One of the things that makes my husband go absolutely nuts about this blogging thing is how I seem to have this bizarre need to tell the world EVERYTHING, including my mistakes and failures. He's a southern boy, you know, you're not supposed to share, well, anything really. You don't brag about your successes and you sure as hell don't talk about the failure.
Since I have no filters, I do both. And that's why I love having this blog. I love sharing the good and the bad. I love having a confidante in the internet, among people I've never met face to face, but whom may share in similar joys or maybe find solace in similar disasters. And so, I give you my most recent failure, cookies.
A little set up: tonight is our school carnival. For some reason, the 5th grade parents were asked to make treats to sell at the bake sale. And for some reason, instead of just going to the store and buying a friggin' box of bakery treats, I decided I could bake something extra-sugary special. My memory, it is short.
If you can't tell, and I'm fairly certain you can't, those are Darth Vadar shaped cookies. Or rather, they are supposed to be. For Christmas, my children bought me the Heroes and Villains Star Wars cookie set from William Sonoma. Cute, right?
Ladies and Gentlemen, that right there is Failure in a Box.
There's a couple of issues here. First of all, I can bake cookies. I make awesome fat, round yummy sugar cookies. I can ice them and put sprinkles on them. But I cannot make cut-out cookies. The roller never works, I always have to add too much flour, and these little Star Wars devils have so many intricate details they never set up right.
I also have a problem with intricate icing detail. See, I have a weird, neurological issue where my hands shake badly, all the time. It's inheirited, my mother has it too, and it's gotten worse as I've gotten older. I can't hold a teacup on a saucer over my lap while perched gingerly on a loveseat. Okay maybe that doesn't come up often, but what does is this: I can't take decent pictures, because I can't hold the camera still enough for it to focus correctly. I can't draw or cut clean clean lines, and I sure as hell can't hold tightly and squeeze a pastry bag full of icing into a thin decorative line. And watching me try to do so is painful, it's like watching an elderly stroke patient try to put a spoonful of soup in their own mouth.
I'm not really joking on that. I just can't do it. It's not that noticeable most of the time, but it tends to freak people out when it happens, if they don't know me very well. But you should see it when I get nervous, like when I'm talking in front of a group of people onstage. Sometimes I address the congregation at church, and when the adrenaline hits, I shake so badly I can't even hold onto the microphone. It's awesome.
But I forget all this, for some reason. And so, this is what happens when I've been watching too much Martha Stewart and reading Design Sponge. I joke about being a slacker mom, but that's a defense mechanism. The truth is I want to be Suzy Freaking Homemaker so damn bad it hurts.
But I'm just not. I try, I fail. That's okay. I'm okay with it, most of the time. I happen to think failure is the best learning tool we have, as humans.
That's a Clone Trooper. Sigh.