One must allow a certain leeway for children to be children, my dear. The ones who are worth the effort put into them will realise soon enough when it's time to put the distractions away; the others will at least have a few years of carefree enjoyment before the world imposes its harsh lessons upon them. Leave them enough rope to hang themselves, has always been my way of thinking. (And thus you see Ravenclaw and Slytherin, perfectly embodied.)

As for the baked goods: lace cookies and marzipan from the New London café Auri introduced me to of which I am inordinately fond, and as Mardi Gras season is upon us, I've sweet-talked the elves into frying up a batch of beignets. (If you have never had them, they are quite the treat, no matter that they make me nostalgic for New Orleans. I am negotiating for a king cake, if I can turn up the recipe; that was part of the reason for trunk-diving this weekend.) I have the remainder of the beignets under a warming charm so you can experience them as they are meant to be eaten: fresh out of the fryer.

You've no need for enhancements to your analytical thinking ability, but they will certainly make the atmosphere more convivial.