Since we are going to be snowed in for a few days, this might be a good time to start recapping the holidays, mostly so I don’t forget they happened! After a rocky start to the holiday season, the Tamiflu kicked in, and I think we were able to pull together a pretty decent Xmas, even though we stayed at home in our Influenza-quarantined home.
It was a more stripped-down holiday than I would have liked, given that my kids are at the sweet-spot, age-wise, for all things Christmas. I was a little depressed that I wouldn’t be able to pull off my usual gingerbread-y cookie plate, which is one of my favourite traditions, but then it occurred to me that, if all four of us were sick, we could just make cookies for us and not share them. It doesn’t matter how germ-y our hands are, when we all have the same flu, right? And this way, I could practice letting go of my OCD obsession with perfectly decorated Christmas cookies, and just let the kids go to town with my rather impressive collection of sprinkles, sanding sugars, and other cookie decor. 
And so we did, on Christmas eve, no less. It is a lesson I find I have to learn over and over again as a parent, this letting go of the Platonic ideal of what a thing or an experience should be, and just allowing these moments in life to unfold imperfectly. Our cookies were deeply imperfect, but it was great fun to just let the kids sprinkle with abandon, over-ice everything, and make a huge mess. They were so proud of their cookies, several of which ended up being left out for Santa later that evening.
It is hard for me to reconcile it: the plate of cookies up top were last year’s holiday offering, and this tray is this year’s batch. But I wouldn’t trade the look of pride on their faces as they finished each cookie, after carefully contemplating the perfect icing colour/sprinkle combination.
And that was Christmas Eve: baking, decorating, and last minute cleaning. The kids ran to bed, eager to fall asleep fast so that Santa could come, and bed time was a breeze. Later, the mister and I eschewed these gingerbread in favour of some simpler versions, chocolate dipped without sprinkles or doodads, and we wrapped and wrapped and wrapped and wrapped, and fell into bed at 1AM, like parents everywhere, dosed up to the gills on flu medication and ready for Santa.