I devoted a solar day recently to blistering holiday cookies for a cookie commutation at a Mommy get-together. Deciding this would exist an educational experience, I enlisted the assistance of my toddler in the dough making process.   We shared quite an enjoyable fourth dimension measuring, pouring, mixing, and tasting our creations.   Upon completing the dough, we advisedly tucked it away in the refrigerator to chill.

As presently equally naptime began that 24-hour interval, I hauled out the bowls of dough and ready about baking and decorating dozens of cookies.   This likewise would take likely been an enjoyable activeness for my son, but I wanted my cookies to await beautiful.   2 year olds don't know how to do cute ¦only messy and destructively messy.   That afternoon I broiled and busy four dozen reindeer cookies, painstakingly placing mini chocolate chips every bit optics and red chocolate candies to serve as the olfactory organ.   Pretzels were cut precisely to serve equally niggling antlers atop the peanut butter cookie head.

2 hours afterward I surveyed my tiny holiday masterpieces, choosing merely the perfect reindeers to swap in the cookie exchange.   I wrapped my platter in decorative cellophane, tying information technology with a coordinating ribbon and decorative tag.

On the morning of my Mommy get-together, I gathered both children, two diaper numberless, my handbag, and my perfect plate of cookies and off we went. I dropped the children off at their classes, and then rushed back out to the automobile to retrieve my festive cookies.   A quick glance at my sentry told me I only had a few minutes to make it dorsum within for the get-go of the cookie exchange.

I bet you tin can imagine what happened next ¦

broken Chocolate Chip cookie

I dropped the plate of cookies.

Upside down.

On the hardwood floor.

Antlers were cleaved off in sad footling pieces, noses were without a face, and the beautiful ribbon/tag/ornament combination I had carefully affixed on tiptop of the platter was a jumbled mess.

A perfectly adept afternoon spent making these cookies was now wasted.

In a moment of personal introspection, I learned a few things from this mishap.   I had missed out on the perfect opportunity to spend quiet time with one of my children considering I was seeking perfect cookies only to impress others.   I missed out on quality family unit time because I was notwithstanding packing away the cookies and cleaning up the postal service-baking war zone that was my kitchen.   I missed out on a much needed nap considering I had devoted my child-gratuitous hours to making sure reindeer eyes were even and antlers were directly.

Sometimes I put a significant amount of focus and energy into making sure my personal plate of cookies looks beautiful to others, causing me to neglect the important areas of my life.   Women (present company included) oftentimes get caught upward in the race to brand life resemble a Martha Stewart cosmos, with perfect edges and wrinkle-complimentary seams. My family is not asking me to be like the sleeky images of a magazine page or to exist picture perfect on a daily ground (or even a monthly basis!). My family enjoys the little fractured, imperfect pieces of me. This holiday season forget the rush to exist perfect. Take fourth dimension to focus on the reason of the flavor and on being with family unit rather than attempting to live up to standards that are but portrayed on the comprehend of a magazine.

To the Mommy who received my sad fiddling platter of broken cookie pieces at the exchange ¦just pull out a spoon and dig into those crumbs.   I am certain Rudolph is merely as tasty in footling pieces as he would have been whole and unbroken.

Kids Activities Blog is Holly'south blogging habitation.

She is the co-author of 101 Kids Activities that are the Bestest, Funnest Ever! and The 101 Coolest Simple Science Experiments.

She is the mom of three boys ages 13, 15 & 17 who partially homeschools. She believes that you shouldn't take to buy stuff to accept fun when in that location is a kitchen junk drawer full of possibilities.