My children provide endless sources of amusement, if looked at with the right frame of mind. Especially to other people, after the event. This looks like a happy afternoon cooking at the Kannely's house. That's where you are wrong. This actually is a situation fraught with mess and frustration. You moms know what I mean. You start out trying to whip up a quick recipe to take to a potluck (in this case, book club) and then you hear it: The Chair being pulled across the kitchen floor by a small child. And you cringe. You know it is going to take twice as long to put together and three times as long to clean up. But in the name of spending Quality Time and making Good Memories with your kids, you sigh and try to make room.
Now, I do like my kitchen, especially after we added a dishwasher to the mix. Notwithstanding, it is on the small side, and one well-placed chair can very effectively block half of it. With that one chair, Elizabeth blocked the oven, the cupboard that holds the KitchenAid mixer, the garbage can, and the spice/baking cupboard. I have to drag the chair around, causing squeals to emerge from my toddler. They translate to (roughly) "Hey, you are getting in my way!" Then I stand on the chair behind her to reach into the upper cabinet to get the vanilla and baking soda. More squeals.
The banana bread loaves will be smaller than usual, I'm afraid. Everytime my back is turned, Elizabeth is grabbing a "taste" for her tongue with a finger or two. Our conversations were full of, "So 'Licious," "I be careful" and "I do it myself" on one side. The other, "Please don't put your finger in the batter," "You are going to spill (insert something messy here)..." and "It's Mommy's turn now." Hey, but I haven't lost my cool. Yet.
I finally get the loaf pans in the oven (with the remaining batter) and I turn around to see Elizabeth pulling her pudgy toddler fist from the baking soda box FULL of baking soda. I told her I didn't think she'd like it, but it went into her mouth anyway. (What does Mom know anyway?) But then she pulled a face (Ok, maybe Mom does know a thing or two) and dumped what was left into a dirty cup on the counter.