Tea in the time of, well---TIME.

Ever have one of those days where you’re mindlessly scrolling through Facebook or Pinterest so busy you are nearly flattened by the fact that you are missing out on the most precious moments of your life?
Last week, Gloria kept pestering me about playing with the little ceramic tea set we have, which I had purchased a couple of years go with the vision of enjoying many cozy tea parties with my girls.  I was doing something on the computer (I’m sure it was hugely important…) and I kept brushing the kid off.
“Not now, babe. In a while.”
“Later on, okay?”
“In a bit, kiddo, in a little bit.”
Well, Gloria finally got tired of waiting and got the set down.  I heard the clinking of the dishes and went to investigate.  My first inclination was to scold the kid for getting into the tea set without permission. But when I saw her dressed in her finest, with a giant, floppy ribbon carefully tied in her hair, and setting the table with a flowered hankie as a table cloth for the tea set, I melted.

This wasn’t going to be any old tea party, casually slopping water from tea pot to cup.  This was going to be the REAL DEAL.
I don’t even remember what I was doing before, or what I did after—but right then, I realized this was an opportunity to make some sweet memories.  We made biscuits.  We made herbal tea.  We set the table. We broke out the freezer jam.  We invited the other kids.  We added insane amounts of sugar AND honey to our drinks.  And we had a blast.

Isn’t she adorable?


Of course, things got a little less dainty and refined when the siblings joined us, but hey---good company is good company.


We decided to skip having a real lunch and just gorge ourselves on biscuits and jam and sugar loaded lemon herbal.


I love that the baby has a tea cup AND a sippy.  She’ll have her tea, and drink it, too!


I love her pinky in this last picture—it appears Gloria is trying to be dainty, but the reality is that as I took the picture, I asked her a question, but she was focusing on drinking the tea—the uplifted pinky was a signal that she couldn’t respond right then and would have to wait until she finished.