The Fairly Odd Mother

I’m all out of love

February 12, 2010

It all started with the stack of Valentine’s Day cards that we made for the Veterans Hospital in town.

Then, I signed up our family for the 2010 Homeschool Valentine Exchange. We sent ten families these (from Family Fun):

Yes, those are glow sticks. I hope they get to where they’re going without cracking-and-glowing inside the envelopes. “Here kids! A plastic stick!”

While we were at it, one of my favorite bloggers asked if we wanted to exchange cards this year, and so our glowsticks are probably now stuck in Canadian customs while bomb-sniffing dogs circle the envelope.

But, with all of those cards going out by the 5th of February, it seemed we had SO MUCH TIME to finish all the other cards.

All 131 of them.

First were the 20 for D’s preschool class. He wrote each child’s name on the envelope and his name on the back of flying saucers. We put his little martian head on the front, and the words “You’re Out Of This World” on sticky labels so he could just peel-and-stick his sentiment. I called in my free labor (daughters) to help me cut and glue his little martian head (yes, I suck at any kind of “photoshopping”).

Then there were the 111 cards for today’s homeschool Valentine’s Day party (that’s 37 kids x 3 children).

Thank goodness Belly executed hers almost entirely on her own, using cardstock, an “I think you’re sweet” bird stamp, and a lollipop.

Jilly needed a little help, so we made puffy paint and decorated a zillion paper hearts which then were hung from a ribbon. She carefully wrote all 37 names in silver Sharpie after the paint had dried (warning, if you ever do this, your house will smell like shaving cream-glue for days afterward).

I knew D would smother me if I asked him to write his name 37 times, so I “cheated” and pulled out my secret weapon: Avery printable business cards. A few minutes on the computer to insert a photo and a little Valentine message, hit print and Voila!: “homemade” cards that he can shove into 37 bags today.

And, who can forget these little beauties from Cool Mom Picks’ Etsy contest? We didn’t–the kids have colored these to give to family and other friends who we won’t see today.

It seems humorous to me that I once worried that my poor classroom-less homeschooled kids would miss out on all the fun of exchanging Valentine’s Day cards.

Now, excuse me, I need to make cupcakes for today’s Valentine’s Day party. And fight the crowds at Target for a few little treats for my own sweethearts.

The irony? Do you think we’ve even started these lollipop plants? Of course not. Procrastinator’s version, FTW!

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FTW: “for the win” for all of you who don’t waste your idle time on Twitter.

Filed Under: Fairly Odd Kids, Fairly Odd Me, Homeschooling 16 Comments

From the mouths of over-imaginative babes. . .

February 9, 2010

At D’s preschool, there is a message board outside of the classroom where the teachers place little quotes they hear from the kids. Here is the one from D:

Um, yeah, maybe I drank one too many coffees while pregnant.

Filed Under: Fairly Odd Kids 20 Comments

The lollipop plant miracle that mere mortals can perform

February 6, 2010

This is a reprint from last year, so it may look familiar. For anyone new here (Hi! Welcome!), we hope you’ll enjoy reading about our Valentine’s plant tradition and maybe make it your own. . .

When Belly was a toddler, an online friend posted a Valentine’s tradition that was so easy and flexible that I knew I had to try it out. We are now in our fifth year (this will actually be the sixth), and now the kids expect it. You’d think I’d be better prepared for it each year.

It does involve a bit of deceit, so if you are someone who thinks Santa and his ilk are terrible lies for children to believe, you may want to stop reading now.

OK, here is what you do to make your very own Valentine’s Day Lollipop Plant:

1. A few days before Valentine’s Day, give you child a small empty flower pot.

Procrastinator version*: the night before, take your saddest looking house plant and, without letting the kids see, pull it out of the soil and throw it out into the backyard to serve as compost. Or just use a cup.

2. Let the kids decorate the outside of the pot with stickers, markers, glitter glue.

Procrastinator version*: skip this step; it is almost bedtime!

3. Once the decorations have dried, carefully fill the pot with several inches of fresh potting soil.

Procrastinator version*: search garage, basement and shed for potting soil, to no avail. Either reuse the soil that was once the life force of the dead plant now lying in your backyard, OR, go into the yard with a spoon and chip off a half-inch of hard dry dirt from the frozen ground.

4. Give your child some tiny cinnamon hearts and have him push some into the dirt. Blow a kiss and water them a little bit.

Procrastinator version*: Oops! No cinnamon hearts? Use anything sprinkly or red and hope your kid is too young to notice the difference.

5. If you have started your plant a few days before Valentine’s Day, you can make the plant start to grow over several days. The first night, cut up a few lollipop sticks into various heights. The first night, put the smallest sticks in the dirt so that the plant seems to be ‘sprouting’. The next night, replace those sticks with slightly longer sticks. . .keep this up for a few days.

Procrastinator version*: You did not start your plant a few days before Valentine’s Day.

6. The night before Valentine’s Day (Valentine’s Eve?), replace the sticks with several beautiful lollipops. Go to bed and know that you will be woken to the delighted shrieks of “it grew! it grew!”

Procrastinator version*: The night before, sneak out to the local CVS after the kids have fallen to sleep and buy the last sad bag of lollipops (which are not red, heart shaped or have anything to do with Valentine’s Day but beggars can’t be choosers). Fall asleep but wake with a jolt at 6am and realize you forgot all about the damn plant. Tiptoe down the stairs, and carefully jam some pops into the dirt. If necessary, shield the plant from view with your body as you do this so your child does not see his mother’s lame attempt at creating “magic”.