In an attempt to put a stop to Noah and Riley arguing, I invited them to help me make sugar cookies. Success! They stopped arguing over trivial things and were completely, 100% engaged in the cookie making process. Fortunately, they did not want the same cookie cutter, because that would have been problematic. Noah was the gingerbread cut-out and Riley was the star.

“Mommy’s job is to flatten the dough. Once I flatten the dough, you can cut your cookie with the cookie cutter.”  I only wish I didn’t have to flatten the dough with the palm of my hand and a glass cup. My mother probably has three rolling pins, and I have zilch when it comes to rolling pins. Oh well, nobody here seems to care that the cookie making process is more laborious than it needs to be.

“Now, Mom?” questioned Riley.

“Not yet,” I respond.

“Now?”

“Go for it, the dough is ready.”

Clean little hands went to work cutting cookies in the shape of stars and gingerbread. The assembly-line process worked pretty well. They cut the cookies and I was in charge of placing each cut-out on the cookie tray.

“Oh man, my gingerbread doesn't have an arm.” Commented Noah. When the cookies started to lose limbs, it was my turn to flatten more dough.

“That’s it. Now it is my turn to deal with the dough again.” I began the laborious dough flattening process all over again and the kids hovered. They were watching and waiting for the moment they could use their cookie cutters again.

“Now, Mom?” they both asked.

“Go for it. Now it is your turn.” I said. The cookie cutting process went on like this all night. We made a mess in the kitchen. The kids laughed and giggled with each other. Dean was mesmerized by the kids and how good they were at making cut-out cookies. The only thing I would change is to use a rolling pin next time to flatten the dough. Maybe I can sneak one of my mom’s rolling pins in my suitcase next time I visit.