Last Christmas, as lay sprawled among the wreckage of wrapping paper and boxes I thought to myself -"Next year will be so much easier"... All of the kids will be in school full time..I will be able to leisurely shop, wrap and bake while fully(and fashionably) dressed with combed hair in a sparkly clean house... I will send Christmas cards and packages- EARLY!..In the evenings, I will greet my husband at the door with a cocktail and a "Darling-how was your day?" and as I sashayed into the kitchen to check on the roast.. my angelic children (washed and in clean pajamas) would gleefully announce(for some reason in British accents) "Oh Mummy..Father's come home!" Later on, after the children were tucked into their beds...we would sit in front of the fire sipping eggnog...just enjoying each others company.
We also did quite a lot of baking. I thought it would be a good way to teach measurements and how to follow a recipe. I wound up doing the majority of it as my kids ran screeching through the house pumped full of sugar.( Sometimes I think that they would make a wonderful alternative fuel source. Feed them lots of sugar and then put them on a treadmill-which would be connected to a generator. Voila! The worlds energy problems would be solved.) They did enjoy decorating the cookies-between bouts of sugar induced hysteria. I was left with all the broken ones. I think I did a nice job.
So here it is..Christmas Eve. The tree is up, the presents are wrapped..the house is a mess (I'll clean it after the holidays) and my children are