Sometimes, Food Really Is the Same as Love

My great-great Grandmother Schneider emigrated from Germany to America

over one hundred years ago.

Like all immigrants, she didn't carry much with her

but the clothes on her back

and the information in her head.

In the Schneider family, winter meant sugar cookies.

The recipe traveled from Germany with my great-great Grandmother.

Family legend holds that my great-Grandmother discovered

that the children ate more of these sugar cookies when she frosted and decorated them.

(And being German, we very much want the children to EAT.)

My Nana learned that children will help bake and decorate the cookies

if doing so was a condition for getting to eat them

(Or, famously, "If you don't help, you don't eat.")

My father learned that if one disregards the called-for amount of vanilla

and instead just pours in a whole darn bottle,

the cookies are much richer and tastier.

I learned that if one replaces the called-for margarine with

(probably the originally called-for) real butter, the result is richer and tastier still.

In 2009, are these cookies different from the day they made the trip over from Germany?

Sure.

Are they that much more delicious?

Absolutely.

For all their changes and embellishments,

these are, more than ever,

the Schneider family cookies.

Very much different from the original

for the frosting, vanilla, and real butter, yes,

but they are ten times that rich

for the generations of love and care that was poured into making them.

Personally, I can't imagine any way to make these cookies any more delectable.

But I'll guarantee you that my boys will -

and this is only the beginning.

Sometimes You Just Need a Little Recharge

Rami is our snuggler.

He plays along with the best of them -

rough-and-tumbling his way all through the house

right along with his big brother -

but every few minutes,

he'll head over to Abba or Ima

and lay his head on a shoulder

for a little recharge of love.

There's no particular reason that,

at that moment,

he's in need of a snuggle.

But it fixes him right up

and off he goes again

to make some more mischief.

(That is, until the next recharge.)

Even though it doesn't happen as often as every few minutes for grownups,

I think we are all in need of a recharge sometimes.

Winter break has been a chance for me to spend more quality time with the boys.

I've also been suffering through an acute bout of writer's block.

(And photographer's...something-or-other.)

But we've still been taking photos

and making magic.

So stay tuned for stories from all our December adventures...

as soon as we're all finished recharging.

Baby Shoes

On Friday,

after a beautiful morning

of rough-and-tumble playing with Rami,

I noticed that

his shoes have holes in the toes.

These shoes do not belong to him alone,

they first belonged to his brother.

We first put them on each of the boys

in order to ensure that their socks stayed on.

As my grandmother, Gram, cradled a two-month-old Asher,

she taught me,

"If you keep their feet warm, honey,

that'll go a long way."

(That is the wisest piece of parenting advice I've ever received.)

So on the shoes went, keeping two sets of toes (my absolute favorite baby part, hands down) toasty warm.

Later, their tops were mercilessly dragged along the ground

by not one, but two, expert crawlers.

The soles were the next to be worn out by two sets of first steps,

not much farther than a year apart.

And now, as Rami becomes an expert walker,

gaining speed daily,

learning to stop, pivot, restart,

relying less and less on couches, tables, and our legs to anchor him,

these soft-soled baby shoes have walked their last steps.

I can't really explain

why I've devoted an entire blog post to these well-worn scraps of leather.

It's just that...

They kept those precious toes warm and safe

for the better part of two years.

A daily part of the boys' babyhood has now left us.

And I didn't even see it coming.

Does Asher Have a Future in Coaching?

A recent walking training session with Rami: