Saturday, December 12, 2020

All I wanted was to eat a gingerbread cookie

It had been a week. 

After spending several days on a family retreat in Tennessee, we were back to "normal life," and it was not going well. Between a child who screamed every time he needed his nose wiped, a child breaking a glass bowl in the kitchen, a child who had run into a major street without warning, a cranky baby, piles of clothes and crafts to unpack, and two children who were refusing to nap, I was done. On top of that, we no longer were surrounded by friends, walking down a dirt path to Mass every single day, and my husband was back at work. The weather in Oklahoma had turned to winter when we returned, so instead of spending time outside with neighbors, we were stuck in the house. My neighbor's tree had been cut back severely in our absence, and Nintendo was making some controversial decisions (we are a Nintendo household, so this was a big deal for us). 

In case some of you out there feel bad for not having Instagram-worthy
Advent decorations, let my dining room table
reassure you that you are not alone ;) 

But, it was the weekend now, and things were looking much brighter. After taking a family trip to Confession (which I desperately needed), we enjoyed a fun dinner at a new-ish Japanese restaurant we'd driven by many times. When we arrived home, I happily began taking out ingredients for a double-batch of gingerbread cookie dough, so that the next day, we could make "crosier cookies" to celebrate St. Nicholas. As my husband, baby, and four-year-old listened to music in the office, my two-year-old creamed together sticks of butter and glistening sugar. I smiled, thinking about all the fun we would have cutting out cookies and eating them together. I cracked an egg, and grabbed an extra bowl to separate the yolk and the white...

The bowl slipped out of my clenched fingers and sailed to the floor, smashing into the hard tile. There were pieces of glass all over the kitchen floor, on the kitchen counter, and one had even sailed up into the clean skillet. Shards had flown into the dining room--onto chairs, across the floor, next to the patio door. Glistening specks of glass even landed as far as the living room. It was amazing to see how many bits and pieces of glass could fly from one tiny bowl. After seeing that, miraculously, no glass had hit my toddler, I sent him into the office and turned to the task at hand. 

Do you think any glass got into the cookies? I asked my husband, gazing at the shards that sprinkled across the table. He and I looked doubtfully into the bowl, where mounds of sparkling white sugar sat atop butter. Better not risk it, I muttered, dumping the bowl's contents into the trash can. The next hour and a half was spent wading through glass as I vacuumed, swept, vacuumed again, swept again, and mopped up every bit of glass and glittering sparkle I could see. Once I finished, it was far past bedtime. We we got the kids ready for bed, prayed, and then I stalked back into the kitchen. Providentially, we had just enough butter left for a nice big batch of cookies. That way, we would have plenty for ourselves, and plenty share when we gathered with friends. 

I had planned to just make crosiers (bishop's staff) and stars,
but then my oldest saw the rest of the cookie we also had
daleks, a Tardis or two, and Yoda heads. 

Just a few days later, the air filled with squeals and giggles as my sons ran around the park with their friends. When I announced that it was lunchtime, one of my children rushed to the minivan. Excited at the special treats we had brought to share, he began running towards me--a bag of kettle chips in one hand, the plastic tub of cookies in his other hand. Go put it on the table! I called, my arms already laden with a purse and a baby. I walked over the minivan and put the baby down, so I could grab the rest of our lunch bags. My back was turned when I heard a cry of dismay. My child was so excited that instead of putting the food on a table, he had happily scurried in circles until the container had fallen down onto the parking lot, spilling gingerbread cookies across the pavement. 

I guess it's time to buy more butter for another batch of cookies. 

It was one of those weeks when I asked myself,
"This has been a rough several days. What would brighten it up? VAMPIRES."


  1. Oh my GOODNESS, friend!! What a week! Last week was like this for us and I have spent the whole weekend recovering from it. May this upcoming week be much better!

  2. You captured the events so well in this post, I can picture it! I can relate to this post on so many's a crazy, beautiful, hard, joyful life!

    1. Thanks, Elisabeth! I'm glad you enjoyed this. Hang in there on those tough days! Motherhood is such an amazing adventure, but it sure is exhausting ;)

  3. Oh my goodness, what a WEEK. I hope you were able to laugh a little, or at least the vampires were entertaining, but I would have cried! Oh man. When it rains it pours sometimes. I hope you got your gingerbread cookies eventually!