Want to know the very best Christmas cookie tip you’ll never read in a recipe? I’ll share it with you. But first I have to tell you how I learned it.
I had a Pinterest mindset before Pinterest existed. I thought the holidays were made perfect if everything I touched looked perfect: a tree dripping with ornaments, presents wrapped meticulously, and suitable Christmas carols playing on the stereo cassette player.
(FYI, Blue Christmas is the sole resident of my unsuitable carol category. Blue Christmas is a travesty among Christmas songs. Sorry, Elvis.)
And of course, I wanted my Christmas cookies to be picture perfect too. I wanted it so much I usually made them after the kids had gone to bed.
The Problem With Kids & Cookies
Kids rarely have any appreciable artistic ability and mine weren’t the exception. And, as everyone knows, Christmas cookies are an artistic endeavor. Furthermore, kids make a mess just walking through a kitchen, let alone touching anything in it. Let them bake cookies? Never!
So I had cute cookies (I mean, the cutest) and a clean kitchen. But I missed out on making those special holiday memories in the kitchen with them when they were young. Worst of all, they missed out on making those memories.
The Very Best Christmas Cookie Tip
There’s not a parent of adult children alive who doesn’t have regrets. Keeping my kids out of the kitchen is one of mine. Now that my children have children of their own, I realize the big mistake I made.
So here’s the very best Christmas cookie tip of all:
Remember, you’re not making cookies, you’re making memories. The process is so much more important than the product.
Because the truth is, 25 years later, no one really remembers pretty cookies (except me. So pretty.) When my kids talk about Christmases past, they recall things we did together: going to candle-light services on Christmas Eve, reading the Christmas story from Luke 2 before opening gifts, and playing with the nativity set. (It was plastic so they could play with it.)
Learning From My Mistake
If I could go back to when my kiddos were little, I’d put aprons on us all and make cookies with them. I wouldn’t stress about flour on the floor or frosting smears on chairs. And I wouldn’t raise an eyebrow at gingerbread men that looked like accident victims.I wouldn’t raise an eyebrow at gingerbread men that looked like accident victims. Click To Tweet
Of course, it’s impossible to go back. So I’m going forward – older and wiser. Next week I’ll be making Christmas cookies with my granddaughter, Addy. However, Blue Christmas will still be loathed when it plays on the Holly music channel. Some things will never change.