Merry Christmas and a Happy New School Room!

{After taking the pictures and writing a draft, I hung our basement Christmas tree- a tapestry from Ikea. Andrew mounted a copper pipe across the ceiling that I leave up year-round, slipping my *ahem, glow in the dark* curtain tree on at Christmas time.}

{Old school photos we picked up at an antique store in Maine last spring}

Every year in August I have a mild panic attack because I'm sure I'm going to home school again this year, but look at the school room! Through the summers it's neglected yet severely lived in, know what I mean? There are times throughout the school year (or every week..) that I question our decision to teach the kids at home. It's this strange feeling of trying to discern guidance vs. control. Do I home school because I want to be the primary influence on my children while they're young and impressionable, or am I doing it because I want to be in control? I think it's a combination of both, though I hope that when the time comes for me to send them out I can do it knowing they're ready because of what they learned at home. I want to prepare them, not so much protect them. I don't know if that makes sense. I didn't think this post would turn into a crisis of belief... I'd love to converse more about the school decision, but let's turn our attention back to the actual room. I think part of my struggle every year is the make-shift designated area. Like so much of our house, our basement has gone through multiple transformations. But none exemplified the word transform like the new school room. It's still not completely completely done, but so close and so functional and I can't help sharing!

The center island is for crafting and game night  and folding laundry while the kids teach themselves at the desk. So much use out of this little work mule! Including corralling wrapping paper. Glory be. As someone who struggles with organization, wrapping paper has been the bane of my existence. No more, wrapping paper fiend. I won the war. About the counter top--I've always loved soap stone, but haven't had a place for it until now. It's beautiful and smells like genuine dirt when washed. Mmm.

I bought these metal file drawers off Craigslist last year as a set of 4 that can hook together. I had three of them stacked (on top of each other and under a pile of books and papers). When we were designing this space I really wanted to bring the old drawers back so Andrew built them in. I love the original green metal so much..I should label the drawers, but don't want to ruin their simplicity.

Okay, do you want to talk about the stools or the tile? Or the Constitution hanging on that back wall? Kidding! I'll tell you the completely unexciting story about the chairs in a minute. Those tile floors that are drawing the hallelujah from your lips? Home. Depot. I'm telling you, they're just ceramic-made-to-look-like-cement tiles. Andrew installed them and I watched.

I honestly can't remember where the pendant above the island came from. I've had it for years..it's old just like me. And the ceiling. Andrew has white painted planks that will be sort of ship lap ish, but wider. I asked him to take a break from this room so I could use it for a little bit before he overtook it with sawdust and sawhorses.

If this isn't just the worst iPhotography...I don't really have time to hone my skillz. Forgive. Let's pretend it's brilliantly clear. That counter top? Menards. I'm not even kidding you. It was just raw maple butcher block that we used as a desk before, the kids challenged its ability to absorb..everything. Marker, paint, lipstick, glue, play dough. Poor Andrew couldn't take it anymore. He sanded the evidence out of it and stained it. Now- that giant sconce has a small story behind it. Andrew had borrowed (all the while thinking he had been given) an exhaust fan for his spray booth at work- for those who don't know, mister mister is a cabinet maker. The gentleman who loaned (not gave) the fan wanted it back. Well Andrew dear had built that puppy right into his Osha approved spray booth. It was not to be extracted. Alas, a combing of online auctions commenced, where he found a new fan for the old friend and what do you know he got a big old light covered in ages of finish thrown in. We've been hoarding it (along with so much other GARBAGE) in our garage in case we could use it someday. Write it down, take a picture- it was worth keeping.

This blessed bank of cabinets were the two original upper cabinets in our house's kitchen when we bought it. They were the color of pea soup, but not in a bad way. More like in a Kermit the frog kind of way..endearing. But recently I've come to understand myself more- I appreciates small doses of big color, not an entire wall's worth of cabinets indirectly featuring the Muppets. They were already in the basement, but not used very efficiently. Now my fabric is neatly folded and stacked, craft supplies are controlled, and my sewing machine is on a roll-out behind those doors so I can pull up a chair and pretend to sew. Um, that globe on the curved acrylic frame? Garage sale. For real. That chicken feed box? Straight from our broken down coop. I would like to fill it with plastic succulents. And I want to do silhouettes of my kids (like that sweet one of Oliver in 1st grade that I pinned up between the chalk boards) for above the feed box.

And these stools. Craigslist, I think they're old lab stools? Heavy duty and industrial and already broken in, so our job is done.

Christmas time was here...

...magic filled the air.

My photo journalism skills are pretty raw.  Organic, if you will.  Grainy like a loaf of bread from Whole Foods.

Oliver has commandeered my camera, taking pictures of calendars, Legos, close-ups of Winnie, his own missing teeth.  Document-worthy subject matter.  Between that fact and my natural spontaneity, I turn to my iPhone 4, and receive a nomination for worst picture of the year. 

Being hardly a queen of the kitchen (though Andrew is King of the Kitchen.  Hmmm..I guess he married a peasant), my time spent preparing meals/treats is usually flustered, so including the kids in Christmas baking is an act of love.  Cut-outs went pretty good this year though.  The cookies went good.  With milk, coffee, morning snack, afternoon tea.

Celebrating on Christmas Eve at Nana and Papa's.

Here's where it gets sad.  My house has never been as pretty at Christmas as it was this year...and this is all I have to show for it.  Next year you're all invited over and we'll skip the pictures.  Clearly not the best quality (or not so clearly, to be more technical).

The prettiest tree in the history of our little family.  (Kindly ignore the finger coverage in the upper left corner...)

These two.  Simpatico.

I hope your Christmas was filled with joy and wonder at the birth of Christ.  I regret that our Advent season felt slightly rushed and out of focus.  I had more time to reflect on Jesus' birth post-holiday than before/during.  Although we probably had things about right if you compared our activity/frame of mind to that of the city of Bethlehem during the census- hurried, frustrated, full, distracted- there wasn't a lot of stillness.  We've resolved to make Christmas 2015 more peaceful and Christ-filled.  Along with the rest of this new year.  

Shoot, photo shoot

Update concerning the post about Margot: the very day I roasted her, she became the first of my children to call a sibling a 'butt'.  "Geogie (no R) is a butt."  I disagree.  

My dear mother got a new camera, and my family had the honor of helping her get to know its ins and outs during a Christmas tree hunt.  The land around us still belongs to the man we bought our farm from, and every year he so graciously lets us cut an evergreen from his collection 'as long as we don't tell anyone.'  So now you can't tell anyone, either.

Found it!

First year chopper.

This series of Georgianna- ears folded down under mom's large hat (hey, it went with the color scheme), eyes closed with conviction over the spirit-led song she's making up and belting out, inspired by the wonderment of it all- makes me want to freeze her at age 4 forever.

Still singing...

"Look at that, a giant cat..."

"Oh dear Creampuff, I love ya."

This makes me think of Chevy Chase and his epic tree.

(this makes me think of Chevy too...)
Every year we pass this old station wagon on our way out to the tree plot.  Inside it's filled with weeds and moss and glass and springs and rust and tetanus.  But what are we if not brave?  For the sake of our Christmas card, we gathered our courage and prayed that our winter gear would transform into Kevlar for just as long as it took to get a spectacular picture (but we had limited time, so this is as good as it got).

Merry Christmas from the Toftnesses, a month late but keeping the spirit alive!

O Tannenbaum

Andrew and the kids put up and decorated the Christmas tree while I supervised from the couch.  Ask Andrew if he appreciated the input concerning the exact placement of the lights.  Actually, maybe don't ask him...

While dad strung the lights, the kids watched White Christmas, and were of course mesmerized by the tap dancing.  

The annual untangling.

Eager trimmers.

G with her glitter pickle ornament.

Here the tree is still only wearing a fraction of its Christmas outfit.

I waited until the next day to take a picture of the completed holiday wonderment- and wow...all the pictures of the tree solo were blurry.  Then the kids wanted to jump in, so I thought what the heck?  Exactly.  What.  The.  Heck.

A Trimmed (to the brim) Tree

Before I reveal the fully decked Christmas tree, allow me to make a few disclaimers: yes, there's a snowflake tree-topper on our tree.  I (we) love Jesus and love His birthday, so I'm not trying to make a heathen statement by not having a star or an angel, since both symbols guided Savior-seekers to their newborn King.  After searching for a show stopping topper for most of our married lives (and living with an awful one that we had *in ignorance* registered for before getting married), I found this glittered snowflake at a garage sale last summer.  It's not acutely offensive (unlike our old star+snowman combo), and for now that's enough.

Next: the door has no trim, it's true.

Next: the popcorn garland.  I realize it looks like I should have one more string across the bottom, but alas, two little chipmunks live in this house- aka G and M- and we must keep the edibles up high. 

And finally: while the tree appears to be crooked...never fear!  It's tied to the doorknob.  We have had Christmas tree fatalities (the tree and ornaments, no humans), in Christmases past, so anything to avoid another calamity is key. 

And now, without further adieu...

How lovely are your...

Branches!  Something our newly chopped tree has, unlike many Charlie Brown loved Christmas trees from our past.  This afternoon the whole family hiked out to our neighbor's little tree polluted plot and picked a spruce Santa would be jealous of.  Oliver played a pretty big role in sawing it down, and afterward he said, "Mom, can you believe I could cut down our tree?  It made me feel so big."  Adorbs, bud.  After our adventurous tromp through the woods, Andrew's parents (our new neighbors), had a bonfire and hot cocoa waiting for us. So great.

We had a wonderfully crazy weekend with Thanksgiving celebrations, so 'relaxation' was the word of the day.  And since snow has been falling all day, reading the Christmas story and watching the Santa Claus and listening to Christmas music on Pandora are (besides retrieving the tree), the most productive things the Toftnesses have done today. Among the unproductive things I would list taking all Christmas decor out of boxes, but just leaving it strewn across the basement.  Hopefully the new tree and fresh air will be inspirational...

Away we go!

In the thick of it.

Margot got a taste of spruce during the cutting...

Champ.

Our favorite feline, Cream Puff, followed us all the way- climbing trees, being held, jumping in the snow.

And so begins the Christmas time festivities.  Keeping Christ the center of Christmas is our goal each year- we're praying that He would make Himself more real to us this season than He has ever been.  May He do the same for you.  Merry Christmas, friends!