How Do You Like Them Cookies?

I keep putting off this post, not because I don't want to write it, but because I keep having 'just one more thing' to add. The first time I saw a cookie from Wicked Good, it was when my friend Michele won a photography contest and part of the prize was her picture made into photo cookies by Wicked Good Cookies. It was leaning against her counter and I thought it was a tile because it was so precise and clean. She was so happy with the results that she took the stamped image for her daughter's birthday invitation and they printed it onto cookies that she used for party favors.

That was the best idea! No more bags of kitschy crap for the parents to toss when they get home, just delicious sugar cookies. Oh, did I mention that they not only look good, but they taste good as well? I don't know about you, but I really like sugar cookies and am usually disappointed when I bite into one to find that they're either hard, stale, or just don't taste good. I guess they didn't name themselves Wicked Good for naught.

I told another friend about the party favor, and she thought it was grand as well, and did it for her son's birthday party. (Really, it's just a ploy by me to score more sugar cookies but no harm, no foul, right?!)

That was at the beginning of the summer, and before I knew it, it was August and H's fourth birthday party was looming. I was going to be supermom and do it all myself. I had planned to make several different shapes of sugar cookies, frost them, and put them in cute decorative bags for the favors. This was in addition to making cupcakes and arranging and frosting them into the shape of a cow since we were having the party at Davis Farmland. Are you laughing yet? Have you seen the counter space that I have? There is NO WAY that I'd be able to leave the cookies overnight to let the icing harden enough to package them. It would have been a sad mess of unrecognizable sugar blobs in a plastic bag. I can just see the frozen smiles on the parent's faces; Thanks! Thanks for the great party favor! So glad we could make it!

Then providence shone upon me. Boston Mamas was smack in the middle of celebrating their third birthday and had a giveaway for two dozen photo cookies from Wicked Good and I won! I never win, so this was a huge coup!

Oh, did I mention this was two days from H's party that I won? The message from Boston Mamas clearly said that the folks at Wicked Good would contact me, but of course I contacted them first. Because I'm cool like that. I half-joking (not really) asked if they'd be able to whip those cookies out in a couple days in time to use them as party favors.

You know what? They contacted me back the same day graciously saying no problemo, and they were even going to ship them to me! Since Wicked Good is conveniently located between my house and Davis Farmland on Route 140 in Boylston, I asked if I could pick them up on the way...I wanted to lessen the chance that they'd get smashed, eaten or otherwise ruined before the party.

It was the easiest party I've ever done. I loaded up the cupcakes (in the carrier, not in the shape of a cow), picked up the pizzas from Monti's in Northboro then headed up 140 to Wicked Good. The cookies looked fabulous! They were wrapped and tied with ribbon; all I had to do was hand them out! They are reasonably priced, and the customer service is excellent.

I was all ready to do a post, but then I remembered that they have a cookie clubhouse where you can bring the kids in to decorate and bake their own creations. I mentioned it to one of my mama friends and she said "Duh! We're going in just a couple weeks!" Sure enough, it was on my calendar...so I knew I had to wait to post.

Ridiculously reasonably priced at $12.95/batch (or slab o' dough), the sugar-me-silly option allows kids to roll-out dough, cut out their own cookies with tons of cookie cutter options, and then go to town with colored sugar (exponentially less messy than frosting). While you're waiting for the cookies to bake, they each get to decorate their own bakery boxes. (The photo shown is about half the number of cookies he was able to make.)

The staff was really friendly, and each detail is well thought out, so that there isn't a lot of lag time for shenanigans with silly chillins. They kept about twenty kids entertained and busy for almost 2 hours...enough said.

Right now, they're running a great back to school special, where you get a free dozen gourmet cookies with any Back-to-School Gift purchase (use code BTS). What a fun way to ring in the new school year! I highly encourage you to drop in a decorate some cookies, or buy them pre-made for your next event. They have a huge range of designs or you can use a photo of your own. Perhaps most importantly, in a time of economic turmoil that is hard on small businesses, you're supporting a family-run local business...that's Wicked Good of you.

I Feel Pretty, Oh So Pretty!

J and I are headed to a wedding in Vermont tomorrow and, thanks to the generous offer of friends, the kids are stayin' behind!

It struck me a couple of days ago that I really haven't dressed up for a formal occasion since we moved here. Wait...didn't I give away a bunch of my dresses? And donate the rest?


Awesome. For a lot of women, having an excuse to go to the mall to buy a new outfit is music to their ears. I know it used to make me feel all warm and fuzzy...about 60 pounds ago it did, anyhow.


I have always been able to put really great outfits together, but (and I know I've expressed this on here before) it's long been a frustration to me that I get it on my plus-sized figure and it just... does not look how it did on my cute size 4 friend (you know who you are, beyotch!)


So, to have only two days to either find the perfect cardigan or wrap that would go with one of my two remaining (strapless) dresses or a new dress that would fit the criteria of outdoor, formal, early fall wedding...I was feeling like it may be a lost cause and I'd have to look a little frumptastic, bare shoulders and all.


I walked into Lane Bryant after H promised he'd behave so that he'd earn his chocolate milk at Starbucks, and immediately saw a cute fall silk dress. Okay...my coiled stomach started to unravel as I realized I'd have selection.


I ruefully confessed to the saleswoman that I had a wedding to attend and hadn't dressed up since prior to the birth of Charlie. When I said that I stopped for a second...that can't be right. I haven't had a formal event to which I've worn a dress for over a year? Longer, actually, because I would have been in maternity just prior to that. Wow, that's a little pathetic!


She pulled several dresses, and I (along with my entourage) went into a fitting room. I explained to H that he could not mess with the door handle as I'd be naked, and it would be embarrassing to me if he opened the door. He asked why I wanted a dress, and I said because I wanted to be pretty.


I slipped on the first dress, and as the fabric fell over my head and pooled around my body I opened my eyes slowly in order to soften the blow that always is; my body with all it's flaws highlighted by the nasty lighting of the dressing room. H exclaimed, "You look pretty!" Nothing like a four year-old's enthusiasm to make you look at yourself in a new light.


With each dress I tried on, and each accompanying proclamation of "You look pretty!" I felt a little more confident. Finally, the last dress I tried was it. It was fun, semi-fancy, and I'd even feel a little trendy in it. I already had shoes that would 'go' perfectly; all I needed were some chandelier earrings and I'd be set.


I glanced at the price tag as it's always my luck to like the most expensive one, but it was marked down to $29, while all the others were almost $70...as I pulled out my card to pay, it got even better because it was further reduced to just $17. A great dress, a successful shopping trip with your fan club, self-esteem boosted and money leftover for coffee? I guess you can have it all.

Continental Divide

I just read this post on LiteralDan, and had to share it because it's good to have reminders of the everyday ways that our country is full of a*&holes who don't care about the fate of our southern neighbors.

Earn Your Daily Bread

H loves to help me in the kitchen and I've been trying to let him help in more ways. Today, it was baking bread. The first step in my mom's Honey Whole-Wheat bread recipe is to mix 5 cups of hot tap water with 7 cups of whole wheat flour...at first I was filling the measuring cup and giving it to him to dump in, then I thought 'What am I doing?' I poured the water from the mixer into the sink and showed him the line on the cup, asking him to count each one as he poured it in, up to five. Sure enough, he was fully capable. The flour, I measured out, but let him put in and then showed him how to add 1T honey to the yeast and water mix in order to allow the yeast to 'work' better.

We had a great time together in the kitchen, and he was able to enjoy the fruits of his labor after the two risings; the first of which had initially been left out of my mother's translation of her recipe to me, so I ended up with an entire year of bread baking feeling like a complete failure since they were loaves of brick. I only found my mistake when reading Late Nite Kitchen and then called my mom "um, do you let the dough rise in the mixer first and then in the pans?" "Yeah, why?" "Sweet, you totally missed that part when reading me the recipe over the phone last year." Yet another reason it will be nice to be within driving distance of my parents; I can steal her written recipes from her house when she's not looking.

I felt like H had a fun time, and he definitely liked the bread, though he takes after his Grandma P and Papa in that he kept dunking the bread in the milk. I've never liked soggy bread, just thinking of the idea of milk toast makes me shudder. I kept telling him to stop that! That's disgusting! when he finally turned to me and said "I like to dip my bread in milk, it makes it taste better." Right. I keep forgetting that I'm supposed to be, like, allowing him to develop his own tastes and interests.

One step, however, that he will continue to miss out on that my mother did, unless I turn into uber freakshow mom when we get a house, is that my mother had an electric wheat mill and so ground her own flour for each baking session. Yeeeeeeah, we'll just stick with the triumph of baking our own bread for now.

H and Charlie had a lovely dinner last night of cinnamon toast made from homemade bread, applesauce and milk. They went to bed fat and happy, and my house still smells good this morning.

Granny's Honey-Whole-Wheat Bread

1. Mix 5 cups hot water and 7 cups of flour with paddle in the electric mixer.

2. While the above are mixing, sprinkle 2 tsp. yeast into very hot water, adding 1T honey or sugar to work yeast more effectively. Allow to sit until bubbly

3. Add 2T salt, 2/3 c oil, 2/3 c honey, yeast mixture and 1 cup more flour and mix.

4. Add 3-4 more cups flour, 1 cup at a time, dough will be sticky in the end. If it's still super wet, add a little more flour. Knead with dough hook attachment for 10 minutes and allow to raise in bowl for about 2 hours (I put my bowl covered with dishcloth on the pre-heated oven so it was warm...since my ac'd apartment is not warm right now)

5. Transfer to four loaf pans and let rise again until 1/3 larger, then bake at 350 for 35-45 minutes. Voila! You have bread!

I think I may try to use a little white flour next time, because this bread does end up being pretty dense. It's REALLY good for french toast, though two pieces will be plenty filling!

Great Expectations

Yesterday I took H to his first Tae Kwon Do lesson. He was so excited to don the dobok, although I needed them to show me how to tie the belt, and we were off.

I've been looking for that something that will magically transform little H from wild animal to doting student and I just knew that this would be the answer. He took his place among the other three little boys, all white belts as well, and started out putting forth his A game. He ran, kicked and punched when directed and demonstrated agility around the four plastic cones. My heart was singing as the look of exhileration and pure joy overtook his face.

This lasted for about twenty to twenty-five minutes of the class...and then the Nell version of H came out to play and it was kind of like watching three farmers chase a greased pig. After about three minutes of shenanigans during which I wanted to crawl under my seat in mortification (but also during which, they did not seek my assistance so were handling it just fine without me) the Grand Master entered the lesson.

In his booming, accented voice he instructed H to sit at the side of the mats. Look straight forward. Answer 'Yes, Sir!' to the questions he was asked. H tried to slink from his spot on the ground a couple of times, but the Grand Master turned his attention away from the other kids long enough to look directly at Henry and say Sit Down! Look Straight! But not aggressively, just authoritatively.

After the third time, he stopped to ask H how old he was, and just when I thought my heart would break for H and how embarassed he must be, the Grand Master broke into a smile and they applauded H for sitting there. He still had to sit out the rest of the class on the side of the mat, but it didn't feel demoralizing to me. It was exactly the kind of parenting I strive for, but always seem to miss.

At the end of class, H left the room and broke into tears as he saw me "I wasn't done yet!" The Grand Master called H over to his office and we sat down for what I thought would be a lecture, but what ended up as a pep talk. He told H that even he was probably the same way when he was four years old, but he listened to his Master and now look where he is! He encouraged H to come back, but if he wants to participate...he has to listen. We weren't able to leave with a sullen nod of the head, but instead he waited until H loudly answered "Yes, sir!"

As we left, I couldn't help myself. I told H that I was disappointed in how he acted, and wished he would have listened. I took away his bubble gum privelege and a tantrum ensued. Had I just kept my mouth shut, the talk in the office would most likely have been far more effective. My rant also served to erase the fun of the first twenty minutes when he fully participated and had a great time. I had J ask H about the lesson without me there so I could see what he'd say about it and sure enough his answer was "I was naughty." Although he did add, "I was playing tag and they didn't want to!"

Preschool for four year-olds here is not only not free...it's expensive. We're sending him this winter and everyone is holding the carrot out to me that he'll be so much better once he's in school, and that's when it hit me...I keep waiting for the thing that will make him "better" when what will make him that way is not going to be one Tae Kwon Do class or five months of pre-school. Sure, all of these things will help, but I realized that I've been going into all these situations; swim lessons, free play, museum adventures, with the idea that this will be it, instead of let's try this on for size and see how he likes it.

I have this kid who is so full of energy and enthusiasm, who loves life, and takes it on like a freight train. I love that about him. At the same time, I cringe at it. Mainly because of the way I feel like it reflects on me. As a stay-at-home mom, I've found that because I no longer have a career that defines or exemplifies my competence and achievement, I see H as my report card. Instead of encouraging him to be his very own person who needs to develop and learn his own lessons in his own way, I see every "it's just a phase" public display of willfulness as proof that I'm really shitty at my job.

I don't know how many times I've hear Miranda in my head saying "If we were dating, now is the time that we would break up!" That's certainly not how I want to feel about my child. The kiddo that my heart breaks for when his feelings get hurt because he's so sensitive, but so in-your-face, all-over-the-place that people take for granted that he's not. The one who can push my every last button and then say something that's so smart, and so funny, that I have to turn my head away to hide the laughter. How do you rectify the two?

We'll go back Monday and I'll swallow my preconceived notions of how it should be and just try to take it as it is.

Getting over yourself so that your kids can just be is so much easier in theory.