PRECIOUS ONES: Moon and Sun and Star Cookies!

Children are all precious. You cannot bring a child into your life without having every part of your soul rearranged and transformed. Triplets, well, they multiply that effect.

Nathan, Cody, and Tanner are special mischief-makers. Even though biologically they belong to Hank and Morgan, they really belong to The Crossing. They are our little fairies who jump giggling from trees to shatter the seriousness of our lives.

Morgan and Hank were in their early forties when they decided to start a family. They were thinking maybe one child, so it was a bit of a startle to find that three spirits were forming in Morgan’s womb. There was much fussing to do over Morgan, who had temporarily traded in her career as an architect to be this amazing incubator. Her body kept getting bigger and bigger and bigger and BIGGER. When she walked down the crossing, we peered out our windows in amazement at the immense bubble forming on her front side. Her belly was much larger than the rest of her body, so she looked like a pipe cleaner with a big grapefruit attached to it.

Days before the triplets were born, I was watching her from my kitchen window as she wandered in her backyard. She was dressed in one of those special black pregnancy leotards that covered her body in one piece of fabric. Walking slowly, she gazed off toward the river. She stood for several moments, swaying softly. Then, something on the ground caught her eye. She bent down awkwardly to retrieve the item. She seemed so precarious in her state that I held my breath, knowing that if she fell… oh my gosh! I didn't want to think about it. She carefully brought her self back up to standing and held a tiny leaf up to the sun. Before the week ended, the boys arrived.

Nathan, Cody, and Tanner were big noisy babies who cried at what seemed like orchestrated intervals in a plan intended to drive their parents deep into the clutches of madness. At The Crossing there was much head-shaking and sighing. How were they surviving? Pre-triplets, Hank and Morgan had lived this rather idealistic, intellectual, and adventurous life-- traveling, kayaking rivers, pursuing fancy, high-paying careers in architecture and engineering.

Their pre-triplets house could have been a Pottery Barn showcase. Wooden shelves and black and white landscape photos were arranged in perfect symmetry on freshly painted peach-colored walls. Tasteful cream linen drapes slid open to reveal the expansive river scene behind their dining nook. Expensive upholstered chairs fell in line around a glass coffee table. On this coffee table was a hand-carved elongated wooden tray lined down the center with hand-dipped Marion Berry scented candles.

The triplets, in a mighty tornado of energy and personality, quickly disrupted everything for Hank and Morgan. Within two years the picture window overlooking the river had been repeatedly broken and replaced. After the fourth time, they just covered it with cardboard. Crayon scribbles covered the once peach-colored walls. Chairs with torn upholstery now served as building foundations for rambling forts, constructed with a combination of plastic climbing apparatuses and blankets. Their house had become a wreck.

The triplets grew into know-it-all, mischievous toddlers who were quick to hug. Each had a unique personality. Tanner had a tender spirit and his feelings were easily injured. Nathan was more engineering and precise of mind. Cody, the clown, started young playing practical jokes.

It was fun to watch Morgan and Hank chasing after the wild boys. And we were soooo glad it wasn’t us!

One day I was out on the deck entertaining a mishmash of guests: Marcus and his girlfriend, my sister from the Coast, old friends, and maybe a lover or a past lover. I really can’t remember now. Back and forth I went from my house to my deck, carrying platters of Greek food: baba ganoush, kabobs, pasta, and olives. It was one of those late summer evenings when the air was still and warm, but not too hot, and filled with the smells of leaves and flowers.

Hank is calling Cody. This is common. The triplets are getting quite quick on their feet. It’s hard to keep track of them. I continue carrying the meal to the deck. A bottle of wine and eight wine glasses. Don’t forget the napkins.

Hank is still calling for Cody. His voice is beginning to rise, reaching that point of panic. I look over and see him bounding about the yard, looking behind shrubs and down over the bank toward the river that, while low with summer, is still a force to be considered with respect.

I deposit my last load of dishes and abandon my guests. Soon, word has spread; Cody can’t be found! A toddler hunt begins. We spread out through the neighborhood. We look in everyone’s yards, cars, inside and even under houses. Our eyes scan the river as we conjure up, but refuse to name the worst of possible scenarios. And then remember, with a terrible sense of foreboding, the transient who had wandered through earlier in the evening. Was our safe haven breached?

Had we become too comfortable? Had tragedy slipped in while we were busy toasting friends, weeding our gardens, or making a to-do list for the next day?

Hank had been watching the children, just him. Morgan was at a yoga class. It was just a big job for one person. Turn your back for a moment….

We are now standing all in a circle in the triplets’ living room, surrounded by a chaos of toys. Hank takes Nathan by the shoulders. “Nathan, where is your brother? Where’s Cody?” Hank's hands are shaking, his face flushed in terror. Nathan puts one hand sheepishly over his mouth to hide a grin and points to a cupboard in the corner of the room. Hank goes there and pulls the door open. Out tumbles Cody, all giggles and smiles.

Hank sits in the middle of the floor and sobs; his shoulders convulse and big tears stream down his face. Tanner, as always the sensitive one, comes and gives him a hug.

We all cry too. We all have our precious ones. We had to expand our hearts so wide to hold our love for them. Imagine how we would fall deep into sad, echoing chambers if a precious one were lost.

***

As a little boy, my son would sit on the kitchen counter when I was baking cookies. With spoon in hand, he was the master of measuring. It was his job to make sure that four equal cups of flour made their journey to the mixing bowl. Immersed in the process, he seemed an essential component of the recipe; dusted with flour, he often LOOKED like he could actually be an ingredient.

When my son entered my world, it was like a magnolia bud blossoming in my heart. It was truly a shift in my ability to give and receive that mysterious and omnipotent feeling defined by the word “love.” I had never felt so full. To make sure he knew the depth of my love for him, I would often repeat, “I love you more than the moon and the sun and stars.” I made it into a wee nursing rhyme and comforted him with it when, exhausted from a day of play, he would cry against my shoulder until my cooing words eased him into dreamland.

Hush now sweet darling. Hush now, don’t cry.

The angels in heaven will sing you a lullaby.

And the dream fairies are waiting to bring on your dreams,

Of riding white horses and other great things.

I love you more than the moon, and the sun, and the stars.

With your sparkling eyes and mischievous grin,

I love you just the way you are.

Toes clean or toes smelly, dry nose or runny,

Near or far, wherever you are,

I love you more than the moon and the sun and the stars.

So hush now sweet darling. Hush now, don’t cry.

The angels in heaven will sing you a lullaby!

These cookies honor him and all precious ones in our lives.

Perhaps today it a perfect day to bake some Moon and Sun and Star Cookies to present to your beloved.

And remember the simple incantation, “I love you more than the moon and the sun and the stars.” Its magic is unequaled.

Moon and Sun and Star Sugar Cookies

Makes about 60 cookies

Moon, sun and star shaped cookie cutters.

3/4 cup unsalted butter, softened

1 teaspoon vanilla

1 cup sugar

2 egg- at room temperature

1 teaspoon baking powder

1/8 teaspoon salt

2 1/2 cups all-purpose flour

Cream butter and sugar in a bowl with an electric mixer until smooth. Add eggs and vanilla extract. Blend well. In a separate bowl mix flour, baking powder and salt. Stir flour mixture into butter and sugar mixture until just mixed, careful not to over mix. Form into a ball. Place each ball of dough between pieces of floured parchment paper. Using a rolling pin, roll out the dough through the parchment paper to about ¼ inch thick. Place rolled dough on a cookie sheet and place in the refrigerator for at least one hour, but preferably over nights.

When ready to finish cookies, preheat oven to 400. Place another sheet of parchment paper on cookie sheets.

Take the dough out of the refrigerator. Remove the top parchment. You may need to smooth out the dough with a rolling pin once more and add another dusting of flour if the dough gets sticky. Cut the dough using moon, sun and star cookie cutters. Place on the parchment paper covered cookie sheet. Bake cookies for 5-7 minutes, until just brown. Carefully place cookies on a cooling rack until cooled. I like to keep them simple and unadorned, and just give a light sprinkle of sugar when they are still warm. But this could be because I don't have much of a sweet tooth. You can certainly use your favorite frosting or glaze to fancy them up. Enjoy.