Gobble Gobble Turkey craft

A little late, but as my perpetually tardy family always says, "better late than never." We never send birthday cards on time. Its a miracle every year if all the gifts are under the tree by Christmas Eve.

We made a turkey craft this year with my little preschoolers. It looks like it would be INCREDIBLY messy, but because my co-teacher and I controlled the paint brushes, it was actually surprisingly neat. We put the cut up construction paper on their table and let them decorate the border as they wished.  They then took turns coming to us to have their hands painted.  We pressed their little hand onto their paper plate. They then took the beak, legs and feet and glued them on themselves. I think their little turkey's turned out almost as adorable as the kids themselves, not quite though.

Thanksgiving craft

 The week of Thanksgiving, I taught my lil ones Thanksgiving vocabulary.  It was difficult explaining what a wishbone was to kids who had never seen or eaten a turkey.  But they didn't seem to mind.  Fridays is either field trip day OR craft day.  And because there were no fieldtrips planned, we did two weeks of Thanksgiving crafts.  The first one, was the cutest, I think.  It was a Turkey headdress. I found the idea here. 
The website is pretty specific about what colors you use for the feathers, but I thought it would be more fun if they picked their own colors.  They turned out really well, in my humble biased opinion.  What do you think? I didn't take pictures of the second one.  They made hand turkey Thanksgiving cards.  I have to say tho, I love arts and crafts with the kiddos.  It brings out my creative side. 

Class picture

The Girl Effect

  This Thanksgiving, I have so much to be thankful for.  In preschool, everyday, we have something that is called circle time.  In my opinion, it is probably the most important aspect of the day, as it is when we practice vocabulary, questions and answers.  This week, I have chosen the topic of Thanksgiving despite the fact that this is once again uniquely a North American thing. (Canadians have their Thanksgiving in October) The question of the week, therefore is, "What are you thankful for?"  The children give a myriad of answers ranging from dolls, moms, sisters, TV to individual friends in the class.  I sometimes get a shout out of appreciation as well.  But it has made me reflect quite a bit on what am I thankful for in my life , as I have had to answer this question twice everyday this week.  I have come to realize  that people as blessed as we are, as Americans are, as the industrialized world is, that we don't really appreciate the gifts we have until they have been taken away.  It's difficult to express my gratitude, as just about every aspect of my life is a blessing.

 I am thankful for my parents (and rest of my family for that matter) who have always, and I mean always supported me.  The basic purpose of a parent is to make sure their child survives, lives to adulthood.  To many parents, this can mean different things, this can mean providing financially, it can be in the form of food in the gullet and a roof overhead.  If my parents had provided nothing more than this, they would have been doing their required duty, but they didn't stop there.  They loved me.  They loved me unconditionally even when I threw screaming impassioned temper-tantrums (and you better believe that someone as dramatic as I am could throw a proper temper-tantrum), even when I barked like a dog as a two year old in a restaurant and embarrassed them beyond measure, and even when I made decisions they disapproved of, they loved me for being me, for just being their daughter.  And I haven't just had the support of my parents but my amazingly supportive family, and friends who I consider as important as family.  When I first suggested living abroad, my family didn't say, "no, that isn't possible." Instead they said, "When can we come visit you?" But I haven't just been emotionally blessed beyond measure, but in every other aspect of my life as well.  I have never gone without food.  I have never slept outside unless it was intentional.  I have had electricity and running water for almost every single moment of my life.  But you know what hadn't occurred to me to be thankful for until just a few days ago with thanks to the attention-deprived action of our insane neighbor, was peace.  Although our country has been technically "at war" for almost ten years, I have never seen war. I have never lost someone to a landmine or a car bomb.   I have never been afraid for my life.  I have never not known peace.  I have never felt hopeless about my future because as an American we are told that dreams are possible.  Now we can debate over the veracity of the latter statement, but the truth is that being American automatically puts us strides ahead of other human beings in other parts of the world.  We are born with possibilities beyond what so many in this world are able to achieve.  But a future of love and laughter is available to us with commitment.  If we only lasso our future with sheer strength and determination and refuse to let go anything is really possible for us.  I could go on and on about my many blessings, but what I want to talk about at this moment are those who on this Thanksgiving day are hungry or ailing.  Those individuals, in parts of the world, who are born into cyclical poverty and see no outreaching hand to pull them out.  Those who don't have the possibility of education.  Those who don't have hope, don't even understand the concept of the word as it has never applied to their lives. Without possibility these people, whom are our brothers and sisters of the Earth live a life I can't even begin to pretend to fathom.
My aunt recently introduced me to nonprofit  called "The Girl Effect."   This nonprofit is throwing its support behind girls.  They believe that if they can help girls in poverty become educated, they can break the cycle for the next generation. The video below is their campaign.  I urge you to watch it and when you are going around the table numbering off your many blessings in front of the turkey feast, you can consider ways to help these girls better their lives and communities to become as blessed as we are.
 Click here to see on Youtube

Why so much support for the female and not the male?  An unconnected non-profit group, called the Hunger Project, who gives women microloans explains much better than I ever could.

Women bear almost all responsibility for meeting basic needs of the family, yet are systematically denied the resources, information and freedom of action they need to fulfill this responsibility.
The vast majority of the world's poor are women. Two-thirds of the world's illiterates are female. Of the millions of school age children not in school, the majority are girls. And today, HIV/AIDS is rapidly becoming a woman's disease. In several southern African countries, more than three-quarters of all young people living with HIV are women.
The current world food price crisis is having a severe impact on women. Around the world, millions of people eat two or three times a day, but a significant percentage of women eat only once. And, now, many women are denying themselves even that one meal to ensure that their children are fed. These women are already suffering the effects of even more severe malnutrition, which inevitably will be their children's fate as well. The impact of this crisis will be with us for many years.
Studies show that when women are supported and empowered, all of society benefits. Their families are healthier, more children go to school, agricultural productivity improves and incomes increase. In short, communities become more resilient.

Happy Thanksgiving Everyone!!  We can't wait to see you for CHRISTMAS!!!

I married a five year old

An orange foreign object wizzes overhead, dangerously close to hitting me. I look around for the source of the dart and sigh. My husband is standing in the door way like an assailant ready for battle. His weapon, he grasps in his grimy hands and although its length is foreboding, at least two feet long, it is made of orange and blue plastic. His ammunition, orange nerf bullets. That's right, my twenty-five year old HUSBAND has a nerf gun, and if he likes you expect to be shot!

How did Kyle obtain a nerf gun you may ask? Was it an antique from our childhood? Sadly, the answer is no. He bought it recently as a early Christmas gift for himself.

Swiggle swiggle swiggle (enter the sounds of chimes as we travel to the past)

Walking through Walmart looking for a vacuum band for my grandmother's vacuum cleaner, I turn around and see no one standing near me. I inhale deeply grasping that I have lost my husband. His disappearance can only mean one thing; he has found the toy department. I cross my arms as he sheepishly runs towards me, smiling like a puppy who has just peed on the carpet but is acting overly sweet to mask the smell. Under his arm, is a box half my size.
"Please??!!" he pleads looking up at me in that adorable way he knows I can't say no to. But I am stronger than he has anticipated.
"Are we five now? Kyle, if you want that, ask for it for Christmas! We came to buy something for a vacuum cleaner, not a toy" I say determinedly crossing my arms to punctuate the point.
"But this is an awesome deal. I have been looking for these online, and this is $15 cheaper than any other I have found. Plus it has an extra barrel for when you run out of nerfs, so you don't have to stop and reload. Come on Vanessa. It will be an early Christmas present. You aren't going to find another deal like this!" he says as he walks towards the front of the store, grasping the box tightly, afraid I might tear it from his bear like grip.

What was I to say? I am weak and give in to so many of his whims. It must have been so difficult to say no to him as a child. His pleading smile is well practiced at melting the most ferocious heart to an icy puddle which can only respond with "yes."

As we were walking to the front, we saw a boy who couldn't have been older than seven carrying the same gun, mirroring the excitement worn on Kyle's face. Oh the irony.

After the first attack, it was determined (by my mom) that someone else must have a weapon to fight off the onslaught of orange nerf bullets effectively.

The first battle was between my mom and Kyle. When it ended, nerfs covered every inch of the house. I, however, will never erase the image of my mom carrying the blue and orange gun on the prowl to attack her son in law. Way to go MOM!

The next battle, was between my aunt Nancy and Kyle. This, however, was not a fair match, as Kyle has the skills of a lion stalking it's prey. He is as quiet as a slithering snake and as quick and accurate as a Cherokee warrior. Nancy on the other hand, laughed the entire time, giving away her position, and her shot... well, let's just say, she needs practice.

There were a few other battles in between, but the most epic of them all occured Thanksgiving day. Unbeknownst to me, Kyle had already purchased several nerf guns before my arrival back in the states. When I asked why he needed another one, his response was, "I wanted a better one." Arrggg... boys! Two others plus a blow gun emerged from the wreckage which is our garage. Thanksgiving day, we spent with my BFF's (Leslie's) family who we consider to be our family. The fight began originally between Leslie's cousin Bella and Kyle. (Do you see the pattern, they all start with Kyle, the pacifist.) Kyle's excuse for the beginnings of the war was that he only wanted to entertain Bella, who was eight and exhibiting boredom signs: it had nothing to do with his own five-year old attention span. Leslie's sister and friend entered the fight as well as Leslie and Leslie's husband. The war raged for over an hour upstairs, and down, behind the couch and between the banisters. In ever corner lay either a gun man or a collector (of nerfs for reloading). It was the war of wars , culminating in a battle between the sexes in which the better sex won. I don't need to explain which that is. It was one of the best Thanksgiving events of my lifetime and in my snow-globe of memories, that is one I will cradle carefully. Thank goodness for my five year old husband!

We exhausted QT with the battle. He looked on condescendingly!