Sunday, April 2, 2017
This July I will have been a parent for 19 years.
I am 37 years old. Over half my life I have been a mother and a wife. I have been adjusting to this whole idea of raising small humans into large humans for 19 years. Although it's been hard, I'm thinking I'm starting to learn.
I have found that I have one part of life as a mother that is so much harder than any other parts.
It's not taking care of babies, or lack of sleep for years on end.
It's not being limited to what I can do because of a nursing baby.
It's not worrying over sick kids.
It's not homeschooling my hoard of minions.
It's not even the endless chores or cleaning and laundry.
No. My biggest struggle? It's allowing my kids to help me in the kitchen. I have always struggled to let them cook with me.
I can do it faster.
They get underfoot.
They don't do it exactly how I want.
I have to stop what I'm doing and instruct them.
It takes me three times longer.
So tonight, as I'm making pork stew, my 7 year old daughter asked to help. I immediately said no, thanks for asking, and to go on out.
I stopped and thought. It's Sunday dinner. I'm in no hurry. I ask her to peel the carrots. When she's done I show her how to cut the carrots.
**Yes, I let her use a knife. They do cook, but not while I'm cooking.**
One that's done, she washes and cuts the celery.
She had a ton of fun, and it actually saved me time. I was flouting and browning the pork in batches as she did the veggies.
My son got the stick down for me, opened the jars, and added them to the pot.
My other daughter peeled potatoes for me.
My 2, 4, 5, 7, and 8 year old kids all snapped green beans.
It was a family event, and it all turned out perfect.