Martha Doesn't Live Here - Anymore...

This Thanksgiving, the phrase "Martha doesn't live here anymore" was muttered out of my mouth more than once. Typically when Thanksgiving is at my house, I cook my little heart out before & on the big day and everything is in tip-top order: grocery bags hold all of the ingredients for a single dish and that recipe is clipped to the bag so it is easy to grab, assemble and bake; the table is set a few days in advance and immaculately decorated; all of the china serving pieces we could possibly need are setting out & have been rinsed off; the guest rooms are clean and cleared of any piles or projects so that the guests have plenty of space to spread out their belongings; guest towels are sitting out with extra toiletries in case they forgot something, etc...

This year, my poor guests {mom, dad, aunt, uncle} had to make their own beds because I just never got around to getting the sheets put on. This year, they were practically drip-drying because extra towels weren't out nor readily available. This year, my guests had to tip-toe around my excessive piles and messes in both guest rooms. This year, my guests had to set the table. This year, I only made one dish for the Thanksgiving meal. This year some of the food was served in {gasp!} tupperware. You get the picture...

That is how my life has been since Roman has arrived, but I wouldn't have it any other way. Our entire house has been turned upside down and has been locked down like Fort Knox. There is an unattractive yellow clamp holding our fridge shut because no other child-safety gadgets will do the trick. There are unsightly white cabinet locks on everything {although Roman knows how to get them off}. There are door knob covers on most doors and they've been duck-taped on because Roman figured out how to crack them "just right" in the middle so that they fall off. There is ZERO decor on the coffee and end tables. There is a huge plastic Little Tykes kitchen in the middle of my living room and a red plastic motorcycle in my kitchen. There is a big red Robitussin stain on the bathroom carpet where someone decided to overturn his medicine. There are too many wall, cabinet and appliance dents, scratches and scuffs to mention.... and that is just the house. Don't get me started on the lack of scrapbooking, cardmaking, crafting, cooking, baking, decorating... that has all come to an abrupt halt.

I'm telling you all of this to paint a picture of my life then and now. So imagine the "old me" with my hands on a gingerbread house kit. First of all... it wouldn't have been a "kit". The gingerbread would have been prepared from scratch, rolled, cut & baked. Two consistencies of icing would have been made: a sticky version to "glue" the house together, and a creamy version to spread as "snow" on the roof. I probably would have driven to several stores and spent well over $50 in candies to perfect the gingerbread village, {because undoubtedly I wouldn't have stopped at just a house.} Then when all was said and done, the village would have been shellacked because how dare anyone eat such a masterpiece!

So we received a gingerbread house kit in the mail from my aunt & uncle for Christmas. They told me it was coming, so I opened it and set it aside for a fun afternoon with Roman. Last weekend, my sister Rachel and her 3 kiddos were going to come up to visit and I asked her if she received a kit, too, and since they did I said "wouldn't it be so fun to make them together?" Fun indeed! The second the cardboard boxes were ripped open, we had 4 children screaming for candy {so I guess its no shock to you that half of the candy was gone by the time we were ready to decorate.} Both sections of my roof broke, so first I had to "glue" them back together with icing. I did, but I didn't give it enough time to dry and the whole house caved in on itself. Then our little gingerbread plaque to personalize the house fell off and left a big red icing blob on the second floor, looking like a gruesome crime scene. Then when it was finally ready to decorate, it went like this: Roman ate a handful of candy and then put 1 piece on the house, ate a handful, put 1 piece on the house. At one point I looked at the house and there was a chewed-up skittle on it. He must've not liked the flavor and spit it out and still decorated with it. Brett was haphazardly decorating their house, too, however Davis took the project very seriously. He was getting a little snippy with Brett and Roman for not following the suggested design on the front of the box. Where was Libby you ask? She had zero interest in the project but at any given time had her cheeks full with candy and multi-colored saliva drooling out of her mouth. Rachel and I usually have such control issues over arts & crafts so it was humorous to watch each other try and sit back and let the kids "do their own thing". Don't get me wrong... the gingerbread houses were an absolute HIT with the kids. I think we'll have to do this every year as a new tradition!

{chewed up skittle!}

Our Shutterly site {look to the right} has been updated with pix from our gingerbread afternoon. Be sure to read the captions!