Telephone!

The girls and I invented a new game while I was baking Christmas cookies this week. Telephone! Wait, you say, that isn’t new! Oh, yes, it is! Here’s how you play: Get your Fancy Nancy telephone. If you don’t have one, you’re going to want to go out and get one, or decorate an old phone with ribbons, flowers, and anything pink. Take a notepad and a crayon. Pretend to answer the phone for Mommy and take a message. This game may also be known as Secretary! Administrative Assistant!

From the picture above, you can tell Emmy’s had a cold this week. She was banned from the cookie-making process after she sneezed on all the chocolate chips I put into her little bowl. She didn’t mind; instead of putting the chocolate in the cookies, she got to eat the chips instead!

Here is the recipe for one of our favorite cookies at Christmastime:

Ruby Sparklers

1/2 cup sugar
1 cup butter, softened
2 cups sifted regular flour
1/4 tsp. salt
1 tsp. vanilla
1/2 tsp. almond extract
semi-sweet chocolate chips
colored sugar (I used red and green–ooo, Christmasy! To make colored sugar, I pour a small amount of sugar into a bowl and mix with a few drops of food coloring.)

Pre-heat oven to 325 degrees. Sift flour and salt; set aside. Cream butter with sugar until light and fluffy. Add vanilla and almond extract. Stir in flour mixture a third at a time.

Press dough (about a teaspoon) around three chocolate chips to make a small ball. Roll in colored sugar. Place one inch apart on ungreased cookie sheet.

Bake for 25 minutes. Yield: about 4 dozen cookies

And there you have it. A new game, PLUS a cookie recipe.

Happy baking!

Christmas Lights are UP!

This weekend, we put up the Christmas tree and Ed hung our lights out on the house. We look so festive! As we were driving home from the mall tonight, Lily asked why we didn’t have as many lights up as other people did. I simply told her the truth. We’re lame.

I’m doing all right these days. Grief catches me off guard, though. Emmy is giving signs of not wanting her nap, and I almost picked up the phone to call Mom. Mom gave me a special Christmas ornament last year, which I had forgotten about until Ed handed it to me. The other night at choir rehearsal, some simple words in an Advent carol reduced me to a blubbering ball of mush. Sometimes it takes me a while to recover and stop the tears; other times I take a deep breath and continue with the task at hand.

The past couple of night, I have dreamed about Mom’s funeral. I wake up sad, but maybe these dreams are helping me to process Mom’s death. It still doesn’t seem fair. I expected Mom grow old with Dad; to help me raise my daughters; to celebrate many, many more Christmases with us. It just doesn’t seem fair.

Yet, as Dad puts it, we go on.