Covered in powder

It's been snowing since mid-afternoon. South of us is getting hammered. My s-i-l in south Jersey already had 10" 2 hours ago. We have maybe 3". I was looking forward to being cooped up and snowbound to get some baking done. I wanted to try several of the foodnetwork's 12 days of cookies recommendations. So we are covered in snow, and my kitchen is covered in flour. Among other things. So, powder, for a title.

I've tried to enlist the girls. Anna and I made the dough for the cherry and toasted almond cookies by Giada the other day and rolled it in wax paper to bake later (which was today). A batch of chocolate chip is in the freezer (or was, until earlier today). They helped me with rolling the oreo truffle batter into balls and making the orange and currant with polenta cookies. I dashed off to Michael's for some packaging materials before the storm.

BTW, no offense to anyone who uses it, but I hate slice and bake cookies. Baking with kids is an adventure. A messy, learning, sometimes hair-pulling adventure. Especially when you have more than one kid and they both want to do stuff and pout when their sibling gets a turn. When will they learn I always give them turns and am fair with them? Ugh. Anyhoo, slice and bake, while it avoids all the confrontation and the mess, does nothing for teaching about baking. And the "quality time" is really minimal. Get pan, preheat oven, unwrap dough, slice, place on sheet, bake. Then later, eat. And sometimes those cardboard cookies have the goofy holiday pictures in it. How do they DO that? It kind of freaks me out.

I taught the girls how to crack eggs when they were two, and we measure and smell and taste nearly everything, observing the changes of color and texture in the dough or batter, comparing the color and smell of nutmeg, ginger, cinnamon. I just love when Anna comes running in with her apron for me to tie. (If only she'd remember to take off the fancy dress she had on underneath!) I can't wait until they're old enough that I can truly delegate and they can work and help more independently. But why is it when I'm up to my elbows in a sticky gooey project, that Catherine decides she needs a drink? It's like the sense they have to come in and tell a long drawn out story or commence a mommy interview, just when Mommy picks up the phone.

Fashion note: I came home from Michael's to Catherine dressed as Cinderella in a puddle of blue fabric with plastic purple clattering shoes, and Anna dressed head to toe in red. The house was cozy as they practiced their reading in the kitchen. Anna had on a Santa hat, a too small red holiday dress with sparkles and red tulle, red stocking, red rainboots, a red ring, and a red hairband on her wrist as a bracelet. She may have worn a red-stringed necklace with a jingle bell on it too, but I don't recall. Sometimes she likes to be monochromatic, wearing all red or all pink. I love her fashion sense, but that's another post.

Meanwhile, in between cups of tea and batches of treats, Lee nags me to clean the kitchen. Why? when I plan on making a mess in there for another 36 hours? What is the logic? And my dining room is a disaster, but Christmas is in 5 days and I need to organize and wrap stuff and I have no where else to do it.

Ugh. I need to get more organized.

Then Lee demands I clean the bathroom, while I'm in the midst of my other adventures in the kitchen, after I squeeze in a quick shopping trip (brrr!) after he disappeared for a two hour errand. Three weekends in a row in December and I haven't been able to get any shopping done! Much of that is due to his disappearing on minor errands and leaving me with the girls. So who can shop, and I mean Santa shop, with them?

Meanwhile, I'm in the middle of baking cookies with all the bowls and cookie sheets and the mixer and ingredients and he decides he has to make smoothies. In the middle of it all. And not because he was in the mood for a smoothie per se. But because he decided to try to "clean out" the freezer and use things that have been in it for a while. But now I had to find the bottom half of the blender for him and we stand shoulder to shoulder operating kitchen appliances, adding to the kitchen mess. Then, while I'm trying to get the girls to help me add ingredients to the dough and assemble the cookies, he keeps interrupting with bright purple smoothies for them to drink while we're trying to work. Thank goodness none of that spilled anywhere. I just wanted to kick him out of the kitchen!

On another note, I just love the Christmas Tree Shop. One just opened by my house about a month ago. Such nice stuff and such good prices. Perfect for hostess gifts and teacher gifts and stuff for the house. I took the girls there yesterday after school. THAT was a fun shopping trip. The whining, the disappearing, the sneaking things into the cart, the potty break in the middle of the trip on the OPPOSITE side of the store (could they put the restroom any further away in the corner??) but we came home with some booty and today I tried to get some of it organized for their teachers. We have baskets for their teachers, and the girls picked out oil diffusers, candles and ornaments to put in them. We added coffee and tea, and we're going to add some cookies and truffles (in cute little gold truffle boxes!) Not that there's any more room in the baskets. Oh well.

For the secretaries I found large soup mugs with lids, for a song! Add coffee, treats, done. I bought one for myself for the office, too.

Tonight Lee said I reminded him of Buddy the Elf (from "Elf"). The kitchen was full of various cookies, goody bags half filled, baskets, wrapping paper, truffles, etc.

So anyway, I'm tired. I think I've earned my sleep today and I'd better go claim it. Maybe tomorrow, the psycho mom in me will decide to make snowflake cutout ornaments and let the girls paint some homemade gifts for family.

I think I'm a masochist.


UPDATE: Catherine said the snow looks like cotton, all "puffy up." And Anna kept calling yesterday's truffles "chuckles." *chuckles*

The Lazy Journalist

I tried to keep journals. Who knows where they are. Every entry is pathetically apologetic, like "I've missed so much and I must try to catch up"--and I never do. The handwritten ones were at least portable and good for vacations. Then I tried using a laptop. But I can never trust that Lee (my husband) won't decide we need a new computer because something is wrong with the old one and I lose all my files. Plus I can never find the darn things wherever they end up getting saved among all his stuff. Even when I have my own folder, to find it is just too much of a chore.

Plus, who has time to write? I'm nagged when I'm on the computer anyway, by him, the kids, whatever, and there's always chores to be done. Who can focus? Then there's the commitment to which computer, which file. Ugh.

So I may as well start a blog. Even if it's only for me. I'm so bad about printing pictures, too, and putting them in albums. Lots of empty albums and frames stashed around my house. But if I can have access to this blog from any computer and post pics online, maybe this will be an easier way of saving the girls' childhood adventures for posterity. If only I started this six years ago. I actually just got inspired by a fellow twin mom's lovely blog (though icky stomach virus post tonight!) that she started because baby books and scrapbooks were just NOT happening with twins. I can totally relate.

So to wrap up this first intro post, let me just say I call myself a lazy journalist not only because I'm terrible at keeping up with journals (I'm barely keeping up with a CALENDAR, for pete's sake!) but I'm also a lazy typist. I've tried to behave for this post, but I've become very lazy with punctuation and capitalization, in defiance of my literary background. So just get used to it. I also love parentheses a little too much....I sprinkle them everywhere.

Oh, and about me (in case someone besides me ever reads this thing)--I'm married to a funny architect (by trade) who's in another period of transition. Thanks, economy. And I have two lovely and charming six-year-old twin first grade girls. And a tabby who has disappeared mysteriously for the moment but usually shows up when the girls are in bed and I've just settled down with a cup of hot tea that she tries to nuzzle and spill all over my lap.

Oh, and another note. I drew a blank for a witty title for this blog thing, so I just jotted Double D Chronicles since most of these notes will probably be about my girls and our last initial is D. For anyone who's ever met me, you'd know that "Double D" is certainly NOT a reference to my physique! *pout* Nor are these the adventures of anyone's runaway bosom. Or runway bosom. But that would actually have to be an A- instead of a D because a D would topple a skinny model. Anyway, moving on. I couldn't resist trying to play with the symantics even if if was a poor attempt at being funny. It IS late. It's time to hunt down the pajamas. *yawn*