Cookies for Everyone!

I keep thinking I'll take it easy during the Christmas holidays and not push myself to do too much. Every year I blow it. Really, honestly, truly I had such great intentions, but with my darling hubby as a bishop in his first year I began to worry about inadvertently offending ward members.

Does it seem like a silly thing? Let me invite you to visit the inner workings of my brain for a few minutes.

Say we decide to take a few cookies to Brother and Sister Allan (no such members in our ward, this is all for illustration purposes), because he works as the financial clerk and she works as a counselor with the Young Women. Right across the street we have Brother Watkins (again, fictitional member only) who is a teacher in the Elder's Quorum. Might he feel a little put out if the bishop and his wife didn't make him a little plate of something to show appreciation for his hard work?

Not good enough? Let me try again.

Sister Michaels lives amid a group of active members. Her neighbors to the right and left both hold positions in the ward who work closely with my husband. Hence, they all get cookies. Her neighbor across the street is an old and dear friend of ours - she gets a special plate of cookies. The homes to the right and left of the woman across the street get cookies for really good reasons you'll have to think up all on your own (it's almost ten at night and my thought processes shut down a while ago). How does Sister Michaels feel, being the only one who doesn't get a little plate of cookies from the bishop?

Of course I realize there are those who simply don't care. Maybe they don't like cookies, are diabetic, or don't pay attention to who gets what. I also realize for every person like this there are others who constantly have their eyes glued to the front window to see who's going where and doing what (I know this because, um, I'm one of them). A large part of their identity within the ward hangs on a very precarious ledge of who shows them the appreciation they undoubtedly deserve. To be the only person overlooked in their circle of friends/neighbors would either feel like a deliberate snub, or (perhaps even worse) that they've simply been forgotten and don't really matter.

Can you imagine the depths of chaos that reign in my mind? It's exhausting living in this head of mine.

In order to assuage any possible means of inadvertant guilt I came up with a plan - I made cookies for everyone! Not just cookies, I melted and molded chocolate. I put together chocolate covered caramels and my absolute favorite fudge. I found cute little bags to put it all in and even began plotting the most strategic routes in the neighborhoods in which to deliver my little gifts of love. Then I frantically came back home to figure out how I could possibly have forgotten so many people!

I'm exhausted! I still need to make one more pan of fudge to help restock my dwindling supply. We've run out of the cute baggies and I'm forced to use plates. Why forced? I hate using plastic wrap. It never sticks to paper plates. But beyond that I'm done. No more cookies. No more baking. I can hardly stand to look at the goodies others have brought to us. Tonight I was so tired of it all I almost cried when my darling hubby took over dinner preparations and washed the dishes. He's totally my hero.

Next year? Next year I pile hubby's office high with Hershey Kisses and tell the ward members to have at it.