Stockings, sweet and simple

Every Christmas, Matt, the boys and I look forward to the tradition of hanging our stockings along the fireplace mantel in our family room. For all of us, the stockings themselves hold as much meaning as the special little gifts that will be spilling from their tops on Christmas morning. They are a familiar, heartwarming sight that remind us of all the joyful moments we've shared together in Christmas seasons past.

I have always had a fondness for homemade Christmas stockings. My mom sewed ones for my brothers and I, my dad, and herself when we three kids were young, and I can still remember how happy I felt seeing those lovingly made socks hanging all together in a row over the holidays. I am definitely not gifted in the sewing department myself, however when Noah was very small I was able to take some plain red pre-made stockings from a craft store and turn them into something more special and personal with some simple craft supplies and techniques.

Our four stockings are cheerily embellished with Christmas-y shapes that I cut out freehand from craft store felt squares, plus mini pom-poms, glittery fabric paint, and a felt-tipped marker. If you aren't comfortable cutting out your own shapes, you can trace simple Christmas pictures from cards, puzzles or colouring books onto paper and use those as templates for cutting out your felt. Fasten all embellishments to the stocking with hot glue to make sure they will stay securely. For me, making stockings was a fun craft project that has been much appreciated by my favourite boys.





I hope that your stockings and your holidays are filled with whatever makes your heart happy. Wishing you all a very Merry Christmas!

Gifts from the heart

Christmas is just over a week away, and everywhere I go the excitement of the season is palpable in the air. I'm not sure who is more anxious for Christmas to arrive in our house: the boys, who are eagerly waiting to see what Santa will bring them this year, or I, who will love to see the looks on their faces when they discover their Christmas morning surprises! For many of us, this season is a joyful, magical time of year, a time for sharing gifts and special moments with loved ones, a time for lighting up the darkness of winter with laughter and celebration. It's also a time to remember that there are many people around us for whom Christmas is not so joyful, and that in the midst of all of our giving to those we love, we must also give to those who truly need us.

It's difficult for children who are growing up in a very comfortable life to have any real understanding of what it feels like to go without, either physically or emotionally. Matt and I think it's important, however, to try to give the boys some sense of this, especially at this time of year when it is more easily obvious to them how abundant their own blessings are. We look for opportunities to give to people or creatures in need and make sure, now that the boys are older, that they play an active role in that giving. They may be still too young to make a profound difference in the world, but there are many things that they can do: shopping for new books (some of their own favourites) to bring to a local Christmas book drive, donating a part of their allowance to a charity, making catnip toys and bringing them to the local animal shelter (thanks, Mom, for this wonderful idea!), or being a good friend to someone who is sad at holiday time due to a difficult family situation. With each chance they have to help someone, we talk with the boys about what their "gift" means and how happy it will make the recipient. I think their part in helping others makes the boys feel happy too.

The other day when Will was bringing some canned and boxed goods to school for the holiday food drive, he wondered aloud to me whether the hungry children in a distant poverty-stricken country would even like the kind of cereal we have here. He thought the school was sending the food to a far-off land where there are many people in need, and was shocked to know that there are people right in our own community who don't have enough to eat. I absolutely didn't fault him for his understanding of the situation, but it made me realize that we still have some more work to do to help open up the boys' eyes to the fact that there is hardship and sadness right around us, if we take the time to look. I hope someday they will realize that while it is wonderful to have a mountain of presents under the Christmas tree, the most meaningful gifts of all are the ones that we give from the heart.

The first big snow

I was out and about running errands today, and everywhere I went, adults were commenting glumly about the snow and the cold that the weekend had brought us. When I arrived at the boys' school to pick them up at the end of the day, I saw groups of parents huddled up miserably against the school wall to try and avoid the bone-chilling winds, looking uncomfortably cold despite their warm winter attire. It was a rather dreary sight, and I was anxious for the boys to come out of the building so we could go hibernate for the rest of the day in our warm, cozy house.

The mood suddenly changed when the bell rang and scores of children came running out of the school doors. There was no way a little (okay, a lot of) cold was going to stop them from enjoying themselves fully in the fascinating world of white they had watched through the classroom windows all afternoon. Children in multi-coloured snowsuits rolled everywhere and chased each other, laughing, through the drifts. It was impossible not to smile watching them.

Noah and Will begged me to let them stay out and play when we got home, and I had a chance to see the snow differently than I had all day. Instead of it being an obstacle to getting around town, or a mountain that required shovelling, the snow became something lovely that transformed our yard into a new and exciting playground. The boys spent an hour out there, completely oblivious to the frigid temperature; they were sliding gleefully down the incline at the back of our yard, laying in laughing heaps when they tumbled off of their sleds, and playing in the frosty flakes with complete abandon like children do. I think we adults would do well to remember the pure and simple joy of the first real snow days of our childhood winters, and make an effort to get out and play more often. The beaming faces of my two boys outside today made it seem impossible that snow could ever make anyone feel grumpy.








When Noah and Will came inside late this afternoon, they were still giddy, and their cheeks and noses were a shocking bright red from the biting, chilly air. However, all three of our hearts were filled with a happy warmth, one I want to hold on to throughout the long, cold winter ahead.

Gingerbread cookies times two

When I was little, my mom used to make the most wonderful gingerbread cookies at Christmas time. She must have spent hours rolling dough, cutting out boys and girls, baking them, and painstakingly decorating them better than any gingerbread people I have ever seen since -- they all had unique faces, hair, and intricately striped and polka-dotted clothes made from different coloured icings. It was truly a labour of love on her part, and one she continued unfailingly, even after my brother Frank, before leaving for school, once secretly ate a good part of the batch she had made for his class, and even after our dog ate all the gingerbreads she could reach from the bottom half of the Christmas tree. (Many years later, Frank has confessed that he and our brother Jamie may have helped the dog eat those gingerbreads too!) Obviously, the cookies were a real favourite with my brothers and I, and when I think about the happy Christmases of my childhood, I will always remember that very special treat.

It was important to me to continue the gingerbread cookie tradition once I had children of my own. However, after one Christmas of attempting to decorate the sweet boys and girls with icing details, I decided from then on I would find other ways to show my boys I love them! I had neither the talent nor the patience of my mom for the intricate icing work. We decorate our cookies more simply now, and they're not as fantastic as my mom's were, but Noah and Will love their job of adding the embellishments to each ginger person's outfit. This is the traditional recipe I've used for many years; it always yields yummy, kid-friendly results.

3 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
1 tsp baking powder
1 tsp baking soda
2 tsp ground ginger
1 tsp ground cloves
1 tsp ground cinnamon
1 tsp ground allspice
1 cup packed brown sugar
1/2 cup butter, softened
3/4 cup molasses
1 or 2 eggs

In a large mixing bowl, combine dry ingredients and mix thoroughly. Add in butter, molasses and egg(s) and mix until completely blended. Cover and refrigerate dough for 45 minutes.
Preheat oven to 350 F. Roll dough to 1/4 inch thick on a lightly floured surface. Cut dough into boy and girl shapes with cookie cutters. Decorate cutouts with mini m&ms or other goodies.
Place cookies on a lightly greased cookie sheet about 2" apart. Bake for 10 to 15 minutes or until golden brown. Let cool and serve.


I was thrilled last year to discover a recipe for gluten-free gingerbread cookies made from almond flour over at Elana's Pantry. This meant that Will could still enjoy a version of his favourite holiday treat in spite of his newly discovered food sensitivities. These gingerbreads are absolutely delicious -- sweet and chewy and full of spicy goodness. I made a few modifications to Elana's recipe to accommodate our needs and tastes.

5 cups blanched almond flour
1 tbsp cinnamon
2 tsp ground ginger
1/2 tsp ground cloves
1/2 tsp ground allspice
1/2 tsp sea salt
1/2 tsp baking soda
1/2 cup grapeseed oil
1/2 cup agave nectar
1 tbsp vanilla extract
1/2 cup yacon syrup (I couldn't find this ingredient, so I substituted another 1/2 cup of agave nectar instead and the cookies turned out beautifully.)
2 eggs (If egg allergies are a concern, you can substitute 2 tbsp of arrowroot powder in the dry ingredients and 6 tbsp water in the wet ingredients instead.)
1 tsp lemon zest (optional)

In a large bowl, combine almond flour, spices, salt and baking soda. In a smaller bowl, mix together grapeseed oil, agave, vanilla, yacon, eggs, and lemon zest. Stir wet ingredients into dry. Chill dough in freezer for 1 to 2 hours.
Roll out dough between two pieces of parchment paper to 1/4" thick. Remove top sheet of parchment paper and cut out cookies using cookie cutters. Decorate cut-outs with nuts and dried fruit.
Transfer cutouts with a spatula to a parchment-lined baking sheet. Bake at 350 F for 10 to 15 minutes. Cool and serve.


We used fruit juice sweetened dried cranberries to decorate our cookies, but you could also use raisins, almond slivers, or pieces of dried citrus rind to add faces and fashions to your gingerbread people.

With some helping hands yesterday, I finished baking all of our gingerbread cookies for this season. We're looking forward to the upcoming days when we'll enjoy them with a cup of hot cocoa after an afternoon of skating, or share them with family and friends who come to visit over the holidays. I know the little gingerbread people will continue to be part of happy holiday memories in our family for many Christmases to come.

Peas on Earth

One of my favourite things about decorating our home for the holidays is reliving fond memories of Christmas seasons past. Within each Christmas storage box I unpack is a treasure trove of special ornaments, CDs, and sweet little crafts handmade by the boys over the years, all of which remind me of people and stories I love. This week, when I came across the red berries I use for our dining room table centrepiece, I burst into laughter remembering a Will moment from last December. It's a cheerful little holiday tale I think is worth sharing.

Will has lots of priorities and important things to do in a day; eating is not one of them. After spending most of the family dinner time talking, singing, or asking questions most nights, he is often the very last one at the table. He sits and eventually works slowly away at his full plate of food while the rest of us clean up and are too occupied to pay much attention to him. One evening last December, we were living out this exact scenario, and Matt, Noah and I had already left the kitchen. Will was unusually quiet and we figured he had finally got down to the business of eating. When he decided he had had enough dinner, I glanced at his plate and noticed that surprisingly, he had eaten a very respectable amount of peas. I smiled at him, sent him off to play, and thought nothing more about it.

The next day I was working on a project at the dining room table when something strange caught my eye. There, in the midst of all the red berries in the table centrepiece, was a small but conspicuous green berry. Curious, I investigated further and discovered several clusters of the hard, shrivelled little green orbs. It suddenly dawned on me what had become of Will's peas the previous evening. It wasn't like he had just thrown spoonfuls of peas into the branches, either, hoping that they would never be noticed; he had actually taken the time to painstakingly thread each pea onto a wire in true Martha Stewart-esque fashion. I'm sure not even Martha ever thought of using peas as a festive decorating embellishment!


I wanted to have a serious talk with Will about what he had done with his peas, but I simply couldn't keep a straight face. (I also secretly admired his ingenuity in the absence of any dog he could feed his vegetables to.) Will was a little sheepish when I made him fess up, and I felt more than a little foolish for believing that he had actually eaten his peas. But it was Christmastime, and it was darn funny, and the story is now one we will remember and chuckle about every time the holiday season rolls around.

For all of you reading this, I hope this month is full of moments of laughter and joy shared with loved ones. Happy December!

Counting down to Christmas

Snow arrived in our corner of the world this weekend, and as the four of us watched the pretty little flakes swirling outside the window, our thoughts turned happily to Christmas. We spent most of yesterday decorating our home for the holiday season, and while Noah and Will are the ones who show their excitement the most, we're all looking forward to weeks filled with family and friends, surprises, delicious foods and cherished traditions.

One of our favourite ways of making the wait until Christmas Day a little easier on the boys is keeping a special calendar with them. About five years ago, I was inspired to create a calendar of our own after seeing some photos of beautiful and unique ones in a decorating magazine. I took an old bulletin board I had lying around, painted it red with white trim, attached ribbon to twenty-four little white baby socks, added numbers on them with silver glitter fabric paint, and used clear pushpins to attach the socks in rows on the board. While my calendar certainly didn't compare to the ones that had inspired me, I was pleased with the end result and the boys were thrilled to know that there were little treasures tucked in the socks for them, one for each day leading up to when Santa would arrive.


This year I noticed that the little white socks were growing tired looking, and I went out in search of a new idea for a Christmas countdown calendar, since both Noah and Will still eagerly anticipate its appearance every holiday season. I came across this charming little cottage calendar with numbered doors for each day, and decided to bring it home rather than making something new.


I have filled the space behind each door with fun surprises for the boys: Christmas shaped Silly Bandz, spinning tops, Santa card games, snowman erasers, Lego pieces, little squares of dark chocolate, peppermint candy and the like. I look forward to seeing their smiles each morning (beginning next week!) when they peek behind the day's door to discover their treasure.


When you're a child, waiting for Christmas can seem to take an eternity! Having a little calendar like this at home gives young ones something to look forward to every day while waiting for the special one when Santa will finally arrive.

Food frustration

I have always had a hard time with the month of November. Call it the melancholy month, if you will; with all of its early darkness, cold winds, and wet, dreary landscapes, it's a month where I sometimes lose my normal tendency to put on a cheerful face and carry on in the face of life's difficulties, and instead start to feel mired down in them. I am not looking for pity here by any means (that's not my style), but I hope you'll forgive me for needing to get something off my chest.

I am completely fed-up with food right now. As many of you know from reading previous posts, both Will and I have had to avoid several whole groups of foods in our diets over the past couple of years, foods that wreak havoc on our digestive systems, and in Will's case, his skin and respiratory system. I usually make this food avoidance routine seem easy to others, but right now I'm feeling that it is incredibly hard.

Never one to be put off by a challenge, I have tracked down many healthy alternative foods, recipes, and cooking methods since learning of our food issues. I am very proud of what I've been able to do with so few options and have had some wonderful Eureka! moments in my kitchen in the past couple of years. Sometimes, though, I fall into a hole of fatigue and frustration that's hard to climb out of, because our restrictive diet is not something we can ever really escape. Take this morning for example: Will was a mess before going to school because today was the once-a-week pizza lunch day. Will obviously cannot eat pizza provided by the school, and no matter what sort of interesting lunch I try to pack as a substitute, he feels anxious about lunchtime and about being different. I felt like my heart was going to break in two when he cried this morning and told me when he can't eat pizza at school he feels "sad, lonely, and left out." While the fact he has to miss out in this case is certainly not my fault, I feel racked with guilt that I'm not able to fix this for him. He's such a sensitive boy and he worries so much about things already that it seems completely unfair for life to have added this burden to his little shoulders.

With food sensitivities, going on vacation is an experience fraught with stress and extra work instead of being a relaxing break, a fact that I was reminded of again on our recent trip to Florida. I spent hours before the trip reading websites of Orlando grocery stores to find out if they carried safe alternatives to milk and gluten-containing grains, and then spent more time in the stores themselves carefully reading labels of unfamiliar products. I read countless restaurant menus in advance, trying to figure out where we could safely eat so I could at least get out of cooking dinner sometimes during the week. (I will say that Disney does a fantastic job of accommodating people with special dietary needs!) I spent time every night packing snacks and lunches for the next day so we knew Will would always have food he could eat if he was hungry. Even venturing out to carefully researched restaurants sometimes turned out to be a bust. We took the boys to a really cool dinosaur-themed restaurant that we were sure they would love, and Will had a sad meltdown when he realized the only safe food he could order that he liked was a grilled chicken breast, something we often eat at home. After several days of seeing kids all around him eating exciting looking Mickey Mouse shaped concoctions that he couldn't eat, the disappointment of having a plain old chicken breast was simply too much. It's a lot to ask a child that age to just grin and bear it in these kinds of situations.

The last straw this week came with my discovery of a wonderful new kind of gluten-free bread that is actually soft and great-tasting, rather than dense and rock-hard like most gluten-free varieties Will has been eating for over a year. I was so excited to bring it home for Will to try! After a few meals of eating and really enjoying the new bread, Will's tummy troubles made it clear that he wasn't tolerating the grain it was made of, either, and we've had to return to the old bread again for now. Our weeks are frequently filled with these kinds of setbacks and letdowns, and I constantly feel like a food detective, wondering what the most recent food source of trouble has been. Sometimes it just wears me out.

Our lives as human beings are so complexly involved with food; we eat for nourishment, for comfort, to celebrate, to share a sense of community with others. When someone suddenly cannot eat many regular foods, it's a blow to that person's sense of self, of happiness, of belonging. Yes, I have managed quite well to find good substitute foods to satisfy most of these needs for Will and I, but the truth is, sometimes it's just not the same, and there are always going to be times when we feel sad, and lonely, and left out. It's a reality we both feel keenly, and one we sometimes both desperately wish we could change.

I know this post has been quite the wallow in self-pity, and I hope you've read it for what it is: a venting of sorts so that I can move on and get back to the business of dealing with this challenge the way I usually do. I know there are people out there who have it much worse than we do food-wise. I am truly thankful that neither Will nor I have life-threatening food allergies, as I can only imagine the stress and worry that must bring to families who must deal with them. I'm also grateful for the general good health that eating well has given to all four of us. I'm off now to find my gluten-free, egg-free, dairy-free Christmas cookie recipes -- I have a feeling that the sweet smell of almond flour treats baking is just what I need to pick me up again.