God's teaching me something...

Remember last year when I posted these?

They were nearly perfect, I barely let the kids help, I micromanaged the very small amount they did, and I am pretty sure I raised my voice.  I was proud of how they turned out, but the memory wasn't what it could have been.

That was last year.

This year we each picked out a Christmas cookie recipe to be in charge of.  I helped Michael with his while Elsa played with the babies, then that same evening Elsa and I tackled hers and Michael entertained the little ones.  Her dough wasn't cooperating and we had to improvise, but she was pretty proud of the outcome.  We ran out of time for mine.  And then Thursday came and no one wanted to help.  I asked again on Friday and it was still a no go. 

When making the chore list for Saturday I added my Christmas cookies to the list.  To the chore list.  The kids didn't hesitate to finish the laundry or the dishes and Michael really scrubbed the bathrooms...but those cookies were seriously avoided by the kids. 

I decided to take a different approach.  It wasn't easy, it wasn't clean, it wasn't perfect, but it was a family laughing and enjoying the project. 

I present to you our masterpiece and my humbling lesson in love and letting go:

This guys hat has fallen over his eye:



I'm really not sure what happened to this guy:

Hahahahahahaha

These two have some serious issues...

I'm not sure I can count how many times this year Elsa has rolled her eyes, sighed, and said "Mama, it doesn't have to be perfect."  She is right, and somehow it is starting to sink in.  Funny how God can choose to speak to me through something as silly as a Santa Claus Christmas cookie.

We also found out that they taste perfect!