Okay, so this is what I did this morning (while it was still dark out, I might add)...
What do you mean, "What is it?!"
It's a winterized/Christmas-infused/fa-la-la-la-la angel food cake, of course!
Now, don't you feel just plain ridiculous?
... I'm not sure how I feel about the fact that the majority of my baking endeavors end up looking like a 1st grader's cooking project (you know, when Mom's not looking). It's... charming in its own way, right? Maybe? Presentation aside, I'm sure it'll be tasty. How could it not be with all the abundance of love I put into it, not to mention the obscene amount of sugar I blessed it with?! It's Christmas. Anything goes at Christmas. The more sparkles, sprinkles and color the better, says I.
Speaking of colors and shimmery things, can I just say how amazingly blessed I am? At night, when I'm awakened by the baby moving, my aching legs or my husband's snoring, I can't help but recognize how gracious and giving God has been with me. There is nothing that I have done to warrant such extravagant love. I feel so undeserving of my cute, warm, little house. Of my husband who is seriously the best guy for me; who is everything I never knew I always wanted.
For my family, for our friends, for new life being created and formed within two of my best friends, for our own son who is arriving in less than 100 days (ohmygoodnessIamnotready!)... The list goes on and on. When you start counting your blessings, it's a never-ending trail. There's always one more thing... one more moment where God has saved you from yourself or from what could have been a tragic incident. I have many of these. I bet you do, too.
On other notes, we are probably going to stay in this evening, lay low and be simple. My husband has mentioned an elaborate dinner of KFC which is perfectly fine by me. We'll sit in our living room, watch the start of A Christmas Story marathon on TBS, munch on our original recipe chicken legs and wings and unwrap the gifts we've excitedly wrapped for one another. It may not be as exciting as some think it should be, but it's our night. It's our time. To each his own, right? So hard to believe that at this time next year we will have a little butterball, our 9 month old son, here in our midst...
And you know what? I bet he'll love my 1st grade cooking skills. I bet he'll look on my creations with wonder and amazement (as only young eyes can do). I guess that's the point. I guess that's where I try to remain... in that state of bright-eyed and bushy-tailed-ness that has more to do with delighting in the moment rather than judging it or making comparisons.
I've just watched the tail end of White Christmas and for the first time, I have bawled my eyes out while watching this holiday classic. The part with the General gets me every time, but never like this. Course, I've never been pregnant before while watching this movie, so maybe that's it... *sniff*
Merry Christmas to all!
"So they hurried off and found Mary and Joseph,
and the baby, who was lying in the manger.
When they had seen him, they spread the word concerning
what had been told them about this child, and all who
heard it were amazed at what the shepherds said to them.
But Mary treasured up all these things
and pondered them in her heart.
The shepherds returned, glorifying and
praising God for all the things
they had heard and seen, which
were just as they had been told."
~ Luke 2:16-20