Sometimes I'm a lame mom, and I reject my kids' offers to help make dinner in order to reduce messes and preparation time by 600%. (I did a study once. It was very scientific. And above all, very conclusive. Allowing kids to help in dinner prep is inversely proportional to productivity.)
But every once in a while, I try to spark the fires of learning and experimentation in my kids (like when I feel guilty after reading "
I am a Mother" by Jane Clayson Johnson*) and I decide it's time to involve some little fingers.
Yesterday was spaghetti night. So I recruited our always-willing taste-tester, Lily. I taught her the timeless trick for knowing when spaghetti noodles are done--toss one on the ceiling and see if it sticks. Oh, boy. She was in heaven. And, oh boy, do my ceilings need to be cleaned now. We almost had to cook a second batch to make up for all the "tested" pasta.
This afternoon, I broke out leftover spaghetti for lunch, and was heating up bowls when I felt a small thunk on my back. A cold noodle dropped to the floor beside me, and I turned to see Lily looking sheepishly at me.
I returned to food prep, but it wasn't long (5 seconds) before I felt a slimy, cold spaghetti noodle land on my big toe.
What does Jane Clayson Johnson have to say about that, huh?
I was mentally transported back to the children's section of the library, where I took the girls to redeem their summer reading prizes. Lily and Eliza both earned sticky hands, which are pretty much their favorite things on earth, along with everything else that costs 1 cent from Oriental Trading. Lily gave her sticky hand one big twirl, right there in the library, and we never saw it again. Even though we looked and looked.
I guess I should have checked the librarians' toes.
*
I actually DO like this book. Once I get over a few guilty feelings. But learning to be appropriately motivated by guilt (or not) is part of motherhood too, right?
