Skip to main content

Roman Holiday

Last year we had our first ever "Back to School Feast." The idea came from this post by Nie over at NieNie Dialogues. Our theme last year, which I did take pictures of but did not come out (that's another story), included a table loaded down with 'treasure' (fake jewels and necklaces from Party City and Josh's treasure box), fancy china bowls and candy dishes filled up with mini fruits and other sweets, fresh baked rolls, a roast (because Josh had to be castle appropriate), drinks from Grandma Annie's red glasses (typically set aside for Christmas but the most gobletish cups I had at the time), plastic crowns, fancy gold place mats, napkins and napkin rings (purchased on clearance) and gold paper plates.

This year we are repeating the tradition but with a Roman theme. Why Roman? Josh is currently obsessed with all things Mythology (and he hasn't even read the Percy Jackson books despite my encouragement) and has spent basically the whole summer with his nose buried in a Mythology book. He can spew facts on demand. Or even when you don't demand and would really like him to just-please-talk-about-something-else-for-the-love!

Anyhow, we are combining the Back to School Feast with a joint birthday party for Josh and Carly. And while I haven't figured out just how I'm going to produce a Coliseum cake (read won't produce), I did indulge in a little labor of love this afternoon for my two offspring and their assorted family who will hopefully be able to attend: laurel crowns.

Now, my search of crafts on the interweb were pretty much fruitless. The best directions I could find for making a laurel crown were sans pictures or consisted of a construction paper band with large leaves stapled on. So, hoping to spare you from your own disappointment when you decide to throw your own Roman themed party {snicker}, here are my instructions for crepe paper laurel crowns WITH pictures.











It was about $5 for all my supplies, including paper for party invitations. (I'll show you those later, they aren't done) and I have lots of crepe paper left. I'm sure someone more resourceful would turn that into a crazy cool craft, but I'm just going to throw it in the craft closet. Keeping this craft cheap frugal was important to me since I know that the little darlings will all destroy their laurel crowns within an hour of their coronations.

All told, it took me longer to edit and upload the pictures than to make the laurel crowns...about 45 minutes to make 15.

Comments

Pam said…
What a great idea! I am going to borrow it, so thanks for sharing. I miss ya, especially this week when I was thinking about calling "our" ladies we visit teach to make appointments. :( Love ya lots
Sarah said…
I miss you too, it was so great to talk to you the other day. I've never had such an easy friendship with someone and I doubt I'll ever find it again!
Jamie Lyn said…
THOSE ARE WAY CUTE!!!!!

Popular posts from this blog

Dear Carly,

I assume that one day you will come to me wanting to know who you are, where you came from, where your other family is and why they gave you to us.  I offer you little bits of information already, but certainly not crumbs enough to satisfy the appetite.  Perhaps it won't matter to you.  I am assuming a lot, already, about how adoption will impact your life.

People often wonder why adoptive parents are hurt when their children seek out biological roots.  I have the answer, and it's very simple.  Adoption - at its core - makes us question the legality, authority, voracity, and validity of parenthood.  For most adoptive parents, first you must come to terms with an issue that strikes at the foundations of mortality: fertility.  From birth, most of us are driven to form families.  First we are nestlings, nurtured and weened and eventually taught to fly.  Then we are nest-builders, filling our lives with the stuff necessary to drive life forward.  Knowledge, safety, money, a sturdy …

On being away from home and turning sixteen: a letter to my son

Dear Josh,

I missed your sixteenth birthday.  I'm sure you recall - or maybe it wasn't so bad because you spent the whole day with your friend watching movies.  Godzilla and Guardians of the Galaxy, you've said.  It's no surprise to me that Godzilla was your favorite of the two.  That atomic green monster holds a special place in your heart.

It was very difficult for me to be away from you when you crossed this threshold in your life.  I remember turning sixteen, being sixteen, and wondering when I would feel like I was actually sixteen.  When I was sixteen, I went and found my first job, I started driving myself around, and I pretty much felt like I was in the wrong skin.  I'm only now, at 37, beginning to feel in the right skin.  Or at least comfortable with the skin I'm in.  But you - well, you don't seem to have a problem being you.  I can't explain how very happy that makes me feel, how very reassured.  Because it can be really hard not to like you…

Dear Carly (on your 9th birthday),

I can't remember what it is like to turn nine years old.  From watching you turn nine, it must have been difficult because it seems like everything is either really, really greator really, really bad.  Some days I think I might get whiplash from the mood swings (and you're not a teenager yet!).   But overall, I think nine must also be really wonderful.  You seem to be full of joy, even moments after being full of woe.  It's as if the joy just pushes the other stuff out.  It practically oozes from your pores.  More than that, on the days you choose to be happy, the whole world sings with you.  People are infected by it, drawn in to your sweet smile and shining eyes.  Attracted like bugs to a light.  You shine, dear little diva, so brightly sometimes it's blinding.

We just spent three weeks together in California, and I must have complained too much about your behavior because your dad believes we are oil and water right now.  I'd prefer to see us as oil and vinegar …