Christmas Tree Skirt tutorial

I'm not sure I've done a tutorial, so here's a first!

This tree skirt was way too easy for how pretty it turned out. I usually don't take pictures, because when I do, the project turns out awful (I think it's the pressure). So hopefully you can make due with minimal pictures. It's really not that hard, just some tedious work! I did this in about 4 hours with 1 baby rolling around on the fabric, so you can do it too!

I also use anything I have available, so I can't tell you the exact price of this project, but I'm sure it's not too expensive. I used my pre-cut felt tree skirt, but other tutorials will tell you how to make your own, and to use painters cloth. I think just about anything will hold us. My felt works really well (and is cheap!). The great thing about this project is you can tailor it to suit your needs. I think this tree skirt would look great in just about anything- a flowery pattern, polka dots, ombre... Maybe I'll start making a bunch for next year and open an etsy shop (since those are so popular).

Materials:

Lots of fabric. I used IKEA curtains that I had LOTS of extra. They're called LENDA curtains.. They're 118" by 55". I used about 1 whole panel, plus 3 inches. The great thing about these is they already have a seam guideline for cutting.
Glue gun and glue I used a mini glue gun and 10 glues sticks
scissors
Tree skirt (or extra fabric to make your own- about 4 yards)
Ribbon optional- to tie bows in the back.

If you are making your own tree skirt, see this tutorial: No sew ruffled tree skirt
Start by cutting strips about 2-3".
Glue the strips onto the tree skirt, starting at the bottom and working your way up (from the outside to the inside). Scrunch the fabric as you go, making it ruffle. First I tried overlapping pieces to make it ruffle, but pinching it as you lay it down works much faster and the ruffles look prettier. Make sure you overlap the rows slightly.
At the top of your tree skirt, after you've finished all the rows, add a small strip of fabric for a hem.
Cut 4-6 pieces of ribbon, about 12'' each. Glue them to each open ended side of your tree skirt so you can tie it closed.

That's the end, people! So easy!

Our choice of Education

I have been stewing over this post. For a great long time, I have been wanting to find the words. In fact, I started this idea of a post nearly a year ago.

I'm just going to come clean.

We chose to send our son to public school. Yes, we chose it. We prayed and cried and contemplated. We sought advice. And we came to the conclusion that in this time in our lives, our children will attend public school. This may be temporary, this may be permanent, but we did not take this choosing lightly.

Sometimes I let Facebook get the best of me. I listen to moms brag and rave about home schooling, how it's a wonderful choice- the only choice really. I read the rants on the public school system, and "why is God being taken out of everything?" and good parents make a way to home school their children. It's the best choice, the only choice, the Godly choice.

For a moment, I feel the guilt. But then God does something awesome in my heart and reassures me that this is the right choice for us, right now.

I know there are people do not think God could call anyone away from home schooling their children. But He has. And we firmly believe it. Just as God has not called every single person to be married or single, to have children or not, to be doctors or nurses, to be stay at home moms or teachers, I believe God did not call everyone to home school. ( "For as in one body we have many members, and the members do not all have the same function, so we, though many, are one body in Christ, and individually members one of another." Romans 12:4-5)

Oh sure, there are days when I long to have my son at home, to teach him what I know, to relearn things that have long been forgotten. I want to see his accomplishments first hand and celebrate with him on the spot when the words and sounds that he's been having trouble with come naturally.  But just because I send my child to school, that doesn't mean I don't teach him at home. We certainly talk about what he learns, what he talks about, who he sits with and play with, and even the little girl that passes him notes in class (be still my heart, I'm not ready for this. But at least we're talking it through). No, there is an argument among home schooling parents that if you are sending them to school, you are not teaching, and that couldn't be further from the truth.

But I believe there is a higher purpose for our children in going to public school.

Contrary to popular belief, however, I did not choose this as a mission field for my child. He chose it for himself.

Back when we were "debating" this matter (and I use this term loosely- we've long been decided that when we were no longer provided with private school, our children would go to public school), I was fretting. I'm good at that, really. I would pray and cry, as 'worst case scenarios' would fill my mind. Then a week or so before school started, my son said something (on the topic of going to school) that floored me, that made my heart do flips of joy and conviction at the same time:

"Not everyone knows about Jesus. We need to tell them."

I tell you, there would be no greater sign that God was telling us what to do. I had laid the proverbial fleece, and God made it rain. (Judges 6:36- 40)

When I first tried blogging about this, it was the weekend before the Sandy Hook Elementary shooting. Boy, if there was every a test of trusting God, it was sending my child back to school on Monday. But back then, we stood by God's choice for our children, and still do.

By my son being in public school, I have a far greater reach in our community then I would have without. By volunteering, I see and work with kids I'd never get to meet. Kids who are starving for attention from some kind of parental figure. Kids who need love, not only from people, but a trustworthy, caring and loving God.

This choice for our family, it's a choice for our family. It's not necessarily a choice for yours. What really matters is that parents are having this dialogue with God, and trusting Him with the choice. I still fret and worry. I watch the clock. But I have a reassurance in my heart that this is where God wants us.


*A future blog about public schooling our children is still in the works. I'd like to share our reasons and misconceptions. But for now, I just wanted to encourage those parents who are in the same realm as I am.

** Please know that I am aware that not every parent who home schools thinks this way. I know many parents who home school who accept our choice and reasoning. Parents who share the same the same belief and convictions that we do.

Sweet and Sour Chicken

It's about time! Here's the recipe, along with a few pictures (and my own comments). It's an easy recipe, it's just a little time consuming, but oh so worth it! Hope you enjoy.

You'll need:

3-5 chicken breasts
salt and pepper

Breading:
1 cup cornstarch
2 eggs, beaten
1/3 cup canola oil

Sauce:
3/4 cup white sugar
4 Tablespoons ketchup
1/2 cup white distilled vinegar
1 Tablespoon soy sauce
1 teaspoon garlic salt

Preheat oven to 350*

1. Rinse and cut chicken into one inch cubes. Season with salt and pepper.

2. Heat oil in skillet. Meanwhile, dip chicken into cornstarch and coat all the way, then into eggs.

3. Cook chicken in skillet until golden brown. Don't overcrowd your pan, so you'll need to do this in batches. Once chicken is golden brown, place in a baking dish. (I coat my baking dish with cooking spray)

4. Whisk all the ingredients of the sauce together. Pour evenly over chicken. Turn the chicken so the sauce gets on both sides. 

5. Put chicken in the oven for 15 minutes. Flip the chicken, then cook for 15 minutes more. (When you open the oven, you may want to take a step back, or hold your breath. It smells amazing, but the vinegar can take you by surprise and make your eyes water and nose tingle!)

I serve mine with white rice. I *love* white rice, and so do my kids. I've also served it with mixed steamed veggies or steamed broccoli, but really, this can stand on it's own. Like I said, easy peasy, but a little time consuming. Enjoy!

I couldn't get a picture of my son eating it. EVERY time I make it, he says "Mommy, I don't like that chicken". But EVERY time I make it, he eats it. I think he's just not partial to the smell of it, but he does like it, and he does eat it.

Also, I got the original recipe from pinterest. Here's the original (or at least, original to me): Made It. Ate It. Loved It.: Sweet and Sour Chicken

That time

It comes every year.

Sometimes it sneaks up on me. Sometimes I am ready and waiting. But every year in March, I remember.

The month I lost my first child.

The way I remember is not the same every year. It's not the same because I'm not the same.

Most years, I write about my experience. Some years I send emails to the people who were a part of my story. Sometimes I dig out the bills and stare at them- the only tangible evidence I have that I was pregnant. I allow myself the walk through all the memories I can muster.

Sometimes it's funny what you can remember. I was pregnant just 14 short weeks. Or long weeks, depending on how you look at it. Two of those weeks were marred in sadness and a sense of impending doom.

A few good memories surface, like thinking of how my sisters oldest and my child would be less than a month apart; how exciting it was to create postcards announcing my pregnancy to family; picking out a name and buying tiny baby clothes for my first. Little did I know.... little does anyone know.

But I suppose what I remember most are the hard things. The loud sobs that rocked my body to its core in my school's rotunda bathroom when my body told me for sure that I'd lost my child. The countless blood tests I went through to confirm, some the doctor ordered, some I asked for just to be sure. I remember pleading in a sense with each professional I met to find some glimmer of hope to hold on to. The ultrasound tech just said "... I'm not sure". And that ultrasound. Oh, that invasive ultrasound. I watched the screen, not quite sure what to look for. I'm so thankful to my friend, who was waiting on the other side of the door.

I remember the hospital, the surgery, the recovery room. The nurse, though she was trying to comfort me, making me cry. Everyone made me cry.

I didn't know what it felt like to leaved the hospital with a baby, but I know what it felt to leave empty.

I remember a friend coming shortly after my surgery to make me soup, because she didn't want me to be alone.

I remember feeling like a statistic. Another friend, sister, daughter, cousin.... who had lost a baby. Just another.

I remember the emotional pain, more than the physical. The pain that never really leaves. It gets dulled, it gets pushed below the surface. It gets covered with happy times and memories, but it's always there.


But it doesn't end there. Thank God, it doesn't end there.

God met me in this deep, dark valley in my life. He pulled me close and held me tight. I felt assured that my child was with Him. I laid in bed, clinging to God's word. Some portions spoke deeply to my troubled heart, which is probably how Lamentations became one of my favorite books. Verses like "My eyes pour down unceasingly, without stopping, until the Lord looks down and sees from heaven" (Lam. 3:49-50) mixed with "The Lord's loving kindnesses indeed never cease, for His compassion never fail. They are new every morning; Great is Thy faithfulness" (Lam 3:22-23).

Sometimes I look at my four beautiful children and feel guilty for my grief. How can I be sad about my one when I have four. But my heavenly Father loves each of His children, lost or found. My child was mine. The child who God formed and knew, who was not secret to Him. (Psalm 139)  I remember and I grieve and I thank God.

Just because I have 4 kids...

Instead of doing a blog about my resolutions, the procrastinator in me wants to do something totally different. Let's not analyze which side won out and why. So, here are a few things I'd like you to know about me as a mom of 4 beautiful and tiring children.

I do not know everything.

While I would love to claim that having 4 kids has given me superior knowledge about child rearing, that's just not true. Each kid is different, so I'm basically like a first time mom 4 times over. For example, my third child is the first to use a pacifier, so I have no idea how to wean her now that she's nearly 2 1/2. She is also my first to not really get the hang of potty training. My fourth seems like he's pretty reluctant to get the hang of sleeping on his own. He also doesn't want to eat any baby food. What I do know as a mom of four is that "the best laid plans of mice and men often go awry".

I am not super organized.

Today my son's doctor said "Man, you must be really scheduled at your house with four kids". I just smiled. We are, in fact, not really scheduled. And unfortunately I'm not really organized... YET. Of course, with one in elementary school, we had to get our act together a little. It wouldn't hurt to be organized, but every time I try, we move our lives around, a child gets bronchitis, I get a migraine that knocks me out for days, my favorite tv show comes on, oh wait.

My life is not an open book.

(For strangers, anyway). For some reason, having 4 kids seems to make people lose their minds. Add to that the fact that between each child is less than two years, well people can get down right rude. Yes, we know how this happened. Yes, we know how to prevent it. Yes, for the millionth time, my hands are quite full. Why yes, I am tired, all the time. And frankly, I don't know why it's any of your business if we intend to have more. If you're a friend and you've said any of these things, don't worry, you're in the clear. Although, it is getting a little tiring hearing "boy, you have your hands full", or "you're really busy, aren't you?"

I am no better than a mom with 1, 2, or 3 kids.
I guess maybe it's the side of mom's that want to compare. Listen, I don't think I'm better at anything than any other mom. I think God has given me the task of caring for four, and I think sometimes I get by and sometimes I need help. If you're a mom of 1, 2 or 3, I don't think I'm busier than you, more tired than you or that I have more of a reason to complain. I hear "And I thought I was busy with one (or two... you get my point)." Well, you are. I remember having my first. I was insecure, tired all the time, and I felt like crying at everything. I had no idea what I was doing. My second wasn't any better because I thought it would be a breeze, then she ended up being quite the opposite of her older brother. Going from one to two was a huge adjustment, and I felt like crying at everything.

I am BLESSED.
Children are a blessing. They are a reward. They are a heritage from the Lord. The world quite frankly screams that children are an inconvenience. Sometimes, I've let that noise in, and I've let it convince me of how my life would be without kids. Shame on me. My life would be different, but it wouldn't be better. Yes, my kids can make me feel like 4pm would be a great bed time. They can make me scream on the inside. But my kids make me happier than ever. My independent daughter comes over and kisses my hand and says "I love you". My son climbs in bed to snuggle in the morning, and asks if he can stay home from school to hang out with us. My two year old is a ball of energy and is a delight and my 6 month old smiles every morning and after nap time when I see him. They all are super affectionate and will give you all the love you can stand.  I love my kids, and while I can complain, I wouldn't change having them for anything.