Gingerbread Dreams (and Frosting Nightmares): Decorating with Kids is Sweet Chaos

Every year, I tell myself, This will be the year we make Pinterest-worthy gingerbread houses and cookies. And every year, my kids remind me that Pinterest doesn’t account for the creative genius of a 7-year-old with unlimited sprinkles or a 9-year-old convinced she’s the next Martha Stewart. This year, though? This year was going to be different.

Spoiler: it wasn’t. But it was hilarious.

Step 1: Building the Gingerbread Mansion (Or, You Know, House)

“Mom, we don’t need the instructions. I know what I’m doing,” Brittany said confidently, like she’d been flipping houses on HGTV for years. Blake chimed in with his own wisdom: “We just need more frosting. Lots of frosting.”

We started strong—walls up, roof panels ready, spirits high. But apparently, gingerbread roofs are made of hopes and dreams because the moment we let go, it turned into a gingerbread demolition derby. “It’s fine!” Brittany said, holding one wall upright while Blake tried to glue it together with what looked like a gallon of icing. “It’s just rustic.”

After three rounds of holding, frosting, and an accidental gumdrop stuck to my elbow, we finally got the roof on. It was lopsided, a little squished, and definitely not a mansion. But it was a house. A sweet, sugar-coated house. Blake declared it “the best house ever!” and immediately licked one of the walls. Brittany nodded approvingly and said, “Well, it’s not ugly.”

Sure, one side looked like it had been hit by a gingerbread hurricane, but in our house? That’s called character.

Step 2: Cookie Chaos

If gingerbread houses are a battle of architecture, gingerbread cookies are a wild free-for-all of frosting and sugar. I set out bowls of icing and sprinkles, feeling like a Pinterest mom for all of three seconds before Blake dumped half a container of red sprinkles onto his first cookie.

“It’s snowing!” he yelled. “Red snow is bad news,” Brittany muttered like the voice of reason.

From there, things escalated. Brittany carefully piped a perfect snowflake onto her cookie, while Blake created what he called “a superhero gingerbread guy.” It had three heads, six arms, and more sprinkles than a bakery grand opening. Brittany took one look and said, “Well, that’s not going on Instagram.”

Step 3: A Sprinkle Explosion

Here’s something they don’t warn you about: sprinkles are like glitter’s evil cousin. Once released, they spread everywhere. I found sprinkles in places sprinkles shouldn’t be—my hair, my sock, Duke’s fur. (He’s still sparkly.)

Blake thought it was the funniest thing ever. “Mom, look! Duke’s a Christmas puppy now!”

Brittany was slightly less amused. “This is why I work alone,” she huffed as she carefully added a gumdrop scarf to her gingerbread woman.

Step 4: Sweet Success

Somehow, we finished. The gingerbread house was standing (ish), the cookies were decorated (uniquely), and the kitchen looked like a Christmas tornado had passed through. But as I watched the kids proudly show off their creations, I realized something magical: it wasn’t about perfection.

It was about the laughter, the sugar rush, and the memories we were making.

Brittany smiled and said, “Mom, I think this was the best one yet!” Blake added, “Next year, we should make a gingerbread castle!” Duke barked in what I can only assume was agreement.

Final Thoughts

If you’re planning to tackle gingerbread houses or cookies with your kids this holiday season, here’s my advice: let go of perfection, embrace the chaos, and always, always buy extra sprinkles. It won’t be Pinterest-worthy, but it will be filled with laughter, frosting-covered smiles, and the kind of memories that make the holidays truly sweet.

And next year? We are making that gingerbread castle. Probably. Maybe. Okay, definitely.

Happy decorating, and may your frosting never run out! 🎄✨

~ Mary

#MomLifeWithMary