The Beginning of The Buns

Christmas was yesterday. Going through my pictures of Christmas I found some cute ones: ones to organize and send out to the "Andrew Fan Club". And I also found this one. I love this picture. I love bread dough and how smooth and soft it is. I made this dough the night of Christmas Eve for the Cranberry Cinnamon Buns that we ate Christmas morning. At this point, I was still sort of holding my breath. Wondering how this Christmas would be. My parents always made Christmas perfect for us. It was magical. It really was. It seemed like time stopped for everyone, just so we could have this magical day. Everything was perfect, steeped in tradition, you knew what was coming and that made it all the better. More to look forward to.

But now I am the mother. I am the magic maker. Oddly, this is not a transition I was expecting. I just kept expecting to RECEIVE the magic. But, now that Andrew is old enough to appreciate the magic (at least some of it), I need to deliver. I know that I am suppose to say that it is better to give than receive....and that giving gifts and cinnamon buns to my son is more fun than receiving gifts and cinnamon buns, but I'm not there yet.

So, today, I breathe a huge sigh of relief. I didn't do as good a job as my parents did for me. And time didn't stop or anything, like I remember it stopping....but I feel like I made some Christmas Progress. Christmas was fine. Andrew had a blast. Dave and I are establishing our own traditions, and still sorting out how our family will celebrate. So, I am hoping that next year, I won't be holding my breath all season, wondering how it will go. The territory will be more familiar. One step closer to giving magic to my son. And one step closer to feeling comfortable in the magic maker role.

As for the Cinnamon Buns, there are still some left if anyone wants to join me for tea later.