When Preschool Snacks Attack: Part 2

Snack Week Day 2: Letter I cookies

And Brynna's version. I'm sure there's an "I" in there somewhere...

Will the children know the letter on Friday? I don't know. Will they be in a sugar-induced coma? Possibly.

When Preschool Snacks Attack: Part 1

Ok. Here's what happened. Every kid is designated certain weeks to bring snacks. It can be as cute or simple as you want to make it, but they request if possible, you try to bring snacks that start with the letter they are learning that week. When I first heard this, I thought "No biggie." Apple starts with "A", Banana starts with "B... When I looked at the calendar last week and realized it's our week AND IT'S THE LETTER "I", I was not so confident. Have you ever tried to think of foods that start with "I"? Go ahead. Try. I'll give you a minute. Now back out anything kids won't eat. Take away things that are too messy to eat or transport to school. And remove from your list things too difficult or time consuming to make because, remember...well, I'm me.

So I did what any self-respecting mom would do. I googled it. And I found...nothing. No one had anything better than I came up with. Rude! I was just about to accept my fate (again) as "that" mom when I came across a picture of cupcakes baked into ice cream cones. Now, I immediately decided against attempting to bake anything inside of something else because, remember...well, I'm me. What I lack in crafty, though, I make up for in clever. I figured I could set a PRE-MADE mini cupcake inside of a STORE BOUGHT ice cream cone and voila! (Important words at 6pm the night before are denoted in all caps)

 

I even used the pink cupcakes because we had some already so I was thrifty, too. BAM! Who's #1 mom, now?! I was so proud of my accomplishment that I posted the greatness on Instagram, which links to Twitter, which links to Facebook. I needed the whole world to know!! And know they did!

And then.................................

Pride comes before a fall...of cupcakes...all over the kitchen...

David came down from putting Brynna to bed to find me laying in the kitchen floor surrounded by ice cream cone cupcakes. By the time I pulled myself together, he had picked up what was on the floor so this picture doesn't do the mayhem justice. It also doesn't capture the look on his face.

Points for helping me clean. Foul for laughing.

So! After cleaning the kitchen, I went back to the grocery store. I was about to admit defeat but I couldn't. I couldn't let preschool snacks beat me because, remember...well, I'm me. Seriously. There's no where to go from there!! What happens in 1st grade show-and-tell? What does that mean for jr. high science fair? For non-Pinteresting moms everywhere (or just me) I needed to win.

So I got my second round of ice cream cones and headed for the self-checkout where I had been only an hour before. And do you know what the 17 year old kid at the grocery store said to me? "Were you just here? That's a lot of ice cream cones." I'll show you a lot of ice cream cones.......

I let the kid live, went home and this time, David walked into the garage to find me digging in the recycling bin. This is what I've become. I found what I was looking for - a cereal box - and went inside to make some kind of contraption that the ice cream cones wouldn't fall out of. And by "I went to make..." of course I mean, David made.

Sometimes you have to call in reinforcements 

He made the holder, I assembled the cones, complete with a "cherry on top", and when I walked into school this morning, no one was the wiser. Until I came clean to all the moms on the playground after school.

And I learned my lesson. Cute as I thought they were, these pictures were not shared on social media. Until now.

Home Project: Wall of Art

I've had this idea for awhile, and this weekend my sweet husband helped make it a reality. (He's required both for heavy lifting and precise measurements. I get distracted, start "eyeballing"...it spirals out of control. But I digress.) I wanted to frame some of Brynna's artwork in our entry hall. I thought it'd be a cute idea. It turned out to be way more than that.

I bought frames especially designed for kids' artwork so you can easily add more, replace, etc. They are advertised as being a way to keep their masterpieces over time and "build self esteem." I thought that an interesting marketing technique, and as the day has gone on, I couldn't agree more. I love the way it looks. I love that we will be able to see and enjoy Brynna's art as she grows and develops. Most importantly, though, I love the way her face lit up when she walked downstairs and it was completed. I love that she will never doubt how much we believe in her. When I say she is capable and creative she'll need only look as far as that wall for reassurance. She will have a tangible reminder that I love what she does and who she is enough to display it for all to see.

I caught myself staring into the hall all day today. How often do we do that? How often do they bring something home that - let's be honest - we have no idea what it's supposed to be? We look at it, praise them and then as soon as they are distracted, we shove it in a drawer (or worse. Don't feel bad. More than one of BG's masterpieces has met File 13.). But how often do we sit and stare at what they've done? How often do we take a moment of quiet and contemplate that the tiny little being that couldn't hold her head up, can write letters and paint with a paintbrush?

This began as a cute project idea but has become so much more. It is my silent nod of encouragement when Brynna wonders if what she does is good enough. It is my place to watch my baby grow into a big girl. It is more than a wall of art. It is a wall where I can remember and be grateful.