PS - Shhh…don’t tell anybody about the movie we will be finishing this week! It is gonna be so cute! Like you!
A Christmas present I shall be making for 2 young grandbebes, who shall remain nameless, but may or may not be pictured in this blog post (thank-you, Martha Stewart, for the idea) sent me to Michael’s…where I bought a bag of something I’ll need (which I can’t tell you in case said grandbebes read this! ;p ), which is usually $5.99, however was on a clearance table for $2.99, but when in fact, I went through the check-out, was only 1-cent. That is right! One red penny.
An invitation to a tea by Gavin’s 2nd grade class. We “adopt” his friend, Keenan, whose grandparents are out of town and they serve us tea and lemonade and assorted muffins. The boys are so energetic it makes my head spin. But right in the middle of a school day Monday, my grandson gives me a hug and a kiss and he’s is so glad we are there, I can tell. And Keenen likes us, too.
I pull into the driveway at their house to drop off their cousin and two little Kelley girls run to meet me. “Nonna!! ,” squeals Gemma, and she jumps up to hug me through the window with abanoned glee at my arrival. Guini is slightly more reserved but makes her way to me, “Oh, it is my lovely Nonna,” she says, touching my face, and she kisses my cheek and hugs me through the car window.
Know what is sweeter than kissing a grandbebe goodnight? Waking their warm little faces with a quiet kiss in the mornings. Hunter spent the night and was my little sweety-pie-let’s-have-hot-buttered-toast-for-breakfast guy. I miss having a little person in the house. How did those years go so quickly?
Averi’s momma says Averi has my feet. I ask her, “Do you have Nonna”s feet, Miss Averi?” Yes, she tells me AND we both have bejeweled flip flops. We lie in the grass looking at the clouds and prop our feet up on a retaining wall and take a picture of our cute shoes to remember the moment. Averi thinks mine are pretty and she tries them on. We chat about all sorts of nothing before she insists I push way high in the swing.
“How wise the wise men must have been
To find the child in Bethlehem.
He lives again and draws us near,
Christmastime is here.
A tale of love that never dies
The laughter in the children’s eyes.
The child in me is always there.
Christmas is my favorite time of year.
The mist of wonder lies under my tree
The gift of memories is waiting for me.
The day will come and soon depart
The spirit stays to heal my heart
With love for people everywhere
Christmas is my favorite time of the year.”
*One of my favorite Christmas songs from a Kenny Rogers album in the early 1980′s: Christmas is My Favorite Time of the Year.
Oh, sure. Everybody is just enjoying their Christmas Eve. But how will they feel tomorrow, I wonder, if I refuse to allow the festivities to proceed until the Baby Jesus has been found and returned to His birth stable? Uh-huh. Then they’ll understand the importance.
Update for those behind on the story: The Baby Jesus from the (unbreakable-kid-version) Nativity set came up missing sometime during the Rhoades family Christmas dinner last weekend. There was a sighting (by Hunter) in the bedroom formerly known as Tredessa’s or Zach’s old room. But tips on His whereabouts have not yet panned out.
“I will honor Christmas in my heart, and try to keep it all year.” Charles Dickens
I have a whole blog category called “Keep Christmas” inspired by this very quote. Keep: to continue, maintain, look after, maintain possession of. Provide and nourish it. Maintain, preserve and enjoy it. And what are we keeping anyway? The Christ Mass, the worship of Jesus Christ. Of course I will Keep Christmas. With all my heart!
Of all our social engagements during the festive holidays, there is none so important nor more desirous for which to be invited than the PJ Party with the Grandbebes. The Little Prince himself called for this royal celebration this year, already having deemed it a most regal tradition.
This year’s soiree included “Ice” skating at The Orchard where Gemma promptly fell on her “buns” and did not like skating at all after that, telling every stranger who cared to engage her, “I can’t skate anymore, I am too little,” while Averi went at it as if she were born on ice and Guini fell if anyone skated past her within a 20-foot radius, presumably the wind itself knocking the little featherweight down. But she would laugh hilariously and get right back up and the boys? Well they were boys!. Then there was Taco Bell and these 5 can put away the chips and Nacho Cheese like nobody’s business.
Dave had the 2 little girls while I drove Gavin, Hunter and Guini home. We decided to sing Christmas carols at the top of our lungs, in between theologiocal discussions about how God could be everywhere at once and what God looks like and how God was right there in the car blessing Hunter and holding his hand that very second. Somewhere between “Let it Snow” and “Jingle Bells,” just after the kids had happily spotted the giant star atop the Christmas tree at the Brighton City Hall as we passed, Guini, moved by the true meaning of Christmas, led out a strong, rousing rendition of “Oh no, You never let go.” Yes. The Matt Redman song. And they worshipped their little heads off.
Oh no, You never let go
Through the calm and through the storm
Oh no, You never let go
In every high and every low
Oh no, You never let go
Lord, You never let go of me
Yes, I can see a light that is coming for the heart that holds on
And there will be an end to these troubles
But until that day comes
Still I will praise You, still I will praise You
The annual Reindeer prints: footprint for the head, 2 hand prints for the antlers, the forefinger for eyes and a thumbprint for the nose. These were created to take home for mommys and daddys – a reminder of how much they have grown since last year. Colorful paint and water flew in every direction, but voila! Art!
Then hot chocolate for all and we got in our jammies and pulled the couch close to the TV for watching Sprout and Elf while munching on popcorn.
At exactly 6:13 this morning, I heard the rumble of small feet tear through the house and shrieks of naughty glee and giggles pierced the sweet sleep I so longingly clung to. Capt’n Crunch Christmas Cereal, helping Poppa wrap presents and place them under the tree and early morning screenings of the classics: Rudolph, the Red-Nosed Reindeer, and Frosty the Snowman, our very own film festival! They are making tents of blankets and Baby Jesus is missing. We have sent out a search party, but Gemma announces from the top of the stairs, in that particularly little-lamb voice of hers, “I can’t find Baby Jesus, Poppa. I don’t know where He is?…”
Sandy-the-Dog endures being placed in swaddling clothes, but does enjoy the crumbs and treats the grandbebes leave around the house.
Hunter informs me before leaving that we did not do the PJ Party “correctly” because there were no balloons and cake. He believes with all his heart that a PJ Party must have balloons and cake. {you try, right?}
Christmas is, after all, coming. In only 2 more sleeps!
I am pretty proud of all my girls. Not only do they go all out thinking of the most perfect gifts to give for Christmas, each of them is spending hours and hours creating handmade presents for the family. And these gifts are not just popsicle-stick napkin holders, no. We are talking heirloom quality stuff. One daughter is giving her sister something she spent working 160 hours on. Steph and Stormie have had weekly “Project Mondays” for weeks, both working on unique and thoughtful gifts.
I am just so impressed at what resourceful and loving women they have become, my “little women.”
Stephanie’s domestic creativity showed up on her Christmas tree this year. I’ll let her explain it to you:
Here is my tree:
My colors are white, silver, teal, purple, and black. My main inspiration was the ‘un-Christmas’ decor from Anthropologie*
I didn’t use most of my old ornaments this year. I found things around the house to use and re-use/re-purpose for the decorations.
The big flowers are made out of white tissue paper from the dollar store and old unwanted sewing patterns.
The garlands are made from $1.00 worth of string and yarn from the thrift store. Stormie and I finger knitted each one – there is about 175 ft of it….I think:)
The little white flowers are made from white plastic grocery sacks and white pipe cleaners.
The ‘star’ on top is made from old black paper with writing ( I think it was a report of some kind) that I got for $1 from the flea market. I didn’t want to do a traditional star – just something that would stand out.
This last photo is of Guini and Gemma inside the Anthropologie* store in Cherry Creek – LOVE their tissue paper poms!
Thanks for the peek inside the Kelley-Christmas household, Stephanie. And for being such a thoughtful gift-giver.
We scaled way back this year. We have been scaling back yearly, it seems. But we still mananged to get some of our favorites made and even a new thing or two, keeping that oven hot and hopping for hours. There are the wildly popular “Thin Mints,” a shameless and absolutely amazing rip-off of the Girl Scout cookies. The sugar cookies for decorating are made and await a coating of royal icing in delightful Christmas colors. Jovan used her new Pampered Chef cookie press to make the lightest most buttery press-cookies, dusted in colored sugars.
Stephanie has perfected peanut brittle. There are Mexican Wedding Cakes and Gingerbread Men, along with Peanut-Butter Kisses-Cookies and Chocolate-Covered Peanut Butter Balls heaped next to our chocolate-dipped pretzels and “Strawberry” cookies (which have no relation whatsoever to strawberries, other than how they look, but really are made from dates and pecans and coconut and Rice Krispies and fashioned to look like a strawberry – a Rhoades family fav from the 1950s and 60s). And more, yes, there is more.
One interesting thing this year was computers. Looking around the kitchen and seeing 3 laptops (2 Macs and a PC) open to recipe sites – that was funny. So much for cute recipe cards, huh? It was also quieter and we missed Elise-the-Niece…Well, it was quieter, that is, until the boys and daddies joined us and a chaotic-Christmas-cheer ruckus ensued, fueled, undoubtedly by the pure sweetness of the ‘cane hitting the bloodstream.
The girls swarmed poor Santa
The boys played cards with Aunt Dessa while the girls took our “food orders” for chicken nuggets and muffins, coffee and salad (their imaginary menus were limited and they are sort of pushy as waitresses, these granddaughters of mine). The ‘bebes chased each other, snuck sweets from piled-high trays of goodies and pushed Rudolph’s paw, making him sing the Rudolph song veeeeeery loudly, at least 172 times (that Rudolph nose was flashing like a traffic light, non-stop for hours!). I seriously wished for some one to decapitate Rudolph. But the grandbebes? Find him delightful.
Gemma was particularly artistic in her interpretive dancing, inspired by her viewing of “Frosty the Snowman.” Averi’s great joys were bringing handfuls of cookies to everyone, or unrolling toilet paper into the, shall we say, “bath bowl”, and I just hope there was no criss-crossing of these activities.
And at one point, so warmed by both this season of good will and by the way they’d been running like banchees, all five grandbebes ripped off their shirts and flung them like confetti into the air, thrilled to be set free from the confines of clothing so they could fully enjoy the twinkling lights and the Christmas music. “We’re nakey! We’re nakey!” Averi exclaimed with glee and they laughed as if it were the funniest thing they’d ever experienced.
Rocky and Tredessa interact with Santa as well.
It took awhile to find every shoe and sock and coat amd mitten (and shirt) when it came time to go home with their large trays of cookies and candies. {Sigh}. But we did it…almost. I still have to make the marvelous butter-cookie dough from which will emerge Raspberry Ribbons and melt-in-your mouth Candy Cane Cookies, among other delights, and the Peppermint Bark awaits me this morning. But most of the holiday baking is complete for another year and it is way too much and more than enough and truly not as sweet as the time I got with my girls. And the whole bunch.
With Love from the Gingerbread House….Jeanie
NOTE TO SELF: Prep more next year.
December 1988. Stephanie was 6 and we left her and her two sisters (Tredessa 5 and Tara 9 1/2) home alone for a few minutes while we picked up some church supplies for the Christmas season. Wal-Mart was 5 minutes away and it was a small Nebraska city. I wouldn’t try this now, so don’t call Social Services on me, people. They were given strict instructions and told to behave.
We get to Wal-Mart and call home to check on them and are informed by the very responsible and afraid-she-might-be-in-trouble Tara that Tredessa and Stephanie were jumping on the bed and Stephanie had hit her head on Tredessa’s noggin, knocking her tooth loose.
It was very upsetting. Rushing home I am thinking, “Oh no. We have to save the tooth. Oh poor Stephanie!” But it ended up being a bottom tooth and when we investigated closely, she already had her first “grown-up tooth” coming in. Tredessa’s head was a blessing in diguise.
Having 5 kids in less than 7 years, can I just tell you we kept the Tooth Fairy veeeeeeeery busy between 1985 and the early 90′s? Then? We had to give her a pink slip.
Gavin is a man after my heart. He loves to work and work hard. He spent 4 hours one day last week shoveling snow. His neighbor paid him $2 – for shoveling at his own house! But he thought it was worth that! After the Harvest Fest he dumped his huge candy haul on the floor and said, “I have to organize all this candy, Nonna!” Organization is key for Gavin, a red-headed first-born. Case-in-point, he had just organized the kitchen pantry that afternoon, emptying it of all its contents and carefully filling it back up.
So no surprise that this very detail-oriented and hard-working, freckle-faced kid only had that loose tooth for 2 or 3 days before it came out. He is very consistent and organized that way.
Love you, Gavin! Congratulations! Be sure to tell the Tooth Fairy that prices have gone way, way up since December of 1988!…Love, Nonna
Guinivere and Gemma show up on a crisp autumn morn to hang out with Nonna. Gemma runs to me, squealing with joy, “It’s Nonna! I found Nonna!” I pick her up and twirl her around and she squeezes her face to mine. Guini sneaks by to head straight for the toys and snacks.
Outside there is a fairly strong wind, and though the sun is the brightest bright, we determine quickly that something warm to drink will be in order. I supply my sweet-petites with hot chocolate. They add a crystally sugar cube (because Nonna is out of marshamallows and you must add something) and begin happily stirring and sipping. I join them on the patio with my piping hot coffee.
We discuss all manner of fun topics as we watch Sandy-the-Dog chase birds, and bees are drawn to the pink, sparkly shoes they are wearing. Our steamy hot beverage party moves from under the canopy on cushioned chairs to the stairs to the antique bed/couch (temporarily not in its’ rightful patio space due to a social function held here recently). At some point Gemma divines that if she has a blanket, she can just sprawl on the patio concrete and be quite content.
Suddenly the grandbebes are hungry. I grab a bag of tortilla chips and, for myself, some homemade salsa (the hot stuff). Grown men were unable to eat it the other night, yet Guini devours salsa’d chip after chip saying, “It isn’t too bad. It’s not too spicy.” That’s my girl!
“Nonna, can we watch Sprout?” Yes.
5 minutes later, “Nonna, can we have lunch?” Seriously? Well, maybe a snack, I decide, and as we go through the list of everything we have in the house, they settle on hot dogs. They each have 2. With mustard AND ketchup (ick). Did I not train their mother correctly on acceptable hot dog condiments??!?
Energized by food, they make quick work of the family room, grabbing every pillow and couch cushion, making a circle around the coffee table. Now it is time to run like banchees and scream at the top of our lungs. Round and round the table we go, running on top of the pillows, which, is actually pretty dangerous, let me tell you.
After they tire of it (and I am nearly dead), they pull out the play cell phones and it seems that everyone who calls them wants also to talk to me. I do my best to have believeable conversations into dead phones, as Guini and Gemma follow the chatter quite closely, nodding their heads as if they knew exactly what the phantom-person on the other end wanted to discuss with me. Tara and Tredessa “called” a lot. That is all I am saying.
“Nonna, I have to go pottie,” Gemma would excitedly exclaim. This happened at least 17 un-event-filled times (and did not happen twice when it should have), but we did have quite the chatter-filled bonding time. Guini-the-Flower girl informed me that cameras were not welcomed. And even though I tried to tell her it would warm my heart to have memories of this beautiful, crisp, fine, fall morning together, she was resolute. Softly, yet without apology she said, “I told you no pictures today.”
But it is captured in my heart and my mind’s eye. And I did sneak a couple of shots. Think she’ll forgive me?
