I like to cook. To me there is something almost therapeutic about being in the kitchen in front of the stove stirring and sauteing. I don’t know what it is but I never feel stressed or overwhelmed in the kitchen. It is my place to create and really be me.
Since I have a great love of cooking and the kitchen, I want to share this with my children. I love getting them involved in what I am doing in the kitchen. I think that this fosters good eating habits and helps them appreciate what it takes to get dinner on the table.
I know that my love of cooking has started to spread because any time I am in the kitchen, they all come running. They grab chairs and stools and gather round to see what I am doing. They like to learn about the different foods. They like to taste the food in its different forms, raw and cooked. And they like that I let them help.
I do love the fact that they get so excited to help me make dinner but sometimes their help is a little much.
I would say that we have a pretty good sized kitchen but when you add four kids, each with their chair or stool, and each with their toy or two of choice, there is not a whole lot of room for me or the food.
I know that they do enjoy being in the kitchen but inevitably, they all start too loose interest. They are just kids. But their lack of interest in the food translate into an interest in playing at my feet, even though, they have the whole house to run around and play in.
Pretty soon, they have dragged every toy in the house into the kitchen and I can’t even walk back and froth from the island in the middle of the kitchen to the stove because the floor is covered with toys or children.
Sometimes, it is more than I can take. Especially when it is not really playing that they are doing but fighting and bickering or I have stepped on/tripped over the same toy fifty times.
This causes me stress. The kitchen is suppose to be my space. A place that I can come to to unwind, to relax and enjoy what I am cooking. But on those days, when I get dinner started late or the kids have been at each other all day and I step on a toy again, I lose it. And I am not just talking about yelling and removing the kids from the room. No, I have a full blown mommy tantrum.
I yell, scream, stomp my feet, wave my arms, pound on the counter and I throw things.
That’s right, I threw the toy across the room and it landed in the chandelier. Thank goodness it was a soft toy or my consequences might have been worse. Because now all I have to deal with was my kids, who of course saw the whole things and told me, “No, No, Mommy. Don’t throw toys. You. Naughty chair, now!”
So after a good laugh, it was off to the naughty chair for me.
And yes, lesson learned.