The Eve

It's official. Foil wrapped packages made their way from my freezer to the fridge, where they sat merrily all night thawing into doughy-cookie goodness.

The morning of the-great-baking, I was perusing a magazine when I came upon this page:



"Want to impress? Of course you do! Spice up caramels
and marshmallows, spike your sugarplums..." 


I had been enjoying the cookie and candy recipes, but this comment stopped me cold. "Want to impress? Of course you do!" Actually, no. I don't. I want to have fun this Christmas, laugh and love my family and friends. I want to give them gifts and cookies because I love them, not because I want to impress anyone.



Gingersnaps. My grandfather's favorite.
Rolled in sugar - not ego.

Usually my cookie making includes blaring Christmas music and a festive beverage, but this year I put the kids down for nap and got to work - without music or even tea.  I needed some silent time during this period of crazy hustle and bustle. I love working quietly by myself and I sometimes wonder if I missed my calling as a nun. Stop laughing, Liz.  I realized when I started taking pictures that I hadn't even turned the lights on, and I didn't want to.



I mean, really? Come on. These are perfection.

As I worked and watched some lovely light snow fall and coat the ground, but thankfully not the roads, a much needed quieting began in my overloaded mind. 

One time I was watching The Barefoot Contessa on Food Network make cookies and she weighed each ball on a food scale to make sure each one was exactly the same.



Come on, Ina.  Live a little.  

There's so much pressure. Perfect cookies. Gifts and parties that impress.  Nah, not for me. Not this year or ever again. Not for my kids. That's not what this season is about, and that's what I want to teach them.  It's about giving and loving, about miracles and belief.

I get sucked into that trap sometimes - of checking names off lists, of doing, doing, doing this time of year - but I'm going to try to rein it in.  I want traditions that our nourishing for the little souls I get to care for, that are meaningful and fun.

Thank you for tolerating all this cookie-nonsense this month. I promise, no more talk of cookies for awhile.

Thank you for coming here to read and for all the comments, both here and on facebook - I can't tell you what they mean to me. Each one is a gift.

Happy Holidays, whatever you celebrate. Merry Christmas.