Saddle up folks, I’ve gotten out my soapbox and I’m looking to rant a little bit… or maybe this is just an excuse to show some adorable pictures of Sophie baking cookies with me. She’s helping me write this post right now too (blogging is so easy with a baby sitting on your lap).
First for the rant: I know cooking with kids doesn’t seem like the easiest thing to do. It often isn’t. When the three of them are in the kitchen helping me with dinner, it adds a minimum of 20 minutes to my prep and cook time. But they LOVE it. Most nights, as soon as they see me pulling ingredients out of the fridge, they’re all running to grab an apron and a stool. I encourage this, no matter how jammed I am for time, for two reasons.
It’s some of the best bonding time that we get. They open up to me about the good and bad moments at school, they always share incredibly well with each other, and they learn about whatever it is we’re making – the fruits, vegetables, meat, and lots of math with all the measuring.
They’ve developed a love of cooking for themselves and those around them. This is priceless to me, especially in a time where I see so many people my age that hate cooking, don’t know how to cook, or don’t want to cook. I am building up little chefs that I’m confident will be able to fend for themselves. When Oliver’s in college, I know he’s going to be able to cook himself an actual meal, not just toss a frozen dinner in the microwave. My girls won’t feel like they need to rely on anyone else for food (like a boy at college for a date they don’t really want, I’m doing this for you Bo). Another benefit of this is that while they still like going out for dinner once in awhile (who doesn’t), they’re learning they can cook food just as good, if not better, at home. That’ll save them money down the road too.
So please, if you aren’t already, I’m begging you to start getting your kids into the kitchen with you. As soon as my guys were old enough to stand on their own, they were helping me. When Oliver was small, his favourite thing to do was catch pasta coming out of the rollers, Sophie loves to play with dough balls – she watches Anna, Oliver, and I roll them out for buns, and we give her one that she can pull, flatten, and tear into pieces. It doesn’t matter what she does with it, as long as she’s part of the experience. Anna, well, she’s always loved doing anything (she’s my little helper), but mainly she’s a thief, getting her hands into anything she can eat while we’re working.
Sophie’s just a few weeks shy of two years now, and she’s already a seasoned pro in the kitchen with me. I promised you an end to the rant and some adorable pictures: here you go!
COOKIES!!!!!!!!! Let’s do this Mamma!
Ok, why are we still taking pictures? You promised cookies.
I will only make this face from now until you put the damn camera down.
Ok, I got the measuring spoon.
Women, you said spoon, what is this now about a measuring cup?
Sophie is a very hands on kitchen helper. If you don’t let her, your ears will ring for weeks.
Alright, cookies are done, now I’ve just got to wait patiently for them to bake!
This is a joke right? I mean, they’re right there in front of me, waiting to be eaten. Who ever heard of letting cookies cool, that’s ridiculous.
Finally! (Please note Sophie’s baking attire and the full awesomeness of it, rubber boots included)