First I took some advice from a friend and did something that might lift my spirits, I turned on a slideshow of the photos in my photo library.
I didn't sort them. Organize them. Put them perfectly to music…I just turned on some instrumental hymns and pushed play.
I just pushed play.
The slideshow was of our little family's Christmas Eve.
Christmas Eve my kids, husband and I were decorating cookies for Santa.
I meant to do it the day before. I meant to not push it to the last minute. I meant to not be behind. But here we were, 8 pm on Christmas Eve, decorating the cookies.
It was fun! I tried to let go of how late it already was. And pushed through my disappointment in being behind yet again this year.
I loved squishing the ziploc bags filled with colored icing in my hands. I loved how it came out quickly and I swept my hand back and forth to make this beautiful Christmas tree.
I loved that I had mini M&Ms that I hadn't planned on buying or using for cookies and that I could decorate my Christmas Tree and make it look beautiful and "perfect".
I loved my perfect cookie.
As I looked at the kids cookies, I almost didn't want to put them in the pictures next to the "perfect" cookies that Tim and I had made. I felt we had discovered a hidden talent and that Tim and I had realized we were actually really good at making beautiful cookies!
And our kids cookies. I loved that they were decorating. Having fun. Expressing themselves. But they weren't much to look at. And they kind of messed up my tray of "perfect" cookies.
It was hard for me to see them put too much icing in clumps, sprinkle way too many sprinkles, and frost the table as much as their cookies, but I still loved that they were doing it.
It wasn't clean. It wasn't perfect. But I was good with it. Even though I would have to clean the frosting off the sprinkle containers for 20 minutes afterward.
I was proud of myself for being a good mom and letting my kids express themselves, even though messy.
And I put their creative cookies next to the "pretty" ones and took a picture. Cause that's reality. And reality is cool.
But still. I thought those cookies weren't quite a sight for sore eyes.
And then here I was today. Listening to the song that came on. "I Know That My Redeemer Lives". The song that I didn't perfectly pick. The song that was at the top of the playlist.
And then the decorating cookie pictures came on.
My kids were squishing frosting.
They were happy. So happy that my son decided to decorate cookies at his birthday party instead of having cake.
And then I saw the pictures of my "beautiful" cookies. Nice photographic depth of field. Cool bright colors. Nice clean lines and appetizing views.
Cool. I'm a little bit proud I could do that. I enjoyed it.
And then these. My kids cookies.
And I almost started to cry.
These cookies. These imperfect cookies. These cookies that caused me the most cleanup time. These cookies that didn't look oh so appetizing. These cookies that would not be put in a bakery shop window. These cookies that I almost was afraid to feed someone. These cookies. These were my favorite.
I like these cookies the most.
And then I almost wanted to cry again. A good cry.
