Sugar Cookies

When Daddy doesn't come home... Mama sometimes loses her bearings. After a day of Eyewitness Amphibians, Beatrix Potter, home videos, and Caillou, while Mommy caught up with Grammy on the phone and got lost on the internet on the subject of henna hair color of all things, the day ended with cold cereal, yogurt, mac and cheese, and an imprudent suggestion to bake Easter cutout sugar cookies just before bedtime. So here we are, an hour past bedtime, with a counter full of sugar in pastels. (Sugar and food color dyes: the two things I abhor to feed my children.) Daddy will be pleased in the end, as frosted sugar cookies give him the same skip and smile that they give his children.

Lydia loves to be a part of kitchen creations. At the cooktop, at the mixer, at the island, she pushes me over with her stool demanding that she must see, while I retort back that this is where I must work. Here she is putting the finishing embellishments on a couple cutouts and proceeding to lick the bowls.

The kids were soon after in bed, and instead of putting my feet up and starting a good book, I was washing a sigh causing quantity of dishes and kitchen spaces. (I've found that a larger kitchen makes for a larger mess.) But now is quiet. I've stayed up too late. The Tirza dog has been snoozing for hours before the last late night trek out.