So there are two kinds of parents. The kind who sees this kind of mess and says a naughty word under her breath, and the kind of parent who sees this kind of mess and grabs the camera while simultaneously saying the naughty word. I am the second type of parent.
The next text to my husband read, "You'll never guess what your other son did!" This was the accompanying photograph:
|Nick always sticks his tongue out when he's working really hard.|
So would you like to know the back story of how this mess came about? It all started with guilt. Henry was napping (finally), but I could hear Nick reading to himself upstairs. I had been working on writing lesson plans for most of the day, and I haven't had some one-on-one time with Nick in ages. So I whispered to Nick to come downstairs, and we decided to bake some Christmas cookies.
|Nick is learning to measure and level off with a knife.|
Before Henry became mobile, Nick and I used to bake together all the time. It is just really hard to cook with both boys in the kitchen. I can cook with a kid, but not two of them. Nick was able to follow all of my directions and even read the packages in the pantry. "S is for sugar, F is for flour."
After we made the dough, we moved into the dining room to roll it out. We had an unexpected visitor--Henry was awake! So it was three for cookie cutting. I had chosen these cookies specifically because they're fairly soft and will fit into Henry's "soft food" diet and won't poke his stitches.
|It is impossible for me to make cookies without also making a humongous mess.|
Henry helped us roll out the dough, and he made cookies that vaguely resembled gingerbread men.
|Nick's rolling technique was a little more sophisticated than Henry's, but he has years of experience.|
Then it was time for the sprinkles. Ahh, sprinkles. When you're two, you can't just add a few.
Nick thinks all man-shaped cookies are gingerbread cookies. Oh, and do you see that bag of flour on the table? That is the bag that started this post.
It was while I was putting the cookies in the oven that it happened. I didn't hear a sound, but when I walked out of the kitchen, there he was. . .
What can you do but laugh? :) Oh, and the cookies? They were kind cute, once baked.
They were just very "special" little men.