Saturday, December 8, 2012

Child Donation

 Holy Cow Moment #?: I survived!!!

Last night was one of THOSE nights. The nights where you really consider child donation or even putting them up on ebay.
It was one of those nights where I had too much to do and not enough me to go around.  The second we got home was supposed to be for dinner and baking.  Instead the cookies didn’t turn out – anyone know why cookies go paper thin straight from the fridge to the oven??  Anyway from there it was cranky baby central.  I figured I was lucky that she ended up going down for a nap – for 20 minutes.  Then it was go time while I still had to come up with a cookie recipe for one of those awful cookie exchanges.
Let me just say that I normally love everything holiday until someone says “please bake 7 dozen cookies” and you barely know them as it is.  Yeah. 
From there my little wonder wanted to dance to the musical ornaments on the tree.  Cute right? Well unless you want to bake – I use the term want loosely. After coaxing her to allow me to leave the tree party I attempted to get her to eat and maybe watch a movie.  That worked for about… oh 10 minutes.  Dinner ended up on the floor mostly.  Now she is going to help me.  Oh goody.
Pulling out the stool so she can climb to counter height seemed like a great option, except she wanted to be held.  Have you ever cracked an egg with a baby in one arm?  About twenty minutes later the new dough is ready to go so I force my child to stand on her own two feet – I know I am awful.  I heard all about it. 
From here it is a balancing act of getting cookie balls onto cookie-sheets while holding her back to get them in the oven.  After that I have 8 minutes to get another batch ready – or I can clean up the yogurt that was just sprayed around the kitchen. Choices, choices.  After that I have to again restrain child from hot oven and then remove her from the stool that she has now gotten her head stuck in. The night just continues like this for two more hours.
By 10 cookies are baked, I am beat, and my child is still running circles around the dogs – who by the way are exhausted even.
Merry freaking Christmas days.

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