Iron Chef Mama

This week Benjamin added “cooking” to his vocabulary.  Lest you think it’s because we spend so much time in the kitchen together making homemade croutons and whatnot, it’s from me saying 59 times an hour: “Not now, I’m cooking!”

He does, however, help me on occasion with some pouring and stirring.  I brought down a bowl of eggs to the floor for him to whisk.  He was not putting in a lot of effort, so I took the whisk and showed him how to stir more vigorously.  “Like this,” I said, “Stir-stir-stir-stir-stir!”

He watched me stirring, looked up at me, and said: “Wow!”

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[And where is Jonah during all this?  He’s off hiding behind the drapes and telling himself “no, no!” because he knows he not supposed to be hiding behind the drapes.]

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From an article in the Wall Street Journal  “On laundry day, Jodie Galland goes into her kids’ four bedrooms and empties the hampers.  But instead of lugging all of the laundry downstairs she simply tosses the clothes into the washer and dryer in each room’s walk-in-closet.  ‘I love it,” says Ms. Galland, 39 years old, who also has machines in the master bedroom of her 11,000 square foot home in Provo, Utah, and another set in the utility room near the kitchen.  “The clothes pretty much stay in their closet.”

Excessive, yes, but would’ve come in handy last year during the Here-a-Puke, There-a-Puke, Everywhere-a-Puke-Puke phase.