When your firstborn starts school
Dear Mrs. M,
You don’t know my son yet, but we have been talking about you all summer. He is bursting with excitement as he waits impatiently for the first day of school, and checks daily to make sure his brand-new backpack is still hanging in the hall closet. He talks about what you will teach him, and he has the sweetest smile when he practices raising his hand to answer questions around the dinner table.
You don’t know me yet either, Mrs. M, but I apologize in advance if I seem overly keen and wide-eyed (or anxious and unsure) as I get my footing as an elementary school parent. I just turned 32, but I still sometimes feel like I’m in school myself, masquerading as a grown-up. I will try to keep it together as I delight in signing permission slips and bringing in class snacks and chaperoning field trips.
When I clutch my son’s hand on Thursday morning and see the big yellow bus screech to a halt in front of the sidewalk, I’ll probably be crying. I’ll hug him tightly and take dozens of pictures of that dazzling, excited grin.
I’ll kiss his palms like the mommy raccoon in The Kissing Hand and then release him to walk up those big black stairs — where he’ll sit in a seat without a five-point harness or even a seatbelt. I’ll feel like a part of my body is being carted away on that bus, because it is.
I’ll resist the urge to jump in my minivan and follow the bus all the way to the elementary school, because I know you’ll be waiting on the other end, Mrs. M. I’ll squeeze my eyes shut and take a deep breath, and remind myself that you will be there to lead him to the classroom and watch over him. I’ll walk back home and try to work, but I won’t be able to stop wondering how his day is going.
In between phone calls and deadlines, I’ll picture my sweet boy sitting in your classroom and shyly raising his hand. I’ll hope he’s remembering his manners and that he wipes his mouth with a napkin after lunch. I’ll know that you’re making sure he’s having a fun first day at his big new school, and you’ll be the one to safely lead him back to the bus when the bell rings.
I admit that my stomach will be twisting nervously as I wait for that big yellow bus to bring my first-born baby back. My shoulders will drop in relief as soon as I spot that familiar grin, and I’ll hug him and kiss his hair and ask him a million different questions about his first day. He’ll make me laugh as he starts each answer with “Like …” and “Probably …” which is how he talks when he’s trying to act grown up.
And then, we’ll do it all again the next day.
Mrs. M, I don’t need to tell you that this boy is my merry sunshine and my very favourite little boy on the planet, because you already know that. Every student in your class is somebody’s whole world.
You will be the most important non-family grown-up in their lives — the one who finds the balance between letting them know they are special but also that the world doesn’t revolve around them alone. You will be the teacher that gets our son started on a road that will take 13 years to complete — 23 years if he becomes an orthodontist like I’m recommending.
Thank you in advance for taking good care of my little person, and I’ll try not to be too giddy and/or annoying on Parent Night.
Sincerely yours,
a first-time Primary mom
***
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An open letter to my son’s primary teacher
Dear Mrs. M,
You don’t know my son yet, but we have been talking about you all summer.
He is bursting with excitement as he waits impatiently for the first day of school, and checks daily to make sure his brand-new backpack is still hanging in the hall closet. He talks about what you will teach him, and he has the sweetest smile when he practices raising his hand to answer questions around the dinner table.
You don’t know me yet either, Mrs. M, but I apologize in advance if I seem overly keen and wide-eyed (or anxious and unsure) as I get my footing as an elementary school parent.
I just turned 32, but I still sometimes feel like I’m in school myself, masquerading as a grown-up. I will try to keep it together as I delight in signing permission slips and bringing in class snacks and chaperoning field trips.
When I clutch my son’s hand on Thursday morning and see the big yellow bus screech to a halt in front of the sidewalk, I’ll probably be crying. I’ll hug him tightly and take dozens of pictures of that dazzling, excited grin. I’ll kiss his palms like the mommy raccoon in The Kissing Hand and then release him to walk up those big black stairs — where he’ll sit in a seat without a five-point harness or even a seatbelt.
I’ll feel like a part of my body is being carted away on that bus, because it is.
I’ll resist the urge to jump in my minivan and follow the bus all the way to the elementary school, because I know you’ll be waiting on the other end, Mrs. M. I’ll squeeze my eyes shut and take a deep breath, and remind myself that you will be there to lead him to the classroom and watch over him. I’ll walk back home and try to work, but I won’t be able to stop wondering how his day is going.
In between phone calls and deadlines, I’ll picture my sweet boy sitting in your classroom and shyly raising his hand. I’ll hope he’s remembering his manners and that he wipes his mouth with a napkin after lunch. I’ll know that you’re making sure he’s having a fun first day at his big new school, and you’ll be the one to safely lead him back to the bus when the bell rings.
I admit that my stomach will be twisting nervously as I wait for that big yellow bus to bring my first-born baby back. My shoulders will drop in relief as soon as I spot that familiar grin, and I’ll hug him and kiss his hair and ask him a million different questions about his first day. He’ll make me laugh as he starts each answer with “Like …” and “Probably …” which is how he talks when he’s trying to act grown up.
And then, we’ll do it all again the next day.
Mrs. M, I don’t need to tell you that this boy is my merry sunshine and my very favourite little boy on the planet, because you already know that. Every student in your class is somebody’s whole world.
You will be the most important non-family grown-up in their lives — the one who finds the balance between letting them know they are special but also that the world doesn’t revolve around them alone. You will be the teacher that gets our son started on a road that will take 13 years to complete — 23 years if he becomes an orthodontist like I’m recommending.
Thank you in advance for taking good care of my little person, and I’ll try not to be too giddy and/or annoying on Parent Night.
Sincerely yours,
a first-time Primary mom
Another stab at the flab
New month, new me? Let’s hope.
Today is the first day of another fitness challenge at my beloved Zumba studio. We did one last fall and I actually won it, although I think I only lost 5-6 lbs.
(Two of them have returned, but 3-4 are still off, although it doesn’t feel like much of a victory)
I had a light bulb moment last week while reading Better Than Before. Gretchen Rubin was writing about exercise and said how it’s actually NOT proven to help people lose weight.
Shut. The. Front. Door.
Yes, really. Exercise will NOT help you lose weight.
I sat there and thought about that for a minute. I was so sure that exercise was the key. I mean, yes, I knew eating well was a big part of it. But I thought exercise burned off enough calories to allow indulgences. I mean, isn’t that how this is supposed to work!?
I thought about it logically. OK, I go to Zumba classes three times a week, most weeks — although it’s been 1-2/week this summer because of T-ball practices/games and instructor absences. I’ve been doing this since last July, so for more than a full year. Yet I am only down five-ish pounds from when I started.
It’s at this point that I started to decide there was something to the theory. Exercise is obviously great for your health. I certainly feel much more in shape than I did a year ago. I can race up the stairs and jog across a soccer field and generally zip around without huffing and puffing. I’m stronger.
But it’s not getting me down to my goal weight a.k.a. breastfeeding weight. (Remember breastfeeding? That was literally the best diet ever, and the skinniest I’ve ever been as an adult. *tear*)
So while I love Zumba and will continue to do it three times a week — for physical health but mostly for mental health! — this is me grudgingly admitting that maybe food plays a bigger role than I once thought. That whole “abs are made in the kitchen, not the gym” adage is true, it seems.
Twelve pounds will get me down to my breastfeeding weight. Except this time, of course, I won’t have a baby sucking the calories right out of me (darn it). It’s going to take work, and most of that work is a mind game that involves staying away from potato chips and fast food.
Let’s get it started!
Building a huge L-shaped desk
When you’re buried in surface clutter, sometimes one desk is better than two.
My office used to have a small kidney-shaped desk ($60 from the office supply store) and an art desk in the corner for crafting and sewing. It seemed like the perfect arrangement — keeping my professional life separate from my hobbies — but it never worked out that way.
My tiny work desk was overrun by monitors and office-y junk, and the art desk was constantly heaped with supplies and tools — meaning I would drag my sewing machine upstairs and take over the dining room. What I needed was one, huge, clutter-free workspace where I could do everything.
We bought two sheets of 4’ X 8’ melamine panels (5/8 inches thick) that were on sale for $24.99 each (regular $29.99), six 2’ X 4’ boards ($2.99 each), two strips of white plastic edging ($2.99 each), and a package of general purpose 3” screws ($8.99).
We asked the building supply store to cut the melamine panels 36” wide and 6’ long, and the other 36” wide and just under 3’ long. This meant the entire desk surface was literally done for us — we just had to install it.
We decided how tall the desk should be, and cut the 2’X4’s to be four inches shorter than the length of the desk pieces. Then my husband screwed them into the studs to create the base of the desk. He attached support arms coming out from the walls, screwed a leg to each one, and then screwed in support beams to hold the weight of the desk.
Then it was time to lay the pre-cut melamine panels on top and get a look at the desk! I was smitten, but it wasn’t done yet. He used a flat metal bracket to secure the two panels together underneath the desk, because my sewing machine can make any surface rattle.
To conceal the scratchy edges of the melamine panels, we cut the strips of plastic edging to size, applied a bit of construction-grade adhesive, and pressed them against the edges. We also taped them in place while the adhesive dried. This gave the edges of the desk a nice, smooth finish — making the whole desk feel more like a shiny white countertop than a few cheap boards.
To keep the monitors from taking over my new desk, we bought an unfinished MDF shelf ($5.99) and three white metal brackets ($2.99 each). We used leftover white paint to pretty up the shelf, drilled a 2” round hole for monitor cords, and then attached it to the wall with the brackets. It’s now the perfect spot for my two monitors, speakers, and printer — and I can stick my keyboard and mouse up there when the workday’s over, giving me more room to sew.
I eliminated one of my bookcases as part of this makeover, so I needed a spot to hold my tools of the (crafty) trade — scissors, rulers, cutting blades, etc. I’ve kind of dreamed of having a pegboard ever since reading “Berenstain Bears and the Messy Room,” so I bought an unfinished 4’ X 2’ pegboard for $4.99 and a package of 32 assorted hooks ($3.49).
After a quick coat of white paint, we screwed two scrap pieces of wood into the studs — one at the top, one at the bottom — and then screwed the pegboard into the scrap wood. I arranged everything neatly on hooks, and had my handy husband drill holes in some of my plastic containers so I could hang them with strips of wire. It’s been one of those life-changing projects, truly, because I’m no longer losing my gridded ruler (and cursing) every five minutes during a sewing project.
For about $110, we drastically transformed the functionality of my little home office — and for another $80 on fresh wall paint and accessories (like the $30 gallery wall I showed you last week), we had a brand-new look, too.
Easily the best $200 I’ve ever spent on decor and DIY, because this is now a space where I feel inspired, energized, and — most of all — ready to tackle more creative pursuits here at My Homemade Home!
DIY produce stand
It all started with potatoes — and having no place to put them.
We usually ended up sticking them in the cereal cabinet and the bag would fall behind the boxes and we’d end up with musty spuds growing sprouts. Ew.
So when I saw a great-looking produce stand online (OverTheBigMoon.com), I knew it was something we needed for the kitchen. A place for potatoes! Could it really be so simple? Maybe we could get the bananas off the counter, too.
Are you lacking cupboard space and need a new home for fruits and veggies?
Here’s what you need to make your very own produce stand:
- Two (2) 1 x 6 boards (10 ft. long) for the boxes
- One (1) 1 x 4 board (8 ft. long) for the sides
- Two (2) 10” pieces of a 2 x 4 for the base supports
The first step is to make your cuts …
- Cut your 1×6 boards into nine 18” pieces (the back, front and base of your boxes) and six 7” pieces (the ends of your boxes).
- Cut two 32” sections from your 1×4 board (you’ll have some wood leftover) to form the sides. Then cut the tops at angle (about 30 degrees) so your boxes will tilt slightly to display their contents.
- Take your two 10” pieces of 2×4 and cut a 45-degree angle off each end to make pretty base supports.
Once you’ve made your cuts, it’s time to assemble it!
Start by building your three boxes. Remember, each box has an 18” inch piece as the back, front and bottom — and the little 7” pieces made the ends. We pre-drilled the holes so the wood didn’t split, and then hammered in 2” nails.
When you have three perfect wooden boxes, you’ll probably get really excited about future projects that could involve boxes. I mean, storage is always important, right? And they’re so sturdy!
Once I calmed down about the boxes, it was time to attach the sides to the base supports. Make sure you screw or nail the sides to the bases so that the angles are facing the right direction, because the very top box needs to line up with that angle.
When you have your “legs,” grab one of the boxes and hold it, slightly tilted, so it matches up with the top of the angled side. Your box will be pitching forward slightly. Pre-drill your holes and screw or nail it in place, and then repeat on the other side. It will look like you have a strange sort of mailbox with two legs.
Align your final two boxes by comparing the angle to the first box — eyeballing it is fine — and then secure them to the sides. You can hang them at any height, really, but we aimed to space ours equally.
Take a minute to admire your stand, and then decide on a plan of action. Are you going to seal it and leave the wood natural? Stain it? Paint it?
I was tempted to stain ours, but we already have a lot of wood happening on that level. So I painted it with leftover greyish-blue wall paint (CIL’s “Bear Run”) that we used on most of our main level, since I knew I wanted to put the produce stand against a greige wall.
The morning after that single coat of blue, I roughed up the edges of the stand with a bit of sandpaper, wiped off the dust, and moved it into place. I loved it instantly. It kind of felt like a mini grocery store.
Our potatoes aren’t going to turn into science experiments in the cereal cupboard, and the bananas are no longer shoved between the coffee machine and the KitchenAid. Who knows, the kids might eat more apples now that they’re pre-washed and displayed at their level?
I wonder what else can go in there. Hmmm, I think I need to Google “What produce doesn’t need to be in the refrigerator?”
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Heather's Handmade Life 