Why I almost didn't make cookies this Christmas

I love to bake, mostly because I love to eat the end result of said baking, but I also enjoy the journey to those results. When I was pregnant with Elise, I had wonderful visions of the two of us, mixing it up in the kitchen and creating delicious concoctions to fatten Fred up with.

She would have her own little apron, and steal bits of cookie dough when she thought I wasn't looking. I would let her lick the beaters, and try hard not to scrape all the batter out of the bowl, so she could sample that, too.

So when she was diagnosed with diabetes at 12 months, that dream died for me. And it wasn't until this Christmas that I realized that I was still in mourning.

Elise's first Christmas with d, she was only 15 months. Too young to really get caught up in the wonder of the season. But this year was much, much different and she was on a constant diet of Santa, the tree, ornaments, stockings, and of course... presents. But the one thing lacking, was all the yummy Christmas treats that flow endlessly as the calendar marches towards December 25.

Fred and I always had the fun tradition of decorating a gingerbread house every Christmas. I would make all the pieces from scratch, and we would pile as much candy, cementing it to the house with royal icing, as we could.

But I told myself I was not going to do any baking this year. It just made me too sad to even try. And even if I did make something, how much of it could she even eat? And what would it do to her BG? She's so little, that one cookie would take up over half of her dinner carb amount.

So up until Dec. 23, I didn't do anything but grieve that little dream that I had held in my heart. Until I decided to shed my black clothing for something a little more festive.

A big deciding factor for me was the fact that Elise LOVES to help in the kitchen. When she sees me in the kitchen, she'll ask, "What making?" And then exclaim, "wanna help Momma!"

We bought her a little step-ladder that she pulls up beside me, and I give her her own cutting board, "knife" (a rounded spatula with no sharp edges), and some food that she can cut. I love how proud of herself she is when she "makes food".

So together my daughter and I made gingerbread cookies. And because I am who I am, I measured, weighed and calculated every carb that went into those cookies. And then I even weighed each cookie so I knew exactly how many carbs were in it.

And then we even decorated those cookies with a dab of royal icing and one M&M. And when I say dab, I mean the tiniest, most microscopic dab of icing you ever saw, because that stuff is potent. After helping myself to several scoops of it (while Elise wasn't looking, of course), I checked my BG about 30 minutes later and rang in at a whopping 168!

So what if my daughter didn't get to lick the bowl or the beater, or sneak bits of cookie dough behind my back? So what if it isn't exactly how I had pictured it in my head?Who cares that baking now takes a little more effort and hard work? It was totally worth it.

My daughter and I made cookies together. Even more than that; we made memories.