I was running out of ideas for my upcoming posts, despite the holiday season that should find me building gingerbread houses with a piping bag in one hand and a smile on my face or baking elaborate snowman-shaped cookies in a happy, giggly cloud of flour. For a full and complete disclosure, I have never been this picture-ready holiday mom, and probably never will be. I am the least patient person on earth when it comes to family arts and crafts and gave up a long time ago on any kind of projects involving my children and anything needed to be made with my hands. I can’t even cut paper straight, let alone come up with any kind of fun pipe-cleaner-and-papier-mâché creations. The mere thought of those makes my skin crawl. For a few years when my daughter was a toddler, I did buy one of those gingerbread house kits that we only had to put together, but even that proved to be a challenge. The frosting was never the right texture and not the strong glue it was expected to be, the cookie walls didn’t stick together, the jellybeans did not stick to the walls, one child would cry in frustration and I would literally throw in the apron and stomp out of the living room or kitchen, wherever we had decided to set up camp for this doomed enterprise. The result, invariably, was a mess.
There was a year when my second son was invited to a gingerbread-house-making party, which I thought was foolish on the part of the mom, but also an early Christmas present for me. It turned out it was a yearly family tradition and that my friend had started hosting those parties when her son was three years old. The thought of a dozen toddlers covered in white frosting and crumbled gingerbread façades was enough to send shudders down my spine. But it was also another humbling reminder that there are better humans than I am out there. Many of them, in fact. Not to mention better moms. But I didn’t resent her for this. On the contrary, I was eternally grateful that some mother somewhere, was this genuinely kind, patient, fun-oriented person who opened her doors to a screaming horde of boys every December and didn’t mind spending her weekend cleaning up debris on this self-inflicted battlefield.
All of this is to say that I am not sure if I will acquire a gingerbread-house kit this year. I did last year, as I happened upon one at a random grocery store. And the young woman who was helping me with school pick-ups was brave enough to supervise the construction process and get me off the hook. But those kits are not ubiquitous in Paris the way there were in New York. And as should be clear by now, this is fine with me. Regarding the seemingly obligatory holiday cookie workshop, I think I only ever held one, a couple of years ago. We skipped last year, as I told myself we had just moved, and I still needed to recover – I told myself this about a lot of things around the holidays last year. Including the cards I’m not sure I will ever send again, now that I missed one year and survived. This time I’m not sure what kind of excuse I can come up with, but we are indeed invited to a holiday cookie party this coming Saturday afternoon. And even though it will be a tasting party and not a baking one, I’m thinking it might be just enough for my boys – and definitely for me.
What will be left, then, if I renege on these most sacred motherhood commitments? Well, this is definitely lazier and most passively consumerist, but I have decided to just enjoy the little things that come my way this season. It could be a simple affogato or an Irish Coffee, that I wouldn’t need to prepare. It could be, like I did a couple of days ago, buying a Panettone that I’m sure no one in my family will eat, because they never do. But this time it will be a pistachio- cream-filled panettone with no candied fruit, which is a winner in my book. As much as I love the idea of Christmas-y traditional fruit brioches or puddings, I do not enjoy their taste, no matter how hard I try to convince myself that I should. I never liked candied fruit and orange peel taste in anything, I am very sorry to admit. So, this pistachio Panettone made my day. I had two generous slices yesterday morning for breakfast, when everybody had left the house, and THAT was holiday heaven to me. A silent and deserted kitchen, the morning news on the radio, no matter how discouraging these days. My hot coffee, the panettone, my sparkly, fuzzy slippers. It could not get better this season, and, I am convinced, nobody needs to try harder than this.
So, what are other things I am looking forward to this winter, without needing to try hard, without needing to do any work at all, in fact? The thought came to me after I finished my Panettone, when I saw an email from my beloved French coaching fairy, encouraging us to do just that if we want to land into the new year unscathed, and even happy. To collect small treasures all through the season, as in a personal Winter treasure hunt. What are the little gems that you will be hunting for this December?
Many of these treasures are already there right in front of you and do not require spending any money or energy. Channel your inner Judy Andrews and make sure you collect a few of your favorite thingsthis December.
Here are some my mine:
My daughter’s delight when she saw the tree in our living room yesterday.
The Christmas penguin earrings she started wearing last week, giving me reassurance that part of her is still a little girl, after all.
Her shrieks of delight when she opens a new box of her Body Shop Advent calendar in the morning.
The empty boxes in the chocolate-filled Advent calendar I got for my 15-year-old son. He is most definitely too old for the fabric ones I fill with candy and trinkets for his siblings, but he is quietly eating the chocolate every day, and I know that this is incredibly silly of me to even buy the stupid calendar, but it just makes me happy.
The golden jackets currently being worn by the Bon Marché employees and the bad Christmas show we happened upon in the store last weekend. My daughter’s and seven-year-old son’s delight at said show. My daughter telling me that Paris isn’t so bad, after all, if it can be demonstrated that Parisians know how to celebrate Christmas properly.
The silly Christmas-themed drinking glasses I purchased on a whim last week because I just couldn’t resist. I must buy a silly new Christmas ornament or piece of décor every year, and this year that was it.
The Ferrero Rocher I allow myself with my afternoon tea these days. Yes, I know, Ferrero Rocher. When I am surrounded by more fine chocolate stores than one could ever dream of. But I love these Nutella-filled chocolate-coated wafers I can get at any Franprix across the street. And have been slightly annoyed with the number of fancy chocolate stores in Paris. Because, who has the time, and the money? Apparently, some people do, I’m sure, but I am not one of them.
Foie gras. It is officially the season of foie gras, and I couldn’t be happier. I know it is controversial in the U.S. and hated by many of you. But for me, nothing says Christmas like foie gras, and being able to order some from any restaurant in Paris is one of my not-so-secret joys. I struggled so much to feel happy here last year. The least one can do is to grant me this guilty pleasure.
The same goes with anything chestnut-filled and involving crème de marrons – the sweetened, vanilla-flavored chestnut puree that the French put in absolutely everything. It even comes in a 1-euro tubethat you can squeeze onto toast, yogurt, crème fraiche, you name it. I haven’t made anything with it yet, but I will. And if I don’t make it, I will buy it. Come to think of it, I should probably make a trip to Angelina and get myself a Mont-Blanc very soon. How could I even forget this? Next week is my birthday and I will make sure to treat myself properly. Meringue and whipped cream, topped with crème de marrons vermicelli. What could go wrong? Absolutely nothing.
That’s it for now, I think. But I will keep hunting for new treasures, and I encourage you to do the same. Any way you can keep sadness at bay if you ever experience it at this time of year. As I did, and most certainly will, at some point. It’s ok. There is always coffee, chocolate, foie gras, and chestnut cream. Not to forget children’s laughter, whether they are your own children or not. If you have no children around, try to find a child in you. I promise you it’s there, in the waiting. This season, get this child exactly what he/she/they might want, and in the middle of all the madness, try to make him/her/them happy. I promise you will be rewarded.
Comments