Two classmates and I planned a ladies' tea party on Wednesday afternoon (the desert-equivalent of a Friday night) for the new students that started their Arabic-learning journey 6 weeks ago and our tireless teachers. Sharing the load, the three of us offered an amazing spread of eats and treats: homemade mini-pizzas, oat cake with a cream cheese icing, tea sandwiches British-style (cucumber; walnut/cream cheese; salmon), chocolate cookies, nanaimo bars, swedish thumbprint cookies with passion fruit jelly, fruit salsa with homemade cinnamon pita chips along with 2 types of tea (sweet mint and spiced tea with milk) and freshly ground, strong coffee. Of course, we also served fruit juice upon our honoured guests' arrival.

For about an hour and a half, there was a lot of great conversation and laughter filling the room. As the energy began to wane just a bit, I knew the time had come to break out the video equipment and break out the "Luscious Belly Dancing" dvd! Oh yes! We learned to belly dance! At first, it was just me trying to keep up with the girl on the screen while sending the other girls in the room into fits of laughter. Thankfully, one other girl took pity on my pitiful attempts and joined me to offer me some much-needed moral support and coaching. She's from a Latino culture, which means that she was born with the necessary hip-popping skills and is able to defy all logic with her body movements - all the while making it look effortless. Two of our teachers joined the coaching (I needed a LOT of help) and then a flood of willing participants chose to brave their own personal humiliation, women trying their hips at belly dancing. If only the hidden cameras that my husband threatened to have installed had actually existed. I would have GREAT blackmailing footage, but, alas, the events live on in our memories only. One thing is for certain, a desire to practice and learn more belly dancing moves has been birthed in many a skittish heart.

The next day, I did the "my mom is Martha Stewart" thing and baked sugar cookies with Charlie and Lola. Their interest lapsed about 1/3 of the way through the batch, which was welcomed by this perfectionist heart. It's really hard for me to "let go" in the baking department and really let my kids enjoy their baking experience. I'm really anal when it comes to baking - carefully measuring each ingredient, using a knife to level off the flour - so when Lola dumps the dry ingredients a little too quickly and some of it lands on the counter rather than in the bowl, I literally bite the inside of my cheek and chant internally "It's about the moment, It's about the moment, It's about the moment."

Friday afternoon, Charlie and Lola each made a selection from among the food colourings. Lola chose purple (of course!), Charlie chose orange, and I chose yellow. They oohed and ahhed over the changing colours of their icing. If you ever want your kids to think that you are truly magical, have them watch you mix in food colouring. Eternally, I am a wizard in the eyes of my children.

The results were not Martha worthy, but they weren't destined for a magazine shoot either. Instead, we staged another tea party. Much more low key this time, with a smaller menu and only one type of tea (spiced with milk), but just as sweet with only our family.