Wrap happy

Good packaging makes me giddy so I guess it’s no wonder that I love to wrap presents. Love, love, love it.

This year, I’m using white butcher paper from Ikea … the kind that comes in a big role and is used most often for kid art. I love using “non-wrap” for wrap … and you can’t beat the price. The crisp white is adorned with brown ric-rac + the fabric yo-yos make a few weeks ago. Red tissue paper + letterpress tags complete the look. It’s endless fun deciding how to put it all together.

Equally fun is receiving packages that have been creatively packaged. Like this one from a client:

I almost didn’t want to open it! But open I did to find a stunning set of letterpress cards. Am I lucky or what?

Off to wrap … back soon!

Me & the button tree

One of the things I love most about blogland is the wealth of creativity and tips — everything from easy ways to miter corners to packaging ideas. I find myself endlessly inspired and antsy to try new projects. And so begins the tale of how I found myself making a button tree. Yes, a tree made of buttons.

It began innocently enough. The supply list was temptingly short: tree-shaped styrofoam, buttons, pins. Check. I decided to alter the idea from the get-go by spray-painting the styrofoam silver. I figured it would be ever so much better to have silver sparkles peaking out through any small gaps. Excellent.

Then I set to work. Ah, very relaxing. Until this point:

At this point, you need to tap your inner engineer to solve many a spatial problem. What started as a speedy quick, relaxing project turned into a painstakingly intense challenge. I wondered, how many pins can one small styrofoam cone take? Turns out, hundreds.

I was not about to give up but I told anyone who would listen that I would not be making a forest of these anytime soon.

Pinning the last button in place was indeed a happy moment.

The finished product is rather pleasing (and not blury in real life!). And the silver spray-paint was a brilliant touch, I must say. This little cutie is going off to a friend who loves pink. And you know, I just might make a few more. Success has transformed my momentum into a desire to repeat (last sentence courtesy of Sage)!

Multi. Task.

Here I sit, cutting out strips of fabrics for 20 first-graders to fashion into scarves for snowmen while thinking through how to turn a standard sales presentation into a hip advertorial. Bits and pieces of other projects — both craft and client — hover nearby.

In a season of multi-tasking, this is the biggest week of all. The run-up to Christmas when time speeds up and you hear folks on the street express surprise that the big day is right around the corner. Gasp! Gulp! The adrenaline kicks in and the temptation to rush, rush, rush is strong.

These are the times that I’m happy there’s Plan B. I like Plan B. Plan B is understanding. Plan B knows that not all plans can be As and is very kind in helping the planner embrace the B. Beautiful things can come when Plan A gives way to B.

Take, for example, the snappy client gifts I planned this year, which required various parts (I know some of you read this blog so I have to be vague!). One part, ordered weeks ago, never arrived. Customer service wouldn’t return calls. I had no choice but to come up with Plan B … as it was I’d left shipping to the last possible moment. With a little helper by my side, Plan B was executed over the weekend; boxes shipped today. Just 30 minutes after returning from FedEx, guess what arrived? Yup, the missing part for Plan A. But you know what, I like Plan B even better.

So I’ve decided not to rush or worry. I’ll go to Plan B (or C or D … heck, I can go all the way to Z if need be) and enjoy this festive week. And maybe, just maybe, time will slow down a little.

Things that make you go hmmm …

Tell me, why does the word marshmallow have an “a” in the second syllable when we say, marshmellow? There I was, making up a list for the 1st grade holiday room party I’m co-hosting next week in which marshmallows have a key role. I spelled it with an “e” and was so confused why it appeared underlined in red (spell checker code for, “hey dingbat, you spelled the word wrong”).

Normally, I’d turn to the dictionary but since it’s big and heavy and currently holding up other books, I opted to Google it. Aside: can’t quite believe I used Google as a verb but am ever so glad it exists.

There is was: marshmallow. In black and white (no red underline at all), proudly sporting an “a” where I maintain an “e” should be. OK, I admit that marshmellow doesn’t look right either. But marshmallow? Mallow? As in rhymes with wallow? That’s just not cheery. And what are marshmallows if not cheery?

Now I can’t get it out of my head. I’m doomed to hear marshmallow (mallow, mallow, mallow) echoing in my head every time I write it. Guess it’s a good thing I don’t write copy for food packagers of marshmallows.

You’ve been ever so patient, dear reader, as I’ve vented about the fluffy items that accompany hot cocoa (see, I can’t even write the word anymore). So let me make an abrupt U-turn and focus on glitter … which is spelled how it should be and has found its way in many corners of the house this holiday season:

The little white specs that look like dust are meant to be snow. But the pretend snow has mixed with the inevitable dust, so now I’m not sure what we have!

Time to refresh

It happened again … a week slipped by in a blink. There is, at the same time, a lot going on and not much to report. Still, I can’t keep the Miss Crankypants post front and center for one more day. So, shall I tell you about beanbags?

Beanbags are the central ingredient to one of my favorite children’s party games. You can toss them in baskets, play hot potato with them or set up complicated targets — all depending on age range.

This set saw action last Saturday at a party for a dozen or so of the 3 and under set:

They were simple to make … 6 inch squares of fabric, sewn and then turned, filled and then blind-stitched closed. I was hoping to skip the hand-sewing step by running a zigzag stitch around the filled bags but Mabel (my sewing machine) was having none of that. She apparently decided that there were too many layers to create a smooth zig-zag.

So just an hour before I had to leave, I found my self hand-sewing the bean bags shut, hoping that the stitch would hold. I figured split peas scattering everywhere were just about the last thing we needed! Note: I used split peas instead of beans because they’re smaller and create a more satisfying bean bag experience. I bet you’re wondering how you’ve lived until now without that bit of helpful knowledge.

Happily, the bean bags stayed in tact through much enthusiastic play. We had so much fun trying them out at home that K has ordered another set, and has already picked out the fabric.

Should you not want to sew your own bean bags, I’ve heard tell that they sell them already made. Or you can use this semi-homemade idea from my friend Donna: fill pre-made muslin drawstring bags with peas/beans, tie and go!

Miss Crankypants

Lest you think I am always full of sparkles, I’m here to dispel the myth. The day started off on the wrong foot with miz K full of attitude. The “whatever” with eye roll did me in. I got mad. And immediately wanted to take away all treats, all fun, maybe even cancel Christmas. Desperately reaching for my inner Audrey Hepburn, I kept my mouth mostly shut but not before telling my offspring what’s what.

Solemn drop-off at school. We’re both mad and sad.

Back in front of the computer, I start to feel badly. For being mean. But that makes me mad because I think, “but she is so lucky to have this, that and the next thing … bratty behavior is uncalled for …” which is quickly followed by the realization that I’m the one who gives her this, that and the other thing, so I’m the one — at least in large part — who has created this situation that is making me so mad. Sigh. Sigh again. Resolve to say no more often but in a patient and kind way. To set-up a schedule that ensures we aren’t in a morning rush. To lead by example.

It’s going to be a day of sighs and glaring at the computer. Time to get out the sparkle reinforcements …

No more stinky tree

The Fed Ex man just picked up the icky, stinky, yucky, blucky fake Christmas tree. He hoisted the 60 lb box on his shoulder like it was nothing. And off it went. I [heart] you Fed Ex man!

Savoring

Slowing down the season by taking time to sip …

To wonder if the Christmas boxes multiplied in the basement during summer …

To focus on little corners …

To eat chocolate chip pancakes for dinner, cozy in our PJs, watching the Grinch (the original of course) by the sparkling tree.

To enjoy the journey instead of rushing through it.

It’s in the genes

I am very particular about the way I put my lights on the Christmas tree. It’s a rather time consuming, patience testing, talking-to-myself process. My ex says it was always 4 hours of annual entertainment … for him! Yes, 4 hours. Sometimes more. You see, I put on a lot of lights … 1,200 the year K was 2 … took me 3 days. And I have a thing about the wires showing. Nope, not on my tree. So a lot of twisting and twining ensues.

This year I decided to go faux. In my head, it made sense. Get a realistic-looking, pre-lit tree. It will save oodles of time and, since I’m not the one who put on the lights, it will be OK if the wires aren’t perfect. Plus I had the idea that it was the better environmental choice.

Big mistake. Big. The tree was so obviously fake. (Note to self: duh!) Not even the smallest attempt had been made to hide the light sockets. And even worse was the smell. The thing smelled like cheap plastic dipped in some petroleum by-product. Add the heat of the lights and it reeked. It was all rather depressing.

After 2 days of sitting on the fence, I dismantled the dang thing, stuffed it back in the box and arranged for it to go back from whence it came.

On Saturday, we went out to choose fresh trees. Yup, I did say trees. One for K’s room and the main tree. Ah, the smell of fresh evergreen. The lights went on perfectly and fast (3 hours tops). And you want to know why? It looks like K has the light-putting-on gene:

As I was testing light strands, she jumped right it. After all the lights were on, she went back and tucked all visible wires. That’s my girl!

24 Days

It’s officially the favorite time of year here at Sparkly Headquarters. And just in case we might lose track of time, we have a new way to count down the days …

I’ve wanted to make an advent calendar for years. And this year, I remembered early enough to do it! It’s a “calendar” in the loosest sense: paper cones modeled after Victorian favors turned into a garland. There were many steps involved but all rather easy after mastering the cone shape (could have used my high school math notes!)

Three kinds of adhesive were used, which always makes for a happy project if you ask me. The hardest part, really, was assigning the mix of candies, stickers and activities (e.g., pancakes for dinner night, a nighttime winter wonderland walk) to the different days.

Then each one was wrapped for added secrecy. Now that K is nearly 7, I’ve had to become more covert with my Christmas surprises!

The finished product is adding the perfect sparkle to the room. Gotta love it when a project turns out the way it looked in my head. Happy December 1st!