"family"

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Snowy Walk in the Forest

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We have a rule in this house, totally self-inflicted, that our kids are only allowed one class/activity at a time. It stems, primarily, from our own inherent laziness. It does, however, also make sense that little kids don't need a million activities to grow and learn. We got the play thing down, school is a great for social interaction, and all their good and bad lessons are rooted in time with family and friends.

Now that I've said that, I'm going to contradict myself. The Monster is in skiing lessons right now (which she adores - her word) and an art class. She had the choice of dance, gymnastics, singing, karate, or anything else. She asked for art. That's my girl!

Because I am notoriously late at registering her for things and am often left with little choice I wasn't optimistic when faced with our art class choices. Luck/karma was on my side though. She got into everyone's first choice - Anatomy. Have a mentioned her obsession with human anatomy before? She spends a lot of time with the med school anatomy text book my brother loaned her.

Needless to say, I was quite keen to see what came out of her when she started her class. Last week was all about skeletons and they got to play with actual molding clay. This picture is from her first class. I'm not sure what the goal was, but she tells us it is a picture of her walking through a snowy forest. Uh, okay, if you say so.

I'm not sharing this here to brag about my gifted child (you should see her sad excuse for a t-rex skeleton), rather, to share this awesome design. It reminds me of the one I did here, but just enough different. There is definitely a quilt in this...
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Merry Christmas

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It seems rather obvious that most of us are gathering with family over the next few days. Whether family means the neighbours next door or the entire familia at your parent's house, there are likely to be a few familiar treat on the table.

For me that means a big Ukrainian feast, followed by Christmas Tree bun, a fantastic gourmet feast, and more hot cocoa than anyone possibly needs. Don't forget about the rogalki, the shortbread, the rum balls, and definitely the booze. (Have you ever noticed how Christmas is much more enjoyable now that you can drink in front of your parents?)

As a parent myself now I was fighting crowds and crossing fingers. There I was in Canadian Tire, not quite begging Santa to come through for me. The Monster asked for a water gun in her letter to Santa. A water gun, in December. While I waited for a very, very kind elf to check the basement of Canadian Tire for a random water gun I browsed the candy aisle. That's when I came across the Misty Mints.

These were a favourite holiday treat in my family. Only for Christmas. We hoarded our favourite colours, even though they all taste the same. They aren't even real chocolate, but are so tasty. And full of memories.

When the elf returned, miraculously, with a couple of soakers, I grabbed a few boxes of Misty Mints to share with my family. Santa will still be the popular guy with my four year old. And maybe my family peace can be negotiated with some pseudo chocolate. Merry Christmas.

What will you be sharing this week?

I'm taking some time off for the holidays. See you in the New Year!
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Caught in the Act

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Have you ever considered boycotting the entire notion of Christmas baking? Frankly, I'm sure most of us have at one time or another. We're so busy during December and stopping to bake a couple of dozen cookies for a swap, a party, or simply to steal from the freezer for the rest of the month is the last thing we want to do.

Then we see the covers of the magazines and every single one is a Christmas tree arrangement of glittery cookies tempting us back into the grocery store for butter and sugar. Our kids/partners beg for a batch of shortbread or some esoteric treat their mom used to make. Or the guilt hits.

Every year I swear I'm not going to do it. Maybe a batch of Chewy Chocolate Gingerbread or Peppermint Bark. But THAT'S IT.

And every year I bake 3 or 4 more kinds of cookies. Then I pretty much eat them all myself. What a Ninny.

So this year I vowed I wouldn't do it. I swore to my husband and my jiggly tummy that I wouldn't even buy the butter.

Then The Monster started prepping for the concert at school. It was all about The Gingerbread Man. In fact, a reenactment of the story. She's been walking around reciting the damn thing non stop. Then she asked to bake. I suggested gingerbread men. This brought on tears, full can't catch your breath sobs out of fear that our gingerbread men would run away after we baked them. We settled on gingerbread penguins and moose. Thank goodness there are no stories about runaway moose. At least none with catchy songs attached.

I pulled out the icing sugar, sprinkles, and ridiculously fake food colourings. It was craft time/kitchen time/treat time as far as the girls were concerned. It was a messy way to kill an hour. That's how I approached it at first. Still a Ninny.

The messier it got, however, the happier we all were. Grandma was visiting and happily iced the requested purple and pink penguins. We eventually laughed at the number of sprinkles underfoot, joking that one of us was going to wipe out like it was a pile of ball bearings and we were in a cartoon. My counters are stained and my kids ate more icing than cookies. There wasn't a single tantrum, by them or me.

No longer is Christmas baking about a pile of cookies in the freezer for the guests that might pop by. It isn't even about treats to share with the neighbours over tea. It is about process, the act of making. Baking and decorating cookies with the girls is like Jackson Pollack at a canvas.

Who cares that the cookies will likely not be eaten for lack of enough icing or the wrong sprinkles? They'll make me a little more Santa like, in spirit and with my jiggle.

For the record. We used this recipe from Julie for the cookies. The only change I made is that we cooked them for 10-11 minutes so they would be a bit softer.