Heavenly Holiday Activities

Have you ever carefully planned and anticipated a family activity? You picture the laughs, the smiles, the glow of family togetherness....
See, I'm not a crafty mom. The very idea of sitting down to do a project with my kids raises my blood pressure, and I start to feel like a caged animal. This Christmas, I vowed to give my children more Christmas cheer than they've had in their whole lives. This was going to be the year when we bake cookies, sing carols, do (gulp) crafts, and generally make merry every day. I ripped off my sister's idea and made a paper chain and wrote a festive activity for each day. We've been working our way through holiday movies, candy-glass ornaments, gingerbread men, and finally last night, gingerbread houses.
I've bought every candy imaginable, even waffle cones for towers. I've really looked forward to this, but yesterday something happened that I couldn't have predicted: school was canceled. I had already exhausted my supply of patience by the time we began our grand project.
I was already tense when we sat down to start. The boys were so excited, they were literally bouncing on the benches. I remembered something I'd forgotten in the kitchen and turned to get up when...WHAM! I was blinded by pain. There was a huge blow to my nose, accompanied by a sound like a beetle getting stepped on. My little 6 year old had chosen that exact moment to loose himself from the bands of earth and rocket to the stars.
I'm not happy, clutching my face, sure that the blood will soon be flowing through my fingers. I let out a wail "WHY can't you guys just sit down like normal HUMANS!" At this point, the wretched child dashes from the table, runs to his room and slams the door. I'm not far behind him, flinging myself on my own bed. I chance a look at my face, and sure enough, there isn't even a mark. Maybe a slight swelling. I'm bitterly disappointed that I'm going through so much pain, and I have nothing to show for it. Alas, life's not fair. I'm feeling guilty, because it was an accident, and I should have kept my mouth shut, or at least kept my mouth nice. I hear the little disgraced one return to the table, so I join them too. We salvage the night, and manage to end up with some pretty impressive creations.


See, not even a mark. Just the red spot from where my stitch was a few weeks ago.

His ended up looking less like a house, and more like a trailer park after a tornado.

This is all that was left of the our oldest's creation. He's not much into architecture.

A sultan's palace, perhaps?

Here's the little bruiser. I'm not bitter, though.

And finally, the over-achiever of the family. And thankfully, the one with the coolest head.