This post is way overdue, but the pictures and memories were too cute not to share. Holt's class invited all the parent's for a Thanksgiving lunch. It was absolutely adorable to see all the kids with their Indian costumes on and answering to their Indian names. My mom has always told Holt his Indian name is "little feet as cold as ice" because he has always had cold feet he likes to put on your back in the morning. Anyway, he forwent the traditional name and requested brave hunter - a fine name if I may say so. We had to go up and help him make his t-shirt the night before the lunch and Jonathan got there before I did, which meant he got to do most of the decorating. I think he did a fine job. Anyway, the Friday after the luncheon was the start of our first Holiday baking session. Holt helped me make tons of cookies, candies and sweets over the holidays, and here is where it all began. Hope you enjoy my little Indian brave.
Licking the sugar and butter mix before we added the eggs. I am surprised I had any left.
"Pretty good Mama"
The cutest little indians ever
Brave Hunter showing off his war cry
Brave Hunter and his squas
The food was really good. All we had to do was bring cranberry sauce. 
UPDATE:As I went back to re-read this post, I realized that there were a few memories I left out and wanted to share (the original post was thrown together hastily).
T-shirt night: We are so blessed to have jobs that are flexible enough that we can participate in Holt’s school events. And, Jonathan is great about volunteering when I can’t make it. Well, we had our calendars marked for Indian shirt night, but were still in the dark about exactly what was involved. The note that was sent home was pretty vague, but said it started at 5:15. That morning at work, I got a text from Holt’s teacher that any parents who wanted to go ahead and come at 5 could. I talked to Jonathan and we agreed that he would get there at 5 and I would be along as soon as I picked up Harper Ann. I left work a little early so that I could get to Holt’s school by 5. I was running a few minutes late (it’s my signature) and in the 2 minutes I was out of my car picking up Harper Ann I had 3 missed calls and 2 text messages from Jonathan. I was worried, understandably, and called immediately. When Jonathan answered he was whispering.
“Where are you?” he asked sounding a little panicked.
“I am almost there. What’s wrong?”
“Just hurry.”
“Is everything okay?”
“No, Sayward (notice the use of my name for emphasis) it’s not okay. Apparently they expect us to design our kid’s shirt for them.” Voice level rising then falling.
“Well, it’ll be okay, just get him started and I’ll be there in just a minute”
“There’s puff paint, Sayward (*) PUFF PAINT. And I’m the only dad here. Just get here.”
By the time I got to school, the shirt was almost fully decorated. Like I said initially, the two of them did a fine job. I just thought I would share some of my joy at Jonathan’s expense with y’all.
On baking cookies: Like I said Holt really did help me from start to finish with the cookies that afternoon. The whole experience was fun, but this little exchange makes me laugh when I think about the endeavor. Holt, all by himself, got the sticks of butter out of the fridge and placed them in the microwave. I told him how many seconds to punch in and he followed directions wonderfully. He then carried the softened butter over to the mixing bowl and measured out the vanilla (I helped with this part) and he counted out the cups of brown and white sugar. Then I let him mix the butter, flavors and sugars with the blender. The next step was to add the eggs, and I told Holt once the eggs were added I couldn’t let him taste the dough, but if he wanted to a taste before I added them then he could have a pinch off the beaters. I thought he would jump at the chance, but he looked really skeptical and kind of shook his head. Well, I couldn’t let this be, so I tried everything to convince him to try just one little bite. Finally, after minutes of begging my kid to please ingest creamed butter and sugar, like his life would be forever lacking if he passed up this opportunity, he took an ant-sized nibble. Well, it was akin to the opening of pandoras box, there was no going back. In the time it took me to get the eggs out of the refrigerator and into the bowl the whole egg to batter ratio was disrupted. The closer I got to the bowl the bigger the bites got, as he knew, once the eggs were added, there would be no more of this sugary treat. I think the cookies themselves, were a bit of a disappointment, because, as we all know, the batter/dough/precooked goo is the best part.
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