Doing vs. Being in the holiday season

I always have this holiday vision.  Not of sugarplums dancing in my head.  Wouldn't know a sugarplum if it rang my door anyway.  Rather I dream of having a cutesy gingerbread house and perfectly decorated sugar cookies.  And every year I fall far short of my expectations.  This year is no exception.

There I was searching for the perfect gingerbread house template online.  Something simple and small.  I found a basic one but was afraid I didn't have enough dough for the dimensions.  So I cut down the paper templates a bit and reduced the slope of the roof.  I was calling up old middle school geometry wisdom and modeling my paper cut-outs for size. 

Then I rolled out the dough after letting J have a go at it first.  I cut out my templates rather approximately and removed some dough for windows and doors, too.  Then it was in the oven for 10 minutes followed by cooling on a plate.

Meanwhile J had found my iPad and was "liking" things on my Facebook account without me knowing.  Perhaps even liking my own posts and passing me off as a narcissist.  That's when I realized I had been going about this all wrong.  Plus she told me the Charley Brown Christmas music I had put on was "sad."  And though I normally love the 60s jazz myself, I had to admit it was perhaps not always so joyous for today's seven-year olds.  

So since I had my main pieces cut, I let J roll out and cut cookies to her heart's content with the remaining dough.  She's come a long way since her three-year old self.  At seven she proclaimed herself an "artist" as she expertly cut out her snowflakes and angels.  And I switched iTunes to my Bollywood's greatest hits album.  We were improvising Bollywood dances while the cookies cooked.

Once the house pieces had cooled, I used my royal icing to start assembling the gingerbread house.  Two side pieces, stable.  But all four walls and the roof, err, not happening.  Total cave in. 

I tried saving the structure, reconstructing, bracing.  But my front piece with the door now had a crack and J was seriously doubting my architectural skills.  I had to laugh.  I started eating one part of the roof and just used the remaining piece for a flat roof.  At least it tasted good.

But this is just another example of me aiming high and falling low.  And often ignoring the most important thing: spending time with my daughter and having fun.  We did end up having fun but not before my perfectionist tendancies nearly made me scrap the whole thing.

It's the old battle between doing and being.  I get so absorbed in "to do" lists and think that everything will be great when that list is done.  And I often forget to have fun while "doing."  In the holiday season we seem to have so many more things to "do".  Or "make."   

Make pastries for the school Christmas market, for colleagues or students.  Do the Christmas shopping, of course. Make Christmas meals and organize visits.  Do the decorating of the house just so.  Do the caroling or church events.  And while all of these things can bring joy and fulfillment, I mustn't forget what I need to "be" this season.

I need to Be Generous.  Not just by buying presents.  Anyone with a credit card can do that.  I need to be generous in my words, in my acts, more forgiving of my husband, child and myself.  Be generous to those outside my inner circle: charities, the homeless.

I need to Be Cozy.  With all that "doing" and "making" I forget that some couch time and holiday movies or reading are also great soul food.  Relaxing with my family, That's more important than a perfect house, and heaven knows I'll never get that anyway.

I need to Be Present.  If I keep telling my little girl, just a minute, hold on a sec, I'm not being with her and enjoying the moment.  It's such a balancing act being a mom anyway, but I need to just be there for her and put aside some of the things on my list.

And that goes for me, too. I need to Be Here Now and enjoy the season instead of waiting for everything to be perfect to feel contentment.

So my gingerbread house wasn't perfect this year.  But after a day the royal icing had cemented the structure well.  We kept decorating together the next day (to Echosmith on youtube, this time).  I put the frosting on the candies and she placed them.  I added a chimney. 

It's an improvement on my gingerbread ghetto a few years ago.  Maybe an Alabama gingerbread barn that is in need of repair.  There are chinks where the light comes through this house.  But it's not too bad and I hope it has made some nice holiday memories for Juliette.  And in a week we can look forward to eating it while we're being cozy and chilling.

To be honest, I will still keep my "to do" list and hopefully get some of the things actually done on it.  But I will also keep in mind my "to be" list and try to maintain that precious balance.

So friends and family, Be Kind to yourself and others this holiday season and I'll try to do the same!

Things you only see in France

Thank you, smartphone, for giving me the ability to snap pictures anywhere anytime.  Otherwise you, dear readers, wouldn't believe me when I told you what I have been seeing around here.  To be honest, some of these things you might see in Belgium as well, or in Europe in general.

1. Priority on the right signs.  Truly the bane of my existence since I learned to drive in France.  When you see this sign it means you have to slow down because the side street on the right has the priority. I've had many a near-miss because of this rule.  I wish they'd just put a stop sign instead.

2. Tintin slippers.  It may have been a Steven Spielberg production, but Tintin and this captain character featured on the slippers are much more popular in Europe.  It is from a comic book series.  I don't know too many grown men in the US sporting these.  They'd probably prefer Homer Simpson.

 3. Speaking of men's apparel, French guys are not afraid to wear frilly scarves.  Just check out all these scarf and shirt/jacket pairings in the men's section in Monoprix, an upscale grocery store.  It's not just a metrosexual thing here.  I dare you to show me one Alabama boy wearing this style.

With a manly leather jacket.

I swear this was in the men's section.

Fresh summer sailor look.

4. Women of a certain age (as the French expression goes) might wear one of these smocks for cleaning.  You might see a lady cleaning her front stoop and pouring out the soapy water in this type of apron.

 5.   Here's a pun you can't make in English.  "Bio" is the abbreviation for "biologique" meaning organic.  This is an organic cotton shirt so the designers went with a punny expression.

6. People lining up to buy lottery tickets on Friday the 13th.  This is a newsstand that sells lottery tickets in the grocery store shopping center.  In France this day is considered lucky by many.  In the US it's associated with horror movies and bad luck. Since I recently had a fender bender on Friday the 13th, I'm thinking my American side must be winning (or should I say losing) out.

 7. Micro-sidewalks.  Two people can barely walk on this.  Don't even try pushing a stroller!  The two lines of brick in the middle are actually the gutter.

8. Microcars. My sister called these "baby cars" when she first came to visit me in  2003.  I still have to stop and stare at them sometimes. These particular ones are called "voitures sans permis" which means you don't need a license to drive them.  They must be easy to park, at least!

 9. April Fool's fish?!  Juliette was busy Tuesday night cutting out and decorating paper fish to put on the back of her unwitting classmates and teachers with a little piece of scotch tape.  When people tell you a fake story on April 1st it's called a "poisson d'avril," literally an April fish.  Maybe like a "fish story"?  Bakeries will also make a sweet flaky pastry in the shape of a fish for this day.

10. Food trucks that sell "French" hamburgers.  For all their love of using English words and even opening retro-themed diners, the French always want to have the last word regarding food.  I guess that's why this "food truck" wants to specify that their burgers are "français", oui, merci!  Whatever that means exactly.

And one more for the road... probably my pet peeve as an English teacher: the misuse of apostrophes.  The French do it to seem more English.  But it just ends up looking very French.  I guess it's their revenge for us making all those "Le bag" bags in the 80s.