Because I already ate the Nuts and Chews

Each year brings new enthusiasm for decorating sugar cookies. If only I had read my post from last year before I decided to bake cookies at 7 PM, I may have stopped and asked myself if this was a good idea.

Last year, my issue was that Lola consumed so many M&Ms that I thought we were going to have to pump her stomach. This year, she ate so much cookie dough, we barely had any cookies to decorate.

Why you ask, would I give her access to the cookie dough?
Well, one skill that Lola has mastered in the kitchen is the act of stirring ingredients together. Give that kid a bowl and wooden spoon, and your ingredients are mixed in a matter of 30 seconds. It's almost like having a Cuisinart, except she likes to stick her fingers in the batter and steal the dough.

Usually, I'm pretty good at monitoring her wandering fingers, but this time, I was too busy searching for our sprinkles and frosting. Before I knew it, almost a 1/3 of the dough was in her belly.

Somehow, she remained in good spirits and was able to decorate with me.

 

I think its pretty obvious that I have no future as a professional cookie decorator. I think I better stick to law.

Chippy

Speaking of other people taking credit for things, Lola believes that her Elf on the Shelf (whom she calls Chippy) is responsible for the chocolates in the advent calendar. (Here is a photo of the advent calendar that I made last year when I was feeling super crafty. Each square is a felt pocket that hold a ghirardelli peppermint bark chocolate square.)

For those of you who are unfamiliar with the Elf on the Shelf premise, I will quickly explain. The Elf arrives in the mail, sent by Santa to keep an eye on the children. The elf goes to the North Pole each night to inform Santa of whether the children were naughty or nice, and then returns in the morning for another day of observation.

I had mixed feelings over whether to introduce this concept to Lola. For one, ,I thought the elf looked a little creepy. I mean, look at him.

But then, I also loved the idea of using this elf as a way to convince my two-year-old to be good. At this age, every little bit helps.

So, I gave in, and a few days later, he arrived via UPS. As I opened the door to get the box, I told Lola, "This is from the North Pole. Santa sent it." Lola saw the UPS truck pull away, and shouted after it, "SANTA!" As a result of my comment, she now believes that UPS and its drivers are agents of Santa. :)

In the beginning, I wasn't sure if she really understood the concept behind the elf. But then, one night, while she was in the bathtub, she asked, "Does Santa watch me when I'm in the tubbie?"

WHOA.

I assured her, no that no one watched her (except whoever was giving her a bath), while she was in the tubbie. Clearly, she understands.

She has also befriended the little elf. Tonight, when she was saying good-night to everyone (Archie, Gizmo, Josh, her seventeen stuffed animals), she said, " Chippy, I am your sister. Good-night."

Oh, my little girl.

Owning the Awesomeness

Noticing that there were quite a few presents under the tree labeled to Lola, from Josh, I asked him if he had wrapped all of his gifts for Lola. He said, yes, he had. I asked him if any of those presents contained a dinosaur, as that is the only gift Lola has requested from Santa. He said, yes, he purchased a set of dinosaurs (he couldn't just purchase an individual dinosaur because he wanted a brontosaurus (since he believes brontosaurus is the best dinosaur) so instead, he had to purchase an entire prehistoric era in order to get a brontosaurus) and that he wrapped it, labeled it to Lola from Daddy, and stuck it under the tree.

But, I said, the dinosaurs are supposed to be from Santa. If the dinosaurs are wrapped with a label affixed to it, and they are already under the tree, what do you think Santa is going to bring her? Do you think that some present is going to magically appear on Christmas morning?

I paused here, expecting to hear a rational response.

Instead, he said:
"Why does Santa have to get credit for all of the awesome presents?"
 
Ultimately, we compromised. The gift will remain wrapped, but we will tell her it is from Santa.We can't let the man in the red suit lose his credibility just yet.

Pet Shop Santa

It's become an annual tradition to get a photo of Lola, Archie, and Gizmo, with Santa.  This year, Lola wasn't as leery of Santa. (I think this is because she has figured out that Santa is going to bring toys and candy.) 

However, Lola still refused to sit on Santa's lap.

This Santa wasn't really kid-friendly, so it made sense that he was posing with dogs, rather than kids at the mall.

I did get to hear Lola tell Santa what she would like for Christmas. She whispered, "A dinosaur!" before quickly resuming her distanced position.

Learning How to Give

Big picture concepts are difficult to teach to a toddler. In November, I struggled to explain gratitude to Lola in terms that she could understand.  As I told her about why we celebrated Thanksgiving, I tried to explain what it meant to be grateful for the people in our lives. I ended our conversation by saying, "Are you thankful for mommy and daddy?" And then, for the weeks that followed, when anyone would ask her what she was thankful for, she would parrot "I am thankful for my mommy and daddy." Occasionally, she would also add, "And my toys!"

Last week, we talked about charity. I told her that there was a little girl who had a Christmas tree, but had no presents to open. I explained that we were going to the store to buy a gift for this little girl and that we were going to give it to someone that could deliver it to the little girl for us.

At first, Lola did not like the idea of buying a toy for someone else. Whenever I would mention what we were going to do, she would say, "No! I want the toy!" And then, I would remind her why it was important for us to buy a toy for this little girl.

After an entire of week of this conversation, we went to the store. We walked up and down the aisles filled with toys. After what seemed like eternity, Lola picked out her gift:  A yellow bicycle helmet with Transformer characters on it. I asked her, just to clarify, if that was indeed the gift she wanted to give to a little girl. She said, yes.

So, we purchased the helmet, and found a Toys-for-Tots drop off site. It was located in a large parking lot, at the corner of a busy intersection.  I found a parking spot, took Lola out of the car, and walked over to a soldier. As I gave the helmet to Lola, I told her that this man was going to give the helmet to a little girl for her. Lola quickly handed the helmet over to the soldier.  Then, I asked him if I could take a photo. He kindly obliged.

(Lola was a little overwhelmed and refused to smile for the photo.)  As we got back into the car, I wondered to myself, if she really understood what it meant to give to others.  A few minutes into our drive, she said my name in a quiet voice.

"Mommy?"
"Yes, Lola?"
"That man is going to give the helmet to a little girl?"
"Yes, honey. He is."

Christmas in the Village

A few weeks ago, Lola and I attended our neighborhood's Christmas in the Village celebration.  We met Lola's BFF, Zoe, and Zoe's mom, Kacie, at the clubhouse for a community theater production of "Winnie-the-Pooh." 

Then, we walked to the park and saw a tow truck full of people playing ukeleles and singing Christmas songs.  

I think it is obvious that I wasn't the only one who got a serious kick out of the ukelele band. (I don't know that woman, but I think we could be friends.)

We stayed for the Christmas parade, and Lola was very excited about high school marching band.

Zoe was not impressed.

The parade was full of characters. We saw our U.S. Senator. (Doesn't he look like a Senator?)

As well as some llamas.

And even a group that is committed to using light sabers. 

 We even saw a car that I am pretty sure is on Josh's wish list.

The highlight of the parade was Mr and Mrs Santa Claus. However, I don't have any photos of them because as they driving by (on their tractor"sleigh"), they were simultaneously tossing out lollipops to the kids. I opted to hold onto my squirming two-year-old than get a photo of Saint Nick.

Lola and Zoe were very pleased with their lollipops.

It was a great afternoon.

Remembering Happier Times

When we first moved here, it was summer. Josh's birthday was soon, and I was searching for a recipe for a special dessert. My new friend Maria suggested that I make a brownie pudding cake, and she offered to loan her boyfriend's cast iron pan to me. The loan came with a caveat: I couldn't keep the pan too long, because her boyfriend, Thomas, would need it. She said, he used it just about every day.

I was thankful for the recipe, and I was curious about the boyfriend. Curious isn't exactly the right word. Intrigued, maybe? Downright surprised? I mean, I didn't really know many men who owned their own pans and used them, with the exception of one (Adam Lord, I am looking at you). And so, on that day, I declared Maria as one of the most fortunate women I knew, as she lived with a man who cooked for her.

I made the cake, and it was a success. A few weeks later, I bought my own cast iron skillet. It's twelve inches around, and heavy as hell. It's a permanent fixture in my kitchen, residing on the stove top, never resigned to the cupboard. I use it every single day.

It's been more than three years since that summer. Maria is no longer a new friend, but instead a very good friend. Over time I got to know Thomas, and I learned that he wasn't just a man in the kitchen, but that he was very smart, and fun, and had such an ease about him that you always felt comfortable in his presence.

At his memorial, Maria said, "We are all better for knowing him."  I never told him about my pan purchase. I know if I had, he would have laughed.

Thank you, Thomas, for your friendship and cast iron influence. One day, we'll cook again.