Gingerbread House
True Story: There was once a time I thought my motherhood worth was measured by things like my child's hair always being combed and with a bow in it. I'm not sure when all of that ended, but at some point I gave myself permission to alter my perspective just a bit. Life is way more fun now.
I've arrived at the point I don't need to drag out every decoration for every holiday, I don't need to go to every single holiday event we are invited to and I don't need to research architectural inspiration for the perfect gingerbread structure (complete with stained glass windows made from melted sugar). Been there and done that and not only did I always end up burning myself with the melted sugar, nobody around here cares whether or not we've recreated St. Ulrich's or we assemble some premade shack from a box. It's not like anyone is going to eat it. I give it to Ryan and the kids every year. My job is to take the pictures.
(If you are in the category where you think your motherhood is measured in hairbows, get over it. They get big and refuse to wear them. You might just as well embrace that now.)
Sort of a lazy day around here...I have a low tolerance for chaos and disorganization. It makes me crabby. Without warning. So stayed home and putzed around all day. Didn't clean a single thing. I did knit a few rows.
Pantry Roulette for dinner...the kids were hoping we could order pizza, because "we never have anything to eat in this house", but I didn't. Stir fried tofu, vegetables and rice noodles in a peanut/ginger sauce.
