Baking Cookies for Christmas

Two days before Christmas, we baked cookies that will be our dessert on Christmas day. I had wanted to try an interesting iced pumpkin cookie recipe, but apparently the children remembered making gingerbread men last year when I had forgotten and those are what Christmas cookies are.

So, to satisfy my plan to make something with pumpkin, I tried a double batch of Pumpkin Spice Bread. I made it more healthy by reducing sugar by one-third, replacing the oil with homemade apple sauce from last fall's apple-picking, and replacing the white flour with white wheat flour. Indeed, instead of tasting like gooey, sweet breakfast bread (read: like cake), it tastes, as I like to say, "like health." But my kids loved it, surprisingly, so all is well in the world. I froze three loaves.

At one point, Mary was dangerous with the hot stove, so she lost her "hot stove privileges" for a minute, which just means she had to step away from the stove. But she disappeared into the den and wept quietly in the corner, where I discovered her, and realized just how hurt she was by being excluded oh-so-momentarily from the Christmas baking. Broke this mama's heart! Doesn't mean I'd change my teaching moment, but it sure was sad--and she did nothing dangerous around the heat after that!

An unstaged photo of Mary sulking and boycotting the licking of one of the beaters covered in frosting for some capricious reason I forget. She stuck to her guns and never did eat the frosting.

I was trying to frost the cookies on one side of the counter while the children decorated on the other side of the counter until John dumped out most of a jar of green sprinkles and then Mary dumped out most of a jar of pink sprinkles. Then I called a moratorium on decorating until I was done frosting and could join them on their side of the counter to assist.

Margaret is teething and has not been willingly set down much in the last week. Tears and drool abound around here.

They're not sophisticated, but they have a childish charm and sure do taste good!

All these pictures remind me of a discussion point I helped lead at our La Leche League meeting just two days ago, which I will share for any blog readers who might benefit from the encouragement. We were brainstorming about stress around Christmas for mamas and what we can do to reduce it. There are times when mommies have to cut back, even radically. If that means not getting a tree this year, then don't get a tree: it's just a German tradition anyway. Maybe buy fewer gifts and send electronic cards instead of paper ones. Shop online and don't set foot in a store. Buy cookies instead of baking, or bake fewer, or bake none! I've had two holiday babies and I've now had plenty of Thanksgiving and Christmas meals (more than those two years) for which Chris bought all our food at the deli instead of my cooking it. It just so happens that this year, my kids are old enough, my baby is just barely old enough and manageable, that I can do a lot this Christmas season. But every holiday needs to be revisited and basic family needs (including mama's sanity) come first before trying to look like a Norman Rockwell painting.

Update: A sprained neck isn't nothing, although I'm glad I can rest easy knowing because of the x ray that John did not break or fracture anything. He is walking around with a stiff neck, turning his whole body to look at things. He's in pain and actively asking for his ibuprofen (when normally he does everything he can to avoid taking medicine). He asked to play outside and I said 'yes,' but then thought to add, "But you can't climb trees because of your neck. And you can't go on the swings . . . or climb the jungle gym. Ummmm . . . I guess you can walk around and look at things." But, really, he doesn't even need the warnings because he's in enough pain that he's self-regulating his behavior, even letting Daddy know if he's tickling John too hard and it hurts his neck. It's really sad and pathetic. So, this mama isn't done worrying yet.

Bonus Moment: I was reading a story book to Mary, a book about a cat, a story that had nothing to do with climbing anything. As she looked at one picture of the cat riding inside of a large four-wheel drive vehicle, Mary said thoughtfully, "I think I could climb on top of that car." Yes, dear, I think you could climb just about anything you set your mind to.