[bctt tweet=”Today I was going to be a super mom. #momlife #baking #cooking”] The day was a snow day and I spent the earlier part of the day working from home and bribing my children to be good so I could work. I decided the reward would be for us to do some baking together. After all, I wanted to make a couple things ahead in preparation for the low carb plan I am gong to kill tomorrow, or maybe I’ll wait until next week now to start…
I ran this plan by my husband. He didn’t try to talk me out of it. He didn’t exactly offer words of encouragement either, but he didn’t talk me down. That is problem number one. He did make a comment that boiled down to me not being the kind of mom that does this sort of thing easily. He is not wrong on that front. However the way he said it made me want to prove him wrong instead of giving me a moment of clarity. Not that I’m trying to blame anyone for what occurred next.
Long story short there were dolls piled up on the floor, a dozen broken eggs and peanut butter on my oldest daughter’s foot. I may have made that too short. I’ll go back.
I had two recipes to try and I have two daughters ergo I decided one daughter could do everything for one and the other for the next receipt. The idea made perfect sense in my head and to be honest on paper I still think it falls within logic. At 4 and 6 they didn’t quite understand. I’m not sure if I was speaking German when I was explaining- I didn’t feel like I was, but the way their mouths were agape and they continued to hash out who was going to do what on the first recipe you would think I hadn’t said – “hey this is Nina’s recipe and the next will be Sophie’s.”
We got the chocolate recipe rolling. Nina continued to try to lick everything out of the bowl. When I put the pan into the oven with the “cookies” on it I accidentally had a bill stuck to the bottom of the sheet pan. This caused quite a stench in the house. Also, it really made my eyes water. My bad, I should pay better attention. You noticed the “cookies” in quotes. Well, the recipe seemed a little too runny so I just dumped it on the pan and didn’t divide into cookies.
While those “cookies” cooked with the bill in the oven, we moved on to the peanut butter cookie recipe. This was to be performed by the one and only Sophie aged 6. Younger sister refused to exit the area required for cooking, and what ended up happening is that the chair they were standing on tipped over, she grabbed the eggs in order to stop from falling. Since the eggs were not full-fledged birds yet they could not flap their wings to fly up and save her. Therefore they went to the floor cracking all of them and she somehow got peanut butter on her foot. Don’t worry no one was hurt, physically. I need therapy, but one could argue I have always needed it.
I took the other “cookie” out and found the paper bill on the bottom of the sheet and finally understood why the oven smelled so bad. Thank god there wasn’t a fire, I guess. Strangely this is about the only time I have used the oven where the smoke alarm has not gone off. Glad to know you have my back smoke alarms. I don’t need your pity!
The girls wanted to help more, I tried to fib and say we didn’t have any more eggs. I forgot that they have eyes and when they checked the fridge they saw that we had some. Then they felt like they saved the day. I didn’t share the feeling. We finished the peanut butter cookies. They cooked. I cleaned up eggs from the floor a little more.
Here is the real kicker. Nothing tasted good. All that and nothing even turned out. You know why I tell you this story even though it was not perfect? Before I put them to bed my girls were excited to try a different recipe tomorrow. They don’t care that it all failed and they couldn’t choke down the cookie we tried to make. They wanted to hang out and try new things with me. Nothing could be more encouraging than that.
Also, tomorrow’s new thing is going to be snow ice cream. No oven required. With any luck, I can catch a break by taking heat out of the equation. Obviously, I’m too h-o-t to have another source of heat competing with me. Booyah baby! Fail at things with your kids sometimes! It’s encouraging to see how great it can turn out.