See that boy? That smile on his face while frosting cookies?  It’s priceless! 

They look like gingerbread or chocolate cookies right?  No… those are sugar cookies.  Why are they black you might ask?  Well… that was my attempt at being domestic again.  Yes, after all this time, I’m still not really sure how my family has stayed fed.  We have somehow. 

After Grant died, I had no need for food anymore.  Well at least for most of the time.  Then I’d realize I was hungry and find something to eat and fill up and never think about it again.  The result of that?  I left the kitchen.  I couldn't eat, cook or be in there and feel normal doing normal things like eating. 

The cookies, well those were from a box out of the fridge.  They’ve been sitting there for months now.  As you can see they are Christmas cookies.  It’s no longer Christmas, but the cookies waited.  And the kids would ask… can we bake the cookies and decorate them?  Not today I’d say.  I don’t want to.  Then today, I thought, yeah, let’s get those out and bake 'em up. 

My baby wanted to decorate cookies. Sure you can decorate them I thought.  I found a tube of white frosting from who knows when.  I preheated the oven, let him help me place the PRE CUT cookies on a pan and popped them in the oven.  A couple hours later, I noticed a nice smell in the house.  It was a sweet burnt smell, like someone was cooking French toast or something.  I asked the kids if they’d made toast and burnt it.  Nope. 

Another hour later, the smell was stronger.  I wondered where it was coming from.  As I passed the oven, I noticed a light on and then my light went on!  The cookies I shouted!  They’ve been in there for hours. 

Between meetings, phone calls, appointments, kids cleaning and laundry, can you believe it… I’d forgotten about the cookies.  Usually I set a timer.  I forgot that too.  I opened the oven to a waft of smoke just able to make out perfectly blackened sugar cookies that held the shape of what they were supposed to be but certainly didn’t look as they were supposed to.  The flavor and color of white snowmen and frosted Christmas trees?  Um, we got charred snowmen and black trees.  So no, these didn’t make out well. The cookies were definitely inedible. 

The baby was still so excited about his cookies!  “Sorry babe, they’re burnt and we can’t eat them.” I want to decorate my cookies, he said.  Well… ok why not?  Just because you can’t eat them doesn’t mean you can’t decorate them. 

I watched as he poured the frosting on the cookies, so intent, so happy.  He was having fun.  It’ll keep him busy I thought, so that’s worth it.  I looked at the color of the frosting, white against the color of the black cookies.  As I watched the contrast, I thought, how perfect.  White cookies would have been too light for that white frosting, this is much better.  I love how life really does work out perfectly, even when I burn the cookies. 

“I love my life,” I thought, as I watched that smile and the tube of frosting poured over cookies that would never be eaten. After he finished, he picked one up to take a bite.  I cringed, they won’t taste good, I said. They will taste good he retorted as he bit in.  Ok… He took his bite, spit it out and had no interest in eating any more of those cookies. 

The cookies were left to themselves as he went elsewhere and played.  I saw the package of what they were supposed to look like, I looked at the pan.  Nothing was similar at all.  I picked up the pan to throw away the cookies.  Grateful they fulfilled my little guy’s desire to decorate.  I smiled at the perfect contrast for decorating with white frosting and felt the happiness of this fail. 

I gazed at those cookies and thought how they fulfilled a mission, but that mission did not resemble what the package advertised.  It was a purpose that was not originally intended.  It looked different, and it’s not how I’d planned it to turn out.  I know what that’s like.  Be flexible, I thought, another mantra that gives peace to my heart while raising four little boys… who are a lot like their missing dad.  

I thought back to a time when I lived in the kitchen, made everything from scratch and made beautiful treats for the holidays, dinners and parties.  Those days are gone.  I don’t live in the kitchen in my new life. I live in my office and my bed when I can.  The rest of the time I’m trying to be present with these boys as I fill the role of mom, dad, provider, nurturer, cleaner, manager, and business owner.

They’re trying to have a normal childhood that has ended up just as fleeting as those cookies. They now have a mom who used to make awesome yummy healthy food and desserts. A mom that would never even consider buying pre-packaged cookies when we can make them from scratch kinda mom.  That mom did half the amount of things this mom does now, so it’s no wonder the cookies burned. 

I remember those days I thought, while I watched those pre-formed, pre-packaged cookies that I didn’t even bake properly as they fell into the trash one by one.  Those cookies were not being what they were meant to be, but still served a good purpose.  Oh well… I tried.  I smiled and walked away.