I almost wrote "Cooking with Toddlers" as my title, but realized that at the ripe old age of 4, Lydia doesn't really qualify as a toddler anymore (/tear).
Also, this post is not a revelation of how to make your chicken and child casserole taste delicious, so if you're looking for cannibalistic recipes, move along.
The actual point of this is to ask the question "How on earth do you cook alongside your children without losing your mind?"
A typical cooking session for me looks like this.
"Okay, keep fingers out while I'm chopping, thanks! Yes, you can help pour, but...OH that was a lot. You are such a HELPer! Yay! Rafe, the microwave is not a toy, no really, not - Stop pushing the buttons...okay, let's unplug it. Hey Lyds, what have you been up to? Oh, what else did you add to the recipe? Great (big smile) No, buddy, your sister is on the stool right now. Can we keep the fridge closed? Oh, be careful there, that's hot. Chopping is really Mom's job, but that's really nice of you to want to help. We're not unloading the dishwasher right now. Yes, stir all you want. Preferably keeping some of dinner in the bowl...
And so it goes.
I want them to learn to cook, and I want to spend time with them, but goodness gracious they drive me crazy. Any hints?
Tonight I made this delicious baked gnocchi, and when I put it in the oven I realized that I had forgotten two important ingredients (one being salt) because I had been so busy putting out fires (figuratively people, no real fires, although with Rafe's obsession with the microwave, I'm sure there will come the day. Maybe I should check to make sure our fire extinguisher is in working order).
So yeah. I'm still alive. So are my children. We might order pizza tomorrow.