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Football Sandwiches
Photo: Joelle Yamada
I signed up to bring cookies.  How hard could that be? My daughter’s preschool class was having a football-themed party and though I’m not crafty or particularly creative, I figured football cookies should be doable.

Using my favorite social media pinning site, I found several cute but not-so-difficult recipes and chose to make football sandwiches (dark cookie on bottom and top, frosting in the middle with icing laces on top). I bought the ingredients early in the week and was sure we’d have plenty of free time to get them made before Friday’s class. However, given the usual crazy tempo of my life, I shouldn’t have been surprised when, at 10 p.m. on Thursday night, I was finally in the kitchen to make the cookies.

Classically, it turned out I only had enough butter for half a recipe, so figured I’d just make the “top” cookie with laces. I mixed up the batter, shaped the dough (admittedly, the texture seemed strange), placed them on the cookie sheet and in the oven they went. Ten minutes later, my timer went off and I pulled out of the oven a single, gigantic cookie. It had all spread together to become one big super-thin cookie.  

Fail. Big giant mommy fail.

One of THOSE Moms

So instead, we left the house early the next morning and swung by the supermarket to grab “brownie bites” for her class. I hated walking towards her room with that grocery bag – obviously indicating that I am one of THOSE moms. Moms that buy treats for their children’s classes instead of taking the time to pour out their love by cooking something from scratch. Ego blow. We lined up at her classroom door, my head hanging a bit.

And now for a little background: One of the other mothers at my daughter’s school is… well…  perfect. Or she seems to be. She’s always looks cute, even in her exercise clothes; she’s perky, thin, pretty – basically makes me want to gag. I know it’s just jealousy towards someone who appears to have it all together, and I try to just smile and not think snarky thoughts – but it’s hard.

As I’m standing waiting to usher my daughter and her bag of store-bought brownies into her classroom, I happen to turn back and see that Ms. Perky has arrived. And balancing expertly on her hand? A platter filled with MY football cookies. Top, bottom, and creamy frosting middle, adorable football icing laces adorning the top. We’d evidently seen the same recipe and hers… well… hers were perfect.  

I glanced down at my brownies and back at her football sandwiches. I took a deep breath, knowing it would be silly to cry, so I just laughed to and at myself instead.   

Oh Lord, help me to be content with the mother that I am. Help me not to judge others or myself by the invisible standard of the Perfect Mom. Enable me to be the best at being myself – the me you created.

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By Joelle Yamada. Copyright © 2013 by GraceNotes. All rights reserved. Use of this material is subject to usage guidelines.

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