I've come to conclusion that I am much like Clark Griswold, the Chevy Chase character in one of my all-time favourite movies, "Christmas Vacation". Clark just wants to have his family together for Christmas to have fun and do various activities together. Of course, it all happens with predictably disastrous results. I think...no, I know that I do the same. I make these big expectations and want everything to be perfect, failing to factor in that sometimes I lack the talent to make it happen and that the LP are still very young. They have limited attention spans and their agenda doesn't always coincide with mine. And that's okay. I suspect if you were to go back and re-read this blog, you'll see that this has happened many, many times...and that I always say it's the effort that counts. Because I think that it does.
In my Clark Griswoldian fashion, I had a vision of the three of us making a gorgeous gingerbread house. Christmas music on the radio, sitting together in the warm kitchen, laughing and working together as we started a family tradition. Because, you know, I never seem to learn. As I tucked LP1 into bed on Wednesday night, I told her we would be making a gingerbread house the next day. I like to tell her something to look forward to in the morning so she will settle down and go to sleep. Oh, she looked forward to it. So much so that on Thursday morning, it was the only thing she could think of. No breakfast. No doing other things. We. Must. Make. That. House. She even found the kit Daddy and I had purchased and took it upon herself to drag her chair over to the counter, pull it down and bring it to me.