G & H are back

OK, must type fast before I loose my keyboard again.

I am playing out every day the definition of insanity. I have oh, about, five Christmas decorations. It is not a lot, so the box is not that big. However, there are still not THAT many places where the box could be hiding. I have looked where I think it is/should be about 17 times. I swear it is in one of these places. I now look very slowly and I make myself touch things. You know, so that I’m not scanning over it while it is right in front of me. I’ve asked Halía to stop me if she sees me staring in her cupboard again (expecting her to be able to do this is probably a sign of how close I am coming to going totally INSANE.)

Yesterday in another attempt to get Christmassy I made gingerbread men with some nice authentic old style copper cookie cutters (this is what the label says, reality is that they are Made In China. So the authentic old style doesn’t sit that well with me. And while I babble… I threw out a teething toy the other day… don’t know who gave it to us… as it had that evil mark of Made In China. Bummer was that it looked perfect for her to chew on. But I promised Grandma not to kill her first grand daughter with any toxic plastics so what can I do?). Anyway, back to the cookie cutters. My mom gave them to me one Christmas (why can I find these and not anything else?) Well, I didn’t have the right ingredients, and then the 30 mins of chill dough in the fridge turned into overnight, and well, lets just say that micro waving, and adding milk and flour the next day in a desperate attempt to roll the dough out just barely worked. As I placed the demented figures on the tray I thought hmmm… pretty sure there was something about greasing these suckers. Oh well. So now I have various, very hard, ginger body parts to show for my first, and likely last, Christmas baking of the year. I must make notes on the recipe about how yes, you do have to follow it, so that I don’t ruin them for Halía next year. I can survive squished heads and one arm, but it might not be for her.

Speaking of herself, her cot arrives tomorrow. It is going to go in our room, as it is just soooo much easier while she is still getting up once at night for food. And not to mention the fact that Jan gets serious separation anxiety when I mention that she will some day have to sleep in her own room.