Wednesday, February 15, 2012

baking cookies


when i became a mom thirteen years ago i was over the moon... over ten thousand moons... crazy, crazy happy!  becoming pregnant was the first hiccup in our marriage so i when it finally happened i was set to be the best mom.  the best best.

no, i was not aiming for the type of "best" which requires trampling and trudging over other moms.  not at all.  my "best" meant the cookie jar would be full.  yes, yes, dinner would be... cooked, there would be dr.  seuss and jack prelutsky and itsy-bitsy spider and walks to the pond to see the turtles and tons of fruits and veggies and crafts with leaves, too.

but the cookie jar would be full.

later, blessed with a daughter and twin boys, valentine's day came 'round and my then three and half year old daughter helped me create some home baked valentines for her nursery school classmates.



we packed the cookies in cellophane bags, tied them with sparkly ribbon and had a special treat for each friend.  my daughter smiled proudly as she passed them to her classmates.

easter hopped in and my daughter wanted to spread the cookie love again.



the years passed, our children grew and on a sunny september day the world became a more complicated place. still, i baked and decorated and gifted and piped and packaged and delivered frosted sugar cookies to and fro for holidays and celebrations for those we loved.



our boys entered preschool and, despite that full cookie jar, the complications of the world snaked into our home.  with the support of family, we persevered and happily headed to dallas in 2007 for my husband's new job.

after settling the family into our new city, i resumed baking cookies for fundraisers and halloween treats and teachers' gifts and even googled "how to start a cookie decorating business".  in between, i refinished our furniture, cooked, kept the house pretty close to clean, ran a few miles each day with the dogs, yelled at kids to put their dishes in the sink, helped with homework and, most of all, grew to love our colorful neighborhood.

the famed granada theater on greenville ave... a block from our house.

but, before i knew it, those twisty and turny complications slithered their way under our house, rocking the foundation. i stepped back from the oven, packed up my cookie cutters, wiped the flour from my shoulders and headed back to the classroom to bring home some bacon.

full-time teaching position after over a decade at home.

call me a baby, but it was scary.

yes, it was tough having to shower each day and figure out who was picking up our 2nd and 4th grade kids from the after school program.  that was the tough stuff but it was not scary.

i'm talking the crazy scary that swirls around in your head making you dizzy with fear...you know, like the "why-the-heck-did-anyone-hire-me-to-do-this-job-cuz-i-stink-at-it-scary" and "cookies? when was the last time you kids had a vegetable?" and "help you with your homework?  whose going to help me with MY homework?" and "i can't miss this deadline!  i need to email that parent.  i should've given that student more time.  i could've done more."  and the heart-stopping scariest of all... "mom?  i can't be a mom to the three of you when i have to be a teacher to 100 6th graders!"


do you know that kind of scary that you can't run away from or take a pill for or call someone to exterminate?

resuming a role at the front of a classroom was a bit more challenging than expected since, during my decade dedicated to a full cookie jar, a few other folks focused on inventing these crazy electronic touch-sensitive boards for classrooms that project stuff from a teacher's computer.  yes, the teacher had to KNOW HOW TO TEACH with the COMPUTER.   software was not just something that brought bill gates billions;  software was important and necessary.  i needed to know all kinds of software to teach... and to grade... and to communicate... and to survive.

via

of course, i did not raise my children in a cave with my kitchenaid during that decade.  i had technology skills. i could google and send emails and write intelligible girl scout leader letters in ms word but on a mac... and the rest of the WORLD APPARENTLY DOES NOT DRAG AND DROP TO GET THINGS DONE!

i told you.  scary, scary stuff.

the hollow cookie jar was moved from the counter to the cabinet... above the fridge.

the economy tanked, the architecture firm that employed my husband-- formerly the third largest--bled quickly and he was let go on the third round of layoffs....four months after i started teaching.

phew.

big, fat humongous health insurance and steady (small) paycheck phew.

fast forward a year and a half later to summer 2010 when we packed up to move back to the northeast. my husband's new job has him traveling much of the time and we wanted to be closer to our family.  during that quiet summer of decompressing, our children slowly revealed what they saw during the two years that i was teaching.  in a nutshell, it wasn't horrible... but it wasn't pretty either.

the salvage collection was born.

and what about the cookie jar?  to tell you the truth, it's usually empty... and i'm okay with it.  i learned a lot about kids and parenting and teamwork and marriage and, mostly, myself during the two years i worked 60+ hours a week.

for now, let's just say that when the jar is full, it's a result of this:





or this:





we all know these cookies are not as perfectly decorated as my martha stewart-wanna-be's.....




but they are much sweeter.


10 comments:

Lori C said...

And you learned that a continuously full cookie jar is not what being a good mom is all about. :)
But home made cookies once in a while sure are yummy! And we here in bloggy land are glad that you are here, also!

Mitra Pratt said...

Dude! Firstly your cookies rock! And you know I know! Secondly I hear ya on the moving and working and Mom stuff! Loved this post! And your latest orange project!

Mitra Pratt said...

Oh and PS glad you are in blog land with us!

Junky Vagabond said...

What's that saying? Life happens when you're busy making other plans?

Start offering some of those awesomely decorated cookies with each piece of furniture - kick off the Salvage & Cookie Collection! :)

Tina@WhatWeKeep said...

Change is so hard sometimes and we don't understand why/how things can change in the blink of an eye. Lots of lessons learned during those blinks, huh? If that cookie jar gets filled even half way, you're doing fine.
I'll take your kids cookies over Martha's any day. I want the one with chocolate sprinkles, please.
Her cookies look good, but they taste like crap.

Barbara Bussey {The Treasured Home} said...

If my cookie jar was full, I'd weigh very large numbers because when ever I make cookies, which are so good, by the way, I EAT them!

Yep, life's all about the c (ompromise) word...but in the mean time, you're close to home, you're empowering your kids, rather than insisting on perfection, which is pretty perfect. It's all a lot better than working for someone else! (don't tell your husband! Besides, he probably already figured it out! Bless him!

JunqueMagnet said...

Great post. It's the illusion of control that we all keep striving for. If the cookies are made then I'm a good mom and all is well. A very wise woman at the thrift store (yes, I am THAT friendly with the workers) told me after I quit working to stay home with my son and was quite obviously panicked about the whole thing, "Honey, they won't remember what you didn't give them or what toy they didn't have. They will grow up and remember you were there.". So many changes since then and so many attempts at controlling our lives have failed. Many times I have failed to really " be in the moment" ( sometimes on purpose because these fabulous kids are working my very last nerve hollering Mom incessantly) but we all just plug along. The intent is there and all any of us can do is try to be the best we are and try to strive for the best we are capable of. There is no having it all. There is only the choosing of what things you can make fit. Blog on. You are cracking me up and creatively flying. And I don't make pretty cookies but when I do make them they taste awesome. Just ask my kids.

amy of the salvage collection said...

thanks, ladies! glad to know that i’m not alone in this...struggle...stretch...reach for control and comfort and contentment. hmmm... perhaps the "control" part needs to go and be replaced with "compromise"?

Drama Mama Lori said...

Thanks for your honesty and maybe, thanks for not being perfect. I am sitting here, sleep deprived, with tears in my eyes and more than a little surprised at reacting so strongly to what you shared. You're clearly a great mom and your kids have seen what a strong woman does to hold things together, even if it's not always pretty. And that'll stay with them forever. And I've never made a pretty cookie in my life. ~L

Katy said...

Oh Amy.

I spent 8 years at home with my 3 kids. I was terrible at it. I can't bake or cook and I hate cleaning every day. It was bad. The worst part is that my kids will never remember those 8 long years.
After hubby walked out and I had to go to work full time, I realized -- all that time. They'll never remember. All they will remember is me working like a dog and constantly stressed out and never spending much time with them. And I still can't cook.

it's a nightmare. :(

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