Goodbye Mum

I sold my senior Homecoming mum today, sold it for 50% of the cost of the mum to begin with...so if you don't factor in inflation, that would be a negative 50% return. However, if you consider it literally plastic, paper, and ribbon hot glued together to make something ridiculously noisy that high school girls wear around for one day of their lives, I made a great sale. No, I did not wear mine around school. It's been hanging on a wall in my old bedroom for the last 10 years in pristine condition.

Every fall, I contemplated selling it to make some money and to get rid of it, but every fall, I either forgot or couldn't bring myself to sell it. There was too much sentimentality behind it because it was completely my own handiwork.

My handmade senior mum.

During junior year, my homecoming date was from another school. He and I had agreed not to do the mum and garter stuff with each other. We were going together just to have a date for the dance and to hang out with our friends. Well, being the girly girl I was, (and still am at heart,) I bought my own mum that year from the drill team moms and paid for it with my own money. I also bought some craft things and put together a last minute garter for him anyway even though we said we weren't going to do that. It wasn't my finest handiwork, but you know, for someone who thought he wasn't getting a garter, I think he was pleasantly surprised to have gotten one after all. I'm sure it's long been in the trash for years since that night.

For senior year, my homecoming date was yet again from another school. He and I had again agreed not to do the mum and garter stuff with each other. We were, once again, going together just to have a date for the dance and to hang out with our friends. And once again, being the girly girl I was, I wanted my own mum - because let's face it, the silver and white ones are so much more "elegant" than the maroon and white ones, if you can even call glitter, ribbon, and plastic "elegant."

But, I was going to make my own. Being a year wiser than I was the previous year and more intuitive, I figured out how to assemble all these seemingly useless pieces of craft materials they sell at Hobby Lobby and Michael's into something rather beautiful. My favorite part was the mum base. I creatively designed my own pattern and put it together with some of the more expensive glitter ribbons.

My mum base.

The trickiest part to making beautiful mums which I discovered in my own experience is how to embellish and hide the staples and glue. Everyone can take hot glue and glue a cow bell onto a piece of ribbon, or tie a cow bell onto a string and hang it off the mum. But how many people can DIY hide the charm hole at the top of the cow bell with something beautiful? (Also considering that mums are most often made by boys for girls with high expectations, chances are slim to none that they have any idea how to do this; hence, The Mum Shop in Plano has such lucrative business for only operating 3 months of the year.)

Someone out there will be Class of 2019...how
convenient: I only had to change one sticker.

17-year-old me figured that out, and I had a lot of fun making my own bows and ribbon embellishments to hide the charm holes, staples, and hot glue.

Made my own deluxe loops, and my own
ribbon braid on the right.

Cleverly concealed the top of the bell
beneath a decorative ribbon.

It was still very bittersweet and a bit sad when I handed away my mum to the lady who was picking it up. Granted, I would much rather have the cash than my mum hanging in my room, but I'm still sentimental at heart and I will miss my fine handiwork from 10 years ago. Also I'm pretty sure she will take apart my mum and simply use it for pieces to make another one. But I'm thankful I was able to sell it for cash than simply throw it away in the trash. Perhaps my legacy will live on anonymously through someone else's mum, at least for one year.

Just for kicks and giggles, I went online to The Mum Shop and created a mum order for something comparable to mine (number of charms, number of ribbons, etc.) to see how much it would cost to buy. I paid quite a bit less than what they're charging. Here are the numbers:

In my opinion, mums these days have gotten so large and so flashy that they're gaudy. I think they're actually more beautiful and elegant when they don't weigh 20 pounds and cover the entire girl whom it adorns. But I digress.

I did, however, remember to remove one detail from my mum. Years ago when I was preparing to hang my mum in my room, I needed a large needle or safety pin to hang it up on the pushpin. The only thing I could think of to use was a pearl pin I had kept in my music box. Before selling it and giving it away, I switched out the pearl pin with one of my many safety pins I've amassed from shopping at baby consignments. (I probably could have handed it to her without anything and it would have been fine, but I was trying to make it more marketable.) 

Why such a big fuss over such a small pin? It's the pin from my corsage from my mother's funeral.

In about sixteen years, I'll hopefully be able to pull up this blog post and share with my daughter about my old Homecoming mum and how much fun I had making it and how special it was for me. 

Goodbye, mum. I'll miss you.

Superbowls and Scions

I'm usually not one to care about sports in general, but when someone who graduated with you in your high school class is playing in the NFL in the Superbowl, it makes you care just a little bit more.

We all knew he was destined for greatness. I went to grade school with him through 4th grade. Not only was he smart, but he was athletic. (I was only smart. I think. Ha.) We were in the same homeroom in 3rd grade and I remember wanting to work with him for one group assignment we were completing in class because I knew he was a good student. Our teacher picked four or five of us to stand up, including both of us, and then announced we would be the group leaders. Darn. Bubble burst for my poor nine-year-old self.

His family moved to a different neighborhood after 4th grade so he was transferring schools. At our last 4th grade Top Banana meeting where they pick outstanding students for each week, each teacher named an overall Top Banana for the whole year. If I remember correctly, his homeroom teacher picked him and my homeroom teacher picked me. I could be just making this up, but I'm pretty sure that's what happened. I still have my Top Banana certificates as well as my little yellow banana I decorated during the first week of school with a sticker for each week I was picked throughout the school year. Seriously, this little piece of laminated yellow paper is nearing 13 years old. It's at my dad's house or else I'd have a picture to show you.

My parents also bought a house at the end of my 4th grade year in a different neighborhood. We moved that summer, so I also transferred schools within the district. Unlike him, there was no announcement. I silently disappeared as 5th grade began. For the next four years, we went to different schools, made new friends, and life continued.

In 9th grade, my friend was in his biology class. I don't remember how I found out we were attending the same high school, but somehow, she and I got the guts to approach him one morning in the cafeteria before they dismissed us to our lockers and she "reintroduced" us to each other after a good four years. We talked to each other for a few minutes and then parted ways again. I distinctly remember feeling the awkward glances of his friends around us who were probably thinking, Who is this strange Asian girl and why is she talking to him? That was the last time we spoke to each other.

In 10th grade, we were in the same Spanish class and sat relatively close to each other because of alphabetical seating. He had lots of friends in that class; however, I did not. That was a hard class for me to get through simply because the one person I was somewhat acquainted with in the class sat on the other side of the room. Needless to say, it was a very laborious class for me to enjoy the entire year.

We graduated senior year from the same high school and went off to college. I remember sitting inside Players (which no longer exists!) watching the UT vs Nebraska game to determine which team would make it to the BCS National Championships. Of course I wanted my alma mater to make it to the championships, but it was bittersweet to watch someone I went to school with for many years play on the opposing team.

He's playing in his first Superbowl game on Sunday afternoon at the age of 27. His family was interviewed for the local news channel, and he has his own Wikipedia page, most likely not self-written. When I saw the Patriots were playing in the Superbowl this year, the thought occurred to me that he and I are the same age. He's playing in the Superbowl. And I'm having a baby. And you know why both are equally important and wonderful?

We're living out our dreams.