Yesterday I spent the afternoon at a friend's house, sorting through her tubs of baby-girl clothes for the next few sizes for D1. It was fun and breathed new life in an idea that has lurked at the back of my head for awhile: what if I had the two other SAHMs in the church--and all their kids--over to bake cookies in early December?
This would be three preschoolers, two toddlers, and two infants, in a small ranch house whose only workspace is the kitchen table. (If I put down dropcloths, I think I could impress the dining room table into service, too.)
I can hear my aunt and sister snickering now. Here I complain about the extreme labor of their cookie bake (in which small children are only invited for brief times and there are lots of other people and places to pack them off to when their attention wanes), and at the first opportunity I go running off to conduct an even more difficult one! I would not try to do the level of complexity they have, however. Two or three varieties at most, and no fussy ones.
Maybe I was just smoking too many french-toast fumes this morning.
The one downside to yesterday's activities is that I am not used to driving that far anymore and my back is killing me this morning. Fortunately tonight is chiropractor night.