What was I Thinking?

My husband and I take the religious upbringing of our girls quite seriously. So, when a need surfaced at our church for someone (anyone) to oversee the activities of our junior youth group we took on the challenge (without near enough forethought or prayer).

We have graciously accepted the challenge of organizing monthly activities for 13 youth (ages 10-14). Two of our three daughters fall into this category.

We've enjoyed bowling with the kids, taking them to a Remedy Drive concert in a nearby town, and we even went so far as an overnight trip to our church's camp to help rake leaves and clean gutters.

December's activity (which got postponed due to weather) took place today. I had this great brainchild that the junior youth should prepare the baked Christmas goodies for their Christmas pageant. In years past, I have been yoked with the duty of supplying 4-6 dozen baked goods (2 dozen per child) amidst all the Christmas program practices, IBL basketball games, family Christmas gatherings, shopping, work parties, and sanity breaks. So, I thought if I could save other over-burdened mothers from this same task, I would some how be a hero.

I've decided I'm not hero material.

After the kids spent the entire morning indoors practicing for tomorrow's big performance, I stuffed them with pizza and soda and then corralled them in the church kitchen for a "fun" afternoon of baking. I had envisioned laughter and floured stained faces - a literal Santa's workshop of baking elves if you will. Instead I got a room full of noisy tweens that couldn't follow a recipe even though it was written in a language I was sure they were versed in - English.

"I need some butter!" "Who has the 1 tsp.?" I don't know what this means!" "Can someone help me stir this?" "Who has the 1 tsp.?" "Who took my oven?" "Where's the pan I had right here?" "WHO HAS THE 1TSP!?"

And then there was the mess. Boy, it's amazing how fast a room full of children can disappear once they have lost interest in what they were doing. How do the little Houdini's do that? One minute I want to pull all the hair out of my head as the noise level threatens my sanity. The next minute I'm elbow deep in a bowl of peanut butter cookie dough and completely unaware of the eerily empty kitchen.

At the end of the two and a half hour Christmas baking extravaganza, I'm left completely exhausted and wondering how I could have thought that baking 6 dozen cookies in the privacy of my own kitchen while my husband entertains the children with a trip to the movie theater once drove me to my limit. Seriously? What was I thinking?