Christmas Tree paint project out of a white canvas and your child's hands and feet! Start at the bottom with a brown footprint (heel pointing the top of your tree). Allow the paint to dry. Now, with green hand prints, build your tree as a triangle. Allow all the green paint to dry. Top it with a yellow hand print for your star and get real creative by letting junior use finger and thumb prints to put ornaments on your tree and get that thing colorful and bright!

-- Wooden anything + sea shells or little beach rocks + glue gun = seashore inspired art! Take a Dollarama picture frame and make it beach-y, or build something using old wood and cover it in rocks and seashells. It's shore to impress. (The funeral for that pun will be held at 2 pm on Saturday.)

-- Bake something! Whether it be chocolate chip cookies or a delicious loaf, home baking is something few people have time for these days! Don't have time to do the actual baking? Throw all of the dry ingredients in a jar and present it with instructions. 

If you can't make it all by hand, try buying a handful of small, inexpensive things for your loved ones this year and package it artfully and uniquely for them. Personalized gifts show the recipient how important they are to you.

Still stuck? There's no shame in a gift card!

Operation: Gratitude, Part 3

I'm so glad we did this.

I'd be lying if I said this whole thing was a walk in the park. Starting out, things weren't so pretty. There were some tears and anger, and it was frustrating for both F and I as he was trying to understand all that I was trying to explain to him. Around the time I was ready to throw my hands up in the air and give up, F asked me to wait "right there" before he hopped off his chair and ran down the hallway. We had been getting ready to write our letter, so I doodled on a piece of paper while I waited. 

And waited, and listened to the sound of F digging through his toy box and then to the sound of his entire toy box spilling onto the floor until he came running back with a little purple truck in his hand. I should have taken a picture of it this, but I think my emotions fogged up my brain. I want to send him one of my own toys, too, Mommy. Yup. My kid is awesome.

We talked about how special Christmas is and we talked about what Christmas looks like for us. We go to Grammy and Grampy's house and open our presents, but mostly we go home and we spend time with the people we love. That's pretty special. And then we talked about all of the homemade gifts we're working on for loved ones this year, and how love goes into everything we make and wrap and give to our friends and family. And then, we wrote this letter:

Hello.

My name is Finley and I am almost 4 years old. I live with my Mommy in a city called Halifax with our cat, Duncan. He is orange and soft. I go to preschool when my Mommy is at work. It is fun, and I make lots of friends there.

I hope you like the present we picked out for you. I have a soft bunny, too. I sleep with him at nighttime. I packed one of my trucks for you to play with. My Mommy makes Christmas special for me, and we want you to have a special Christmas, too.

The most special gift is invisible in your box of goodies, but we hope that each time you hold or play with one of your toys, you can feel the love that we packed them with.

Happy Christmas!

Love your Canadian friends,

Finley and Ashley (Mommy)

Even though the Operation Christmas Child boxes are being collected this week, you can still make a difference in a kid's life. Head on over to the Operation Christmas Child page on Samaritan's Purse website and donate, or fill a box online. 

Operation: Gratitude, part 2

First, I have to admit to something: I cheated.

BUT I didn't buy the two pairs of boots on Beyond The Rack that I was totally in love with and instead, went out and got all of my Operation Christmas Child goodies during my (three hours behind schedule) lunch without F. I have to admit... I chickened out on bringing him anywhere near a toy section. And I will also admit that I bought him a small treat to make sure that he's not feeling badly about this whole giving toys away thing... which he will get after everything else is finished. In case you're interested, it's a box of crayons. From Dollarama.

It hadn't really occurred to me that a 2-4 year old boy wouldn't be the easiest to shop for, and considering I only have a shoe box worth of stuff to choose from, I had to really put on my thinking cap. I picked up some socks, a storybook, crayons, a notebook, a t-shirt, and a canvas bag which this little boy can decorate and carry his things in. I also got him toothbrushes, soap and a stuffed animal. I tried to find candy that was individually wrapped, but then I realized that when F was two years old I wouldn't have given him any candy at all, so I decided to give up. I may change my mind yet.

Finley with our OCC box!

Now that the present itself is taken care of, it's time to start writing a letter so I asked F to tell me what he'd like to say to a little boy at Christmas. We started working on our letter but didn't finish it, so you'll have to wait until tonight or tomorrow for the final draft.

Christmas is such a commercial holiday for us here in North America that even the best of us get wrapped up in the excitement of shopping for and wrapping and opening gifts that we forget what Christmas is supposed to be about. Even a family who doesn't observe Christmas as a religious occasion can agree that Christmas is about love and family.  

I am guilty of making Christmas about Santa Claus for F, and while I don't think that's a crime in itself, I believe that I'm robbing F of the true meaning of Christmas by letting Santa and his elves have all the glory. As we get closer and closer to the most wonderful time of the year, I look forward to reading The Christmas Story as much as The Night Before Christmas. I'll look forward to telling F about Baby Jesus and the miracle of love, and you better believe I'll love using "the elves are watching!" as a method of modifying his behavior. In addition to the toys and the movies and the fun that F will be getting this Christmas, I want to give him more.

I'm giving him the gift of gratitude. Of love. Of sharing. And, most of all, of giving.

Operation: Gratitude

I was a spoiled kid.

In fact, I am still spoiled. My parents bought me a dozen roses and my entire family showered me with gifts and love and awesomeness and a disgusting amount of delicious, delicious food last weekend as we celebrated my graduation a year after starting PR school. If you were near me right now, you'd be able to see the drool dripping down my chinny-chin-chin because the food was that awesome. Broccoli salad should be illegal, you guys. 

But I digress. Spoiled rotten I was, and remain to be so I guess it won't come as a surprise that my sweet little guy is also spoiled.

F has so many toys that he has a full collection at my mom's house and a full collection at my house. He's got movies, books, an iPod Touch and all kinds of cool gadgets that didn't exist when I was a kid. I take full responsibility for spoiling my child. I want him to have all of the nice things I had growing up, and more. I want to give him these things, and when I can't it breaks my heart. And, admittedly, I've been giving him things to try to compensate for his dad not being here.

But it's time I give him more. I'm going to give him compassion. I'm going to give him understanding. I'm going to give him more love. And today, he's going to give toys to someone else as we fill a box full of items for a child in need this Christmas. 

My parents gave me toys and clothes and stuff, but they also gave me morals and values and a desire to make the world a better place. Now, I work for one of the biggest, most recognizable charities in the world and I help people day in and day out. It's time F learns how amazing it is to give. It's time F realizes how lucky we are. It's time he learns what gratitude is.

Will it be easy? Probably not. But it will be worth it. Stay tuned for photos, videos and a copy of the letter we send to a 2-4 year old boy in need this Christmas.  

Boring Day

We survived Christmas.

In truth, it was highly unlikely that I wouldn't make it through the day but it was a real fear for me nonetheless. After spending the better part of the last two months almost totally alone, being around family was a precarious combination of stressful and relaxing, alternating between the two quicker than you can say "turkey dinner". I won't deny that I spent the entire day waiting for the phone to ring, only to disappointed (and a little bit hurt) by a text message from J that said "Merry Christmas. How did F make out?"

Mom and Dad's living room looked like Toys-R-Us and Walmart's Christmas aisle threw up in it. There were toys, presents, Christmas stockings and ornaments every where. By the time all of the presents were opened (over an hour after the commencement), you could barely tell there was a floor beneath all the torn wrapping paper and empty toy boxes. F was so excited he was, possibly for the first time ever, at a loss for words. He walked around the living room talking to everyone and looking at everyone's gifts.

I was ready for bed by mid-afternoon, and exhausted by the time I'd finished my turkey dinner. F's joy was fading into a sour mood, and my patience was all but gone. When we settled into bed, F with his new toys and me with my new Kobo, it took about ten minutes for us both to conk out. I was more than a little happy to wake up today and to know that Christmas is over, at least for another year.

I laid in bed this morning thinking of all the presents I had found under the tree yesterday, how generous my family had been. I thought of how blessed I am to have the love and support of my parents, and how incredibly blessed I am to have a healthy, happy little boy to spend my days with. In the midst of his meltdown last night, I had lost my temper and reached the end of my rope and I regretted it this morning.

So many mothers were without their children yesterday. So many mothers would have given anything to have a meltdown take place in the middle of Christmas dinner or to have their child stick their tongue out at them and be saucy as she was getting his jacket on him.

The best gift of all was bouncing off the walls yesterday, not wrapped neatly under the tree.

Christmas-y

Christmas is supposed to be the happiest time of year.

It doesn't seem like long ago that it really was the happiest time of the year for me. Excitement and magic filled the air, and the anticipation of Santa's arrival was almost too much to bear. My baby brother and I would sleep in his bedroom on Christmas eve and then wait (albeit impatiently) at the top of the stairs on Christmas morning for Mom to wind up the camera and take a photo of us in our PJs before we rushed in to see what Santa had left for us.

After opening our stockings and having a cup of tea, we'd wait until 7:00am to call Nanny and Papa next door to tell them we were up and ready to open our presents. It was tradition, and I loved it.

Now, though, Christmas just doesn't hold the same wonder. I've filled it with financial stress and worry, rushing through the motions, trying to remember where I stashed the presents for Mom and F, and of course making sure everything is just right. By the time Christmas day arrives, I can't wait for it to be over and that makes me just a little sad.

It's during this season of merriment and cheer that I find myself missing Papa the most. I miss his laugh, his mischevious grin and the way he talked about salt herring (his favourite meal) while sipping his Canadian Club and 7-Up at the Christmas dinner table. I miss my great-aunt Mayme and her husband, Doug, who always chimed in that turkey dinner was his favourite. This year, I'll miss J too. We spent the last four Christmases together, and this is just another "first" to get through without him.

I'm trying hard to get into the Christmas-y spirit and help F get excited. He has some idea about toys under the Christmas tree, but he's not totally into it yet. I have the NORAD Santa Tracker open on the computer, and we'll make some Gingerbread men later today. The Christmas tree in Mom's living room is beautiful, with gifts piled up and around it. Everything is decorated, and there's even a little bit of snow on the ground - just enough for "Santa to rest his runners on". 

Tonight, I'll read in church and we'll come home and share the story of the Night Before Christmas, just like always. We'll open the rum and the wine and we'll all sit around the living room and I'll bask in the joy and love of being close to family, even if it's a little bittersweet.

I'm hoping the candlelit church service and snowflakes in the air can bring the Christmas spirit into my heart tonight, but I'm willing to bet the excitement dancing in F's eyes when he sees all the toys in his stocking tomorrow will inspire nothing shy of a Christmas miracle for this girl.