An attempt to remember the things (big and small) that matter most

I remember vividly driving over a bridge in Charleston in college: the wind swirling in around me from my open window, the smell of the marsh, the sun setting on my old red Ford station wagon "Eugena", sticky from dried sunscreen mixed with sand and sweat, and Natalie Merchant blaring "These are days to remember.." I thought, "These are the days I have lived for". It was sheer bliss.
Now, fast forward some years. I am a wife. I am a mother of 3. I live in Tennessee, via Alabama. So much has happened! So many sweet moments have passed through the years...but I really can't remember a lot of them. I gave up scrap booking with my dating relationships. I only journal when I'm sad (please remember this if I die and you find them..) or it moments of resolution. I take millions of pictures for my online album but rarely print them. And all the special "keepsakes" of my married life with children are thrown into rubbermaid containers (they are, at least, labeled). My only record of the funny things my kids say and do, insights discovered, or how the Lord has "connected the dots" in life, is found on my Facebook status. That. Is. Pathetic.
And thus, here is my record. A lame attempt (I am not a good writer, witty nor wise) to record the adventures found in the chaos of life. My goal is not so much that it be worth reading (especially by those who don't know me) but rather that it be remembered by a mom blessed by much, and still can't remember the grocery list to take to the store.

Tuesday, September 16, 2014

Cookie Tuesday- How it came to be


So, I know I haven't written anything in a LONG TIME.  Let's just say that I'm using all my words up in real life and don't have the time or mental capacity to blog anything, let alone write a thank you note (all overdue) or share anything( forget the pressure of saying something PROFOUND)...I can't do that. I spend my time "applying" for jobs, pretending I'm Cinderella, running carpools, and googling how to do 6th grade math (confirmation that I was a Music Therapy major). But so many people have asked about Cookie Tuesday, I decided to sit down for an hour and explain it- as best as I can remember... 

It all started with the hate of ballet tights. Might seem to be strange statement as I explain Cookie Tuesday, but that IS how it all began.
           
            It was 2008 (I think?) and my oldest had started taking ballet classes with a friend. They would come home from school, put on the most precious pink tights and leotard, tiny ballet shoes, get their hair in a bun (or ponytail). The first few weeks it was nothing but excitement. But then came the “tight resistance”.  It was the new weekly meltdown that came with the “let’s get on your tights”. Sitting down on the floor, gathering up the tights to first slip them over the feet, gradually pulling up the legs, and then the ultimate ‘pull them up’, often lifting her off the ground to get them ON. It only took about a month and a half of this madness to see that something would have to be done to make this whole experience more tolerable.

     
       So, then came cookies. Yep, a bribe- sort of.  “Get ready for Ballet, and there will be fresh, homemade cookies for snack before you go”. And, yes, it did work. My typical outlook of “how can we find/make something good about this?” was cookies. And it was an easy fix at that. I grew up baking cookies. My brothers both can make cookies. My mom baked cookies, and she always said, “If you’re going to make the effort to make a batch, you might as well double it”. So I made cookies, and I doubled the batch. So I had a lot of cookies left after the 6 year olds went off to ballet.

            Enter Mr. Jim, our neighbor from down the street. Hands down the nicest man you’ll ever meet. And every Tuesday afternoon, he would bring our trashcan up from the street...and then, he smelled cookies. Needless to say, Jim became a regular for cookies. He became, in fact, the cookie accountability authority. He made sure that cookies would be made and was usually the first person to try them each week.  If for some reason we had an off week, Jim would tease me mercilessly, until I started keeping a few bags in the freezer for the off weeks.
           
            But I still had all these cookies...So we started sending some to school each week to my kid’s teachers, and taking plates to the neighbors close by.  And after a few weeks I decided just taking cookies wasn’t really very neighborly or communal, so I started inviting them to pop in for some with milk after school.  Soon the kid’s friends realized there were cookies being made on Tuesdays, and a few would stop by. Some would have their mom’s bring them, and then the moms and I would visit while they ate cookies and ran around the backyard.

            I think it was about then I had my first “ah ha moment” and realized the blessing and beauty of this opportunity for community. Kids playing, moms talking and connecting, neighbors dropping in. And I didn’t MAKE it happen, it just happened. There wasn’t stress of “entertaining”, to have my house clean, to make some official event. People came to BE together, to visit, process through and laugh at life, take a break from the madness...and eat cookies.  I just made cookies that I was craving (still my breakfast for the next day) and had milk. And people came. It was, I realized, a beautiful picture of life as it can/should be.



       
 My husband changed position in his job, placing him back into the realm of “youth culture”. We had lived this before, and LOVED it (for me, maybe a little too much). It was his hope we would once again unite in ministering to middle school and high school students. The only difference now was I was finally aware of “my own people” aka MY children that needed my primary time, attention and emotional investment. Thus, my logical solution was to open up Cookie Tuesday to the teenagers as well- Like having your cookie and eating it too, right? Ha! I went from making my recipe x4 (we were far past the doubling amount) to making the recipe x8! THAT is a lot of butter, and lots of milk to drink with those cookies. But the organized chaos continued to be a blessing, as the “big kids” would play with the “little kids”, meaningful conversations were happening, relationships made/strengthened and most of all, IT WAS SO FUN! There were all shapes, sizes, ages, stages of people from school, church, the neighborhood all together and it was lovely. Even as I think back to it now, I see snapshots of kids running, teenagers clumping, mama’s sitting, and even hear some music being played over it like a scene in a movie. Did I mention, it was chaos? Because it was that too. Toys were scattered everywhere in the house and outside, milk was spilled, cookie ground into the carpet, things got broken, kids needed refereeing at times, but even that was worth it. We are all a glorious mess, and this was a glimpse of the mess redeemed.



     Turn the page. In a rather quick transition, including selling our house and living with my best friend for 5 months, we found ourselves in Franklin, Tennessee just outside of Nashville- new house, new neighborhood, new church, new school, new everything. And yet the first question asked as school was about to start from my kids: would we still have Cookie Tuesday, even here? It was then I realized it had become a connecting point, an opportunity for hospitality, and a way to “love on people” for the kids. It wasn’t just a tradition anymore, it was now a calling. They saw the value in having time to talk, to share the joys, sorrows and challenges, do homework together, to run around and play, and of course eat cookies as a means of “loving people, places and things to life”.




           And so, we made cookies. The first few weeks, it was just us, and the cookie recipe was just doubled. But slowly, kids started knocking at the door, people would pop in for “just a minute”, mom’s started coming with their toddlers to be able to have a conversation with an adult and have a cup of coffee. And so it begins again. Sometimes, there are only a handful come, other weeks, we are pulling out all the secret cookie plate reserves. My house still isn’t too clean, there is still milk spilled, cookies ground into the floor, and all sorts of bugs in the house from the doors being left open as kids run in and out. But there are also kids doing Math at the dining room table, the trampoline has (too many) laughing kids on it, toy trucks are being driven and airplanes are flying, musical instruments are being played, and it is the most beautiful sound of love and life imaginable. I don't know how long it will last, months, years... it's yet to be seen. As long as people are coming, there will be cookies to eat.  Making cookies is a privilege, a small way to reflect and share the Goodness and Greatness in life to anyone that wants to join in. Come on by, or grab one to go most Tuesdays from 3-5pm. The flavor of the day is always posted on my facebook/instagram. We'll just be glad you came!




And all because my daughter hated wearing tights.

No comments:

Post a Comment