Cooking admist the Crazy

I love to cook. I love to bake. I am one of those rare people that likes to do both. I seldom meet people who like to do both, they claim to be only bakers or only cooks. However, cooking while three boys are vying for my attention isn’t always pleasant.

Luckily, my kids have learned that my hour (or less) from 5-6pm is cooking time. They realize that the fight over the same piece of lego is going to result in that piece being placed on a shelf for the time being or that I have decided that is it time for them to work on conflict management and ignore them until someone is crying for reals. If we owned a parrot, I think its most used phrase would be “use your words, not you hands (or any other body parts)”.

There are numerous times that one of the boys will ask to help and I will admit that I inwardly groan when he asks. It is such a hassle trying to move around the chair that they have pushed up to the island or watch them pour half the cup of flour on the counter instead of in the bowl. Lately they have taken to wanting to crack the eggs, which is just asking for crunchy shell-filled treats.

However, there is joy in cooking with them. They get to see my love for cooking or baking. They will actually eat a dish that isn’t separated based on food group if they help make it. But, most of all, I love the smile they give know that they helped. Oh, and they love when they get to lick the bowl after making a sweet treat.

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