Like so many other things, fall always reminds me of my mother, since we shared the same fall birthday. This appeared in Chicken Soup for the Soul Celebrates Mothers and Daughters.
I’ve heard it all my life, “You look just like your mother.” Not that I minded it. With red hair and “Wine with Everything” lipstick, Mama was as glamorous as a 1950’s movie star. Though I’ve never been the glamorous type, there was no denying I had my mother’s face—minus the lipstick.
Throughout her life, I observed an array of emotions on that face. When I was small, my mother’s face often wore a wrinkled brow, reflecting her fast paced determination to meet all the demands of caring for eight kids. As I grew older, her face revealed worry over problematic adolescents or my dad’s unpredictable antics.
When I was a teenager, my mother’s face mirrored her quick wit. Though I was never rebellious, I still thought myself pretty clever, and I certainly knew more than my mother did. At a very naïve sixteen, I came home from my waitressing job and handed her a napkin on which a boy had written his phone number and invited me out on a date. “What do you think of this?” I asked, pleased that someone from school would find me attractive. Her eyebrows arched as she tossed it back to me. “Use if for toilet paper,” she quipped.
As a wife, I intentionally sought to wear my mother’s face. She had me—her eighth child—on her thirty-fifth birthday. I had seven children by the time I was thirty-five. During those years, my mother’s face beamed approval with each pregnancy announced. When everyone else was questioning my decision to have such a large family, I knew my mother would relish my news. After the arrival of each baby, my mother’s glowing face was always one of the first I saw.
When my mother got cancer, I briefly lost sight of the beauty of her face. Distracted by mottled skin and the loss of her lovely red hair, I grieved losing the mother I had always known. I mourned the inevitable altered course of life as this woman who managed her housework much like a Navy captain ran his ship now needed a walker to even saunter to the bathroom. As I trailed behind her to keep her steady, I reflected on how, without her hair, she had an uncanny resemblance to her own father. But during the months of caring for her, each time I drew eyebrows on her with pencil or assisted her with her lipstick, I began to see glimpses of my mother’s face. And—whether through turban fashion shows or outrageous bathroom jokes—when her sense of humor again shone like a lighthouse during the greatest trial of her life, I saw her face as I had never seen it—so steadfast, so strong.
As the inoperable tumor in my mother’s throat grew to the size of an orange, I watched desperation, panic and anxiety—but never surrender—govern her face. “Go forward,” she whispered with labored breath and raucous voice to the doctor’s inquiry of the next step to take. She had much to live for, and to the end she wore her game face.
I was with her the night a simple breathing treatment triggered coughing and her coughing evolved into choking. As I smashed the button to call the nurse, my mother’s face was pure fear. As she mouthed, “I can’t breathe, I can’t breathe!” and the nurses rushed me out of the room, the look on her face is something I will never forget—it is stamped in my mind like a terrible song stuck on repeat. Though she lived thirty-six more hours, she remained unconscious.
I wasn’t with my mother when she drew her last breath. Consequently, as I approached the doors of the funeral home, part of me feared seeing her lying lifeless in a casket. Then, as I crept toward her, I remembered her face. Deliberately ignoring her counterfeit hair that hid cancer’s scars, shunning her hands so gnarled from fighting cancer’s battle, I kept my eyes on her face.
The face that had guided me and given me strength. The face that personified determination both in life and in death. The face that I had always been told I had, but knew I could never have, really. As long as I live I will never quit trying to wear my mother’s face.
Thursday, October 18, 2007
Wednesday, October 17, 2007
Angels In Our Midst
I was amazed at the way this young woman was touching the lives of children. We all need such a person in our lives when tragedy strikes. This appeared in Memphis Parent in 2003.
When Angela Hamblin got her first job working with terminally ill children at a camp in Eustice, Florida, it was love at first sight. She tried other areas in social work such as drug and alcohol rehab and is filled with admiration for those who champion the cause. But Angela knew from the start that children were her passion.
As a Bereavement Supervisor for Hospice at Baptist Trinity Healthcare, Angela focuses on helping her terminally ill patients cope with pain and grief. When it came to helping the children left behind, however, she felt neither she nor they had anywhere to turn. After pulling community resources and receiving a grant from Baptist Memorial Hospital, Camp Good Grief was born, equipping Angela to fulfill her passion of reaching hurting children.
Jessicagrace DeVries, 9, is just one of the many children who have been touched by Angela. After losing her father, George, to brain cancer when she was seven, Jessicagrace began to internalize her grief. “Now I know it is okay to cry because of what Angela taught me at Camp Good Grief,” says Jessicagrace, who found her release in writing a letter to her father and sending it up in a balloon during camp. “Each person took turns letting go,” she adds, “and at first I didn’t want anyone to see me cry, but then Angela was there with me, and I knew it was okay.”
“God sent Angela to us when we were going through the deepest sadness of our lives,” says Jessicagrace’s mother, Sandy. “She saw things I couldn’t see, wrapping her arms around my daughter and reaching her in a way that I couldn’t because I was dealing with my own grief.”
Angela encourages children to get comfortable with grief, in essence redefining the meaning of the word. “By naming the camp “Good Grief” we are trying to communicate that grief is part of the healing process, and that is a very healthy thing.”
And how did Angela become so comfortable with grief that she could make it her full time job? “People can’t believe I do what I do,” says Angela, “but I just respond by stressing that we all have different gifts.
That’s just what an angel would say.
When Angela Hamblin got her first job working with terminally ill children at a camp in Eustice, Florida, it was love at first sight. She tried other areas in social work such as drug and alcohol rehab and is filled with admiration for those who champion the cause. But Angela knew from the start that children were her passion.
As a Bereavement Supervisor for Hospice at Baptist Trinity Healthcare, Angela focuses on helping her terminally ill patients cope with pain and grief. When it came to helping the children left behind, however, she felt neither she nor they had anywhere to turn. After pulling community resources and receiving a grant from Baptist Memorial Hospital, Camp Good Grief was born, equipping Angela to fulfill her passion of reaching hurting children.
Jessicagrace DeVries, 9, is just one of the many children who have been touched by Angela. After losing her father, George, to brain cancer when she was seven, Jessicagrace began to internalize her grief. “Now I know it is okay to cry because of what Angela taught me at Camp Good Grief,” says Jessicagrace, who found her release in writing a letter to her father and sending it up in a balloon during camp. “Each person took turns letting go,” she adds, “and at first I didn’t want anyone to see me cry, but then Angela was there with me, and I knew it was okay.”
“God sent Angela to us when we were going through the deepest sadness of our lives,” says Jessicagrace’s mother, Sandy. “She saw things I couldn’t see, wrapping her arms around my daughter and reaching her in a way that I couldn’t because I was dealing with my own grief.”
Angela encourages children to get comfortable with grief, in essence redefining the meaning of the word. “By naming the camp “Good Grief” we are trying to communicate that grief is part of the healing process, and that is a very healthy thing.”
And how did Angela become so comfortable with grief that she could make it her full time job? “People can’t believe I do what I do,” says Angela, “but I just respond by stressing that we all have different gifts.
That’s just what an angel would say.
Wednesday, October 10, 2007
Blessings In Disguise
I was never able to publish this piece, but thought it might bring a chuckle, nonethelss. Hard to believe I've had four more kids since I wrote this. It is good to go back and remember.
I had a rare and unusual experience last week: all five of my children gobbled down dinner (chicken and dumplings was the strategy, in case you’re wondering) and four of them even asked for seconds! Then (and this is the clincher) I heard echoes of “Great dinner, Mom!” It was truly a red letter dining experience. Now, usually, when attempting a home made meal, I receive moans and groans from at least half the crowd. But let me open a box of Kraft macaroni and cheese and I’m an instant hero. Life with kids. Unpredictable, isn’t it? And with such a variety at my house, every moment brings something to make me laugh...or cry.
Just the other day I was having a proud moment (for a moment) as my eldest three were busy doing their chores. Matching socks, endless socks, cleaning mirrors, folding towels. I was proud of those hard workers. Then six-year-old Matthew piped up. “Mom,” he said innocently, “if you would do some chores, too, the house would stay a lot cleaner.” Where has this kid been?
Eleven-year-old Tiger (a nick name, of course) spotted a pair of his socks in the garbage while he was taking out the trash. “Don’t throw away those socks!” he said vehemently as he held up some once white socks with colossal holes both in the heels and the toes. “Those are great socks! They have A/C!” As long as it’s his job to take out the garbage, I have to be more careful about what I leave in there.
Then there’s Ben, who at three is not quite out of his (wonderful) terrible two’s yet. And right behind him little curly, red-headed Mary Katherine, who at one (God bless her) has not quite reached her terrible two’s. But I know they’re coming.
But in between the dinners and the diapers and the eternal terrible two’s are those moments that capture a mother’s heart. The marriage proposals I’ve received from my sons, for instance, or having coffee with Bethany, who at age nine adores the stuff as much as I do. (Don’t worry, our coffee’s together are rare).
It’s these moments, though, that remind me that the greatest blessings I’ll ever know in this life are disguised behind those finicky, wrinkled up noses seated each night around my dinner table.
I had a rare and unusual experience last week: all five of my children gobbled down dinner (chicken and dumplings was the strategy, in case you’re wondering) and four of them even asked for seconds! Then (and this is the clincher) I heard echoes of “Great dinner, Mom!” It was truly a red letter dining experience. Now, usually, when attempting a home made meal, I receive moans and groans from at least half the crowd. But let me open a box of Kraft macaroni and cheese and I’m an instant hero. Life with kids. Unpredictable, isn’t it? And with such a variety at my house, every moment brings something to make me laugh...or cry.
Just the other day I was having a proud moment (for a moment) as my eldest three were busy doing their chores. Matching socks, endless socks, cleaning mirrors, folding towels. I was proud of those hard workers. Then six-year-old Matthew piped up. “Mom,” he said innocently, “if you would do some chores, too, the house would stay a lot cleaner.” Where has this kid been?
Eleven-year-old Tiger (a nick name, of course) spotted a pair of his socks in the garbage while he was taking out the trash. “Don’t throw away those socks!” he said vehemently as he held up some once white socks with colossal holes both in the heels and the toes. “Those are great socks! They have A/C!” As long as it’s his job to take out the garbage, I have to be more careful about what I leave in there.
Then there’s Ben, who at three is not quite out of his (wonderful) terrible two’s yet. And right behind him little curly, red-headed Mary Katherine, who at one (God bless her) has not quite reached her terrible two’s. But I know they’re coming.
But in between the dinners and the diapers and the eternal terrible two’s are those moments that capture a mother’s heart. The marriage proposals I’ve received from my sons, for instance, or having coffee with Bethany, who at age nine adores the stuff as much as I do. (Don’t worry, our coffee’s together are rare).
It’s these moments, though, that remind me that the greatest blessings I’ll ever know in this life are disguised behind those finicky, wrinkled up noses seated each night around my dinner table.
Thursday, October 4, 2007
Hiring a Mothers Helper
I managed to get to the grocery store by myself today but did spot a mom with three wailing preschoolers. I remember those days (and am still in them, in fact). But my discovery this year of a Mother's Helper has changed my life, so I wanted to share it. Conclusion: A little help goes a long way.
This piece appeared in the June, 2007, issue of Memphis Parent.
“Mrs. Sims,” my babysitter piped up while I was writing her a check after a recent dinner out, “I charge $5 an hour for babysitting, but I only charge $2 an hour for being a Mother’s Helper.” While I was a little sketchy on what a Mother’s Helper was, I did know one thing: Clare was hired. After all, with my ninth (yes, ninth) child soon to arrive, I had been pondering an affordable way to make it all work. A Mother’s Helper seemed a good place to start. As of this writing, I have just completed my first week of having a Mother’s Helper, and I wonder how I’ve managed without her. She falls somewhere between a big sister and Maria Von Trapp, and her presence changes the whole dynamic of our household. Whether you’re a stay at home or a mom who works outside the home, here are some guidelines to help you find that extra pair of hands.
Make your expectations clear. Clare’s first week took place the last week of February, during my kids’ winter break (a much anticipated time off here in Vermont). A few weeks before she came, I sent her a note via email as a friendly guideline of what my expectations were and when she would be paid (at the end of every week). Every morning when she arrived, I briefed her on the day’s agenda.
What a MH does. As the saying goes, you have to inspect what you expect. Good advice, but I often fail to follow up on my kids’ responsibilities. Consequently, this is one area I knew I needed my MH’s assistance. I give her a list of my children’s chores, and she oversees them, making sure they are done completely. ·
What a MH doesn’t do. It is important to remember that a Mother’s Helper is not a housekeeper, cook or maid. I am certain if I had my MH cleaning bathrooms and doing laundry instead of the hands-on activities with the kids, everyone in the house would be frustrated.
Find a good fit. Make sure your choice for a MH is compatible not only with your children but also with you. While a confident MH is a plus, an over-confident helper is a minus. Remember this is not usually a sitter, so it needs to be someone with whom you are compatible; someone who works with you more than for you. (Though I have found that having a Mother’s Helper who is also old enough to baby-sit when I need her to is a real advantage.)
In case of a misfit. If you’re unsure about your choice for a MH, do a trial-run (without necessarily telling her it’s a trial run) to find out if the fit is a good one. If you find success during the initial period (success being defined as when the positives outweigh the negatives) offer your Mother’s Helper a long-term job.
Working out the particulars. When Clare completes one week I give her a head’s up for the next week, so she can check her schedule. I pay at week’s end, and, just so we’re clear, I make sure to write out an invoice showing her hours and pay rate. Though her mom offered to bring her over and pick her up every day (she lives just down the street), I arrange our outings so that I can drop her off on the way home whenever possible.
Be flexible. As our first week together progressed, I decided to switch from a list of structured chores to “seven minutes of cleanup” where all the kids get as much done as they can in seven minutes. The kids seem to respond to this better than having Clare oversee their chores. Inspection, I concluded, is still up to me, and that’s as it should be.
Addressing discipline issues. She handles spats, while bigger issues are brought to my attention. Either way, I’ve made it clear to my kids: Even though I’m home, Clare is also in charge. One word of caution: Age difference between your children and your MH is something to keep in mind. While I made it clear both to my kids and to my MH that she is in charge of my kids ages 10 and under, I made it just as clear that my almost 12 year old won’t need her supervision like my younger kids do.
Having a Mother’s Helper has made me a better mother. Thanks to Clare’s presence, my kids read more, watched less TV and tried new crafts, and I have thoroughly scolded myself for waiting until my ninth child is on the way to find that extra pair of hands. Her presence this week has taken the edge off of being a stay at home mom. As summer approaches, I know that even with a new baby in a house already bustling with activity, this ship will keep running. After all, help is on the way.
Sidebar: Snapshot of the first week
Monday 9-12 Since they already know her as our babysitter, the younger kids shriek with excitement when she arrives. She immediately gets to work: takes them sledding, fixes lunch, bakes and decorates cookies, and plays games. Our first day was a huge success, and the kids beg her to stay longer.
Tuesday 9-12 Since the kids had their fill of sledding yesterday, Clare paints their faces, unbothered that we have three extra guests today, as I am sitting for a friend (she also refuses the bonus I offer her for the additional kids, which I pay her anyway). I leave for a while to go to the doctor (during which time her pay increases) and find her fixing lunch for everyone when I return. Before she leaves, she offers to stay the whole day on Thursday or Friday. I know immediately I will take her up on it.
Wednesday 9-12 Today after a sock-matching marathon for the eighteen feet in our house followed by Shrinky-Dink ® fun, Clare accompanies us to the library where we swap out supervising my two-year-old and helping my older children find books. On the way home I drive through McDonald’s for lunch, and Clare offers (twice) to have the cost of her meal deducted from her pay. “No way,” I remind her, “that is just one of the perks of being my Mother’s Helper.”
Thursday 9-3 Since this is the day of Clare’s extended hours, I decide to take a rare solo shopping trip. I call to check in and find my youngest son has thrown a tantrum over sharing his snowboard. She reassures me that she handled it, though, and I vow to talk to him when I get home. Though the house is a little messy upon my arrival, I declare a “seven-minute-clean up” and order is restored. I note that Clare helps the kids clean up without being asked.
Friday 9-1 Clare may go skiing with her family today, but a snowstorm brings a change of plans, and my husband notices my change in mood (and energy level) the minute I get a call saying she is coming after all. After she takes them sledding, I fix lunch while she reads Little Women to the kids—something I can never seem to get around to doing. When it’s time for her to leave, the kids ask when she is coming back. She’ll be back, I reassure them. That I can promise.
This piece appeared in the June, 2007, issue of Memphis Parent.
“Mrs. Sims,” my babysitter piped up while I was writing her a check after a recent dinner out, “I charge $5 an hour for babysitting, but I only charge $2 an hour for being a Mother’s Helper.” While I was a little sketchy on what a Mother’s Helper was, I did know one thing: Clare was hired. After all, with my ninth (yes, ninth) child soon to arrive, I had been pondering an affordable way to make it all work. A Mother’s Helper seemed a good place to start. As of this writing, I have just completed my first week of having a Mother’s Helper, and I wonder how I’ve managed without her. She falls somewhere between a big sister and Maria Von Trapp, and her presence changes the whole dynamic of our household. Whether you’re a stay at home or a mom who works outside the home, here are some guidelines to help you find that extra pair of hands.
Make your expectations clear. Clare’s first week took place the last week of February, during my kids’ winter break (a much anticipated time off here in Vermont). A few weeks before she came, I sent her a note via email as a friendly guideline of what my expectations were and when she would be paid (at the end of every week). Every morning when she arrived, I briefed her on the day’s agenda.
What a MH does. As the saying goes, you have to inspect what you expect. Good advice, but I often fail to follow up on my kids’ responsibilities. Consequently, this is one area I knew I needed my MH’s assistance. I give her a list of my children’s chores, and she oversees them, making sure they are done completely. ·
What a MH doesn’t do. It is important to remember that a Mother’s Helper is not a housekeeper, cook or maid. I am certain if I had my MH cleaning bathrooms and doing laundry instead of the hands-on activities with the kids, everyone in the house would be frustrated.
Find a good fit. Make sure your choice for a MH is compatible not only with your children but also with you. While a confident MH is a plus, an over-confident helper is a minus. Remember this is not usually a sitter, so it needs to be someone with whom you are compatible; someone who works with you more than for you. (Though I have found that having a Mother’s Helper who is also old enough to baby-sit when I need her to is a real advantage.)
In case of a misfit. If you’re unsure about your choice for a MH, do a trial-run (without necessarily telling her it’s a trial run) to find out if the fit is a good one. If you find success during the initial period (success being defined as when the positives outweigh the negatives) offer your Mother’s Helper a long-term job.
Working out the particulars. When Clare completes one week I give her a head’s up for the next week, so she can check her schedule. I pay at week’s end, and, just so we’re clear, I make sure to write out an invoice showing her hours and pay rate. Though her mom offered to bring her over and pick her up every day (she lives just down the street), I arrange our outings so that I can drop her off on the way home whenever possible.
Be flexible. As our first week together progressed, I decided to switch from a list of structured chores to “seven minutes of cleanup” where all the kids get as much done as they can in seven minutes. The kids seem to respond to this better than having Clare oversee their chores. Inspection, I concluded, is still up to me, and that’s as it should be.
Addressing discipline issues. She handles spats, while bigger issues are brought to my attention. Either way, I’ve made it clear to my kids: Even though I’m home, Clare is also in charge. One word of caution: Age difference between your children and your MH is something to keep in mind. While I made it clear both to my kids and to my MH that she is in charge of my kids ages 10 and under, I made it just as clear that my almost 12 year old won’t need her supervision like my younger kids do.
Having a Mother’s Helper has made me a better mother. Thanks to Clare’s presence, my kids read more, watched less TV and tried new crafts, and I have thoroughly scolded myself for waiting until my ninth child is on the way to find that extra pair of hands. Her presence this week has taken the edge off of being a stay at home mom. As summer approaches, I know that even with a new baby in a house already bustling with activity, this ship will keep running. After all, help is on the way.
Sidebar: Snapshot of the first week
Monday 9-12 Since they already know her as our babysitter, the younger kids shriek with excitement when she arrives. She immediately gets to work: takes them sledding, fixes lunch, bakes and decorates cookies, and plays games. Our first day was a huge success, and the kids beg her to stay longer.
Tuesday 9-12 Since the kids had their fill of sledding yesterday, Clare paints their faces, unbothered that we have three extra guests today, as I am sitting for a friend (she also refuses the bonus I offer her for the additional kids, which I pay her anyway). I leave for a while to go to the doctor (during which time her pay increases) and find her fixing lunch for everyone when I return. Before she leaves, she offers to stay the whole day on Thursday or Friday. I know immediately I will take her up on it.
Wednesday 9-12 Today after a sock-matching marathon for the eighteen feet in our house followed by Shrinky-Dink ® fun, Clare accompanies us to the library where we swap out supervising my two-year-old and helping my older children find books. On the way home I drive through McDonald’s for lunch, and Clare offers (twice) to have the cost of her meal deducted from her pay. “No way,” I remind her, “that is just one of the perks of being my Mother’s Helper.”
Thursday 9-3 Since this is the day of Clare’s extended hours, I decide to take a rare solo shopping trip. I call to check in and find my youngest son has thrown a tantrum over sharing his snowboard. She reassures me that she handled it, though, and I vow to talk to him when I get home. Though the house is a little messy upon my arrival, I declare a “seven-minute-clean up” and order is restored. I note that Clare helps the kids clean up without being asked.
Friday 9-1 Clare may go skiing with her family today, but a snowstorm brings a change of plans, and my husband notices my change in mood (and energy level) the minute I get a call saying she is coming after all. After she takes them sledding, I fix lunch while she reads Little Women to the kids—something I can never seem to get around to doing. When it’s time for her to leave, the kids ask when she is coming back. She’ll be back, I reassure them. That I can promise.
Wednesday, October 3, 2007
Cooking With Kids
With fall in the air, I begin to think of baking with my kids--which can be a real pain, I admit. This appeared both in Focus on Your Child and later in Memphis Parent.
“May I be the stirrer?” my four-year-old squealed when she saw me cracking the eggs at breakfast. I held the bowl low, guiding her hand with mine to demonstrate before letting her have a go at it herself. She then skipped away, her culinary curiosity satisfied. On the whole, the process added an additional 45 seconds to my cook time.
I know from experience that my daughter was not the only four year old asking to help in the kitchen this morning. The thought of cooking with young children, however, is enough to cause any parent to approach the kitchen like a spy on a mission. If that is often the case at your house, follow these clues, call in reinforcements (i.e.: your kids) and create memories that will linger long after both the mission and the dishes are done.
Educate
Cooking is an essential part of life that, like it or not, we all need to know how to do, stresses Marianne Dambra, founder of Kidsrcooking.com. Dambra, who teaches “Cool Cooking” workshops for parents and kids around the country, urges parents to focus on the variety of skills involved in cooking—math, science, reading, cooperation and problem solving, to name a few. “When it comes to cooking,” she adds, “we must ask ourselves not what a child learns, but what doesn’t a child learn? That's why cooking with children is so important.”
Anticipate
Probably the number one thing that keeps parents from cooking with kids is the inevitable mess that will accompany the cooking lesson. Laura Hatcher, Covington, Tennessee, mother of five, says that anticipating the mess helps alleviate frustration. By simply reminding herself that her kids are going to be messy, Hatcher says, she is ready to accept it from the beginning.
Starting with simple recipes is one “less mess” strategy parents can use. Playdough is a good starter, in addition to recipes such as pudding or frozen orange juice concentrate in which no cooking is required. If you’re in the kitchen with spoons and bowls and ingredients, in a child’s mind, you’re cooking.
Celebrate
While parents may anticipate the mess, kids will anticipate the fun. Again, parents should simplify to help keep the stress level at a minimum. For those who have to work at having fun when kids are in the kitchen, opting for short cuts is one way to cut stress. Whether kids are slicing refrigerated cookie dough or adding toppings to ready-made pizza crusts, getting a glimpse of the grown up world is what makes cooking such a celebration in the mind of a child. But parents needn’t save cooking with children merely for cookie baking or pizza topping but rather use the cooking opportunity to encourage their kids to broaden their horizons and try new foods.
Motivate
For Sue Wynn, teacher at St. Louis School and mother of Dino and Mario Grissanti of Memphis, Tennessee, restaurant fame, fun quickly turned to inspiration. “From the time the boys were very young they would help me at home with the baking or rolling out dough,” says Wynn, “then as they got older, they wore the aprons and waited tables at the restaurant.” The inspiration they found in the kitchen as children has carried over into adulthood, as both boys pursued culinary careers.
Even if your kids don’t grow up to be chefs, regular exposure to food preparation is still valuable. Wendy Owen, Knoxville mother of two, finds her children gain a sense of pride and joy when they are able to help shop for and prepare meals. Even very young children can check off a list, help weigh and wash vegetables and set the table.
Initiate
It is important for parents to identify what hampers them from cooking with their children. Some parents, for instance, may not trust their kids around kitchen tools. Instead of keeping tools off limits, however, parents could instead take the initiative and incorporate kitchen safety into the cooking session.
Most parents testify it is difficult to find the time and energy to enter the kitchen with kids. In just a few designated hours, however, what began as bothersome will evolve into beneficial for parents who stay on task. The key is to capture their interest while they’re at their peak of enthusiasm—usually age 8 or 9—and foster it so they can grow more independent in the kitchen. With a little organization and forethought, kids and parents will exit the (clean) kitchen with the same satisfying assumption in mind: mission accomplished.
Sidebar: Tips for cooking with kids (Source: kidsrcooking.com)
• Don't worry about the end product
• Remember: The less you do the more the children will learn and retain
• It does not take a lot of equipment or a real kitchen to cook
• Choose foolproof recipes for your first cooking activity such as orange juice or playdough
• The rewards will outnumber hassles in cooking
• Have the children be a part of everything -- setup, cooking, cleanup, etc.
• Not all recipes need to be baked or cooked
Remember, have fun!
Sidebar: Sources for Cooking with Kids
• Forty Carrots 4690 Spottswood Ave. Audubon Place Shopping Center A gourmet cooking supply store, offers classes in Christmas cookie magic November 3, 10-12:30 6835187
• Kidsrcooking.com Founder Marianne Dambra’s whimsical website merits a visit. A surplus of ideas and recipes plus descriptions of a variety of workshops for parents and children (toddlers through school age).
• Kids’ Culinary & Chef Noni A program that fosters the safety of cooking, making memories, manners and clean up. Call Dino at 278-9127 to schedule.
• University of Memphis Continuing Education 678-6000. Tentative cooking classes are planned for 2002. Look for new catalogue in the January 6 edition of The Commercial Appeal.
Sidebar: Kid-Friendly Recipes (Source: Bonnie Roelofs)
FRENCH BANANAS WITH CREAM
¼ cup butter
¼ cup brown sugar
¼ tsp. cinnamon
¼ tsp. nutmeg
½ cup half-and-half
5-6 firm bananas, halved lengthwise and crosswise
whipped cream for garnish
Melt butter in a large skillet. Stir in brown sugar, cinnamon and nutmeg. Stir in half-and-half and cook until slightly thickened. Add bananas to skillet; heat for 2-3 minutes, spooning sauce over them. To serve, place 2 banana pieces with a little sauce for each serving, and top with a dollop of whipped cream.
CHICKEN HOT POCKETS
2 cup cooked chicken, chopped
1 3-oz. pkg. cream cheese, softened
2 tbsp. milk
1 tbsp. diced chives, optional
salt to taste
2 8-oz. refrigerated crescent rolls
½ cup seasoned bread crumbs, crushed
¼ cup melted butter or margarine
Mix together chicken, cream cheese, milk, chives and salt for filling. Preheat oven to 350. Unroll crescent rolls; each tube will contain 4 rectangles of dough with a diagonal perforation. Press dough along each perforation so the rectangle halves will not separate. Place about ¼ cup of chicken mixture into the center of each rectangle. Fold dough over the filling and pinch the edges to seal tightly, or crimp with a fork. Brush each pocket with melted butter and coat with bread crumbs. Place pockets on a baking sheet and bake for 20 minutes or until golden brown. Makes 8.
Bonnie Roelofs, a U of M Continuing Ed. instructor, encourages parents to allow children to experience small culinary victories at first. Simple steps such as stirring, pouring or holding the mixer are great confidence builders. Roelofs stresses the importance of parents including children in the things they are going to do anyway in order to educate and equip them with this basic life skill.
“May I be the stirrer?” my four-year-old squealed when she saw me cracking the eggs at breakfast. I held the bowl low, guiding her hand with mine to demonstrate before letting her have a go at it herself. She then skipped away, her culinary curiosity satisfied. On the whole, the process added an additional 45 seconds to my cook time.
I know from experience that my daughter was not the only four year old asking to help in the kitchen this morning. The thought of cooking with young children, however, is enough to cause any parent to approach the kitchen like a spy on a mission. If that is often the case at your house, follow these clues, call in reinforcements (i.e.: your kids) and create memories that will linger long after both the mission and the dishes are done.
Educate
Cooking is an essential part of life that, like it or not, we all need to know how to do, stresses Marianne Dambra, founder of Kidsrcooking.com. Dambra, who teaches “Cool Cooking” workshops for parents and kids around the country, urges parents to focus on the variety of skills involved in cooking—math, science, reading, cooperation and problem solving, to name a few. “When it comes to cooking,” she adds, “we must ask ourselves not what a child learns, but what doesn’t a child learn? That's why cooking with children is so important.”
Anticipate
Probably the number one thing that keeps parents from cooking with kids is the inevitable mess that will accompany the cooking lesson. Laura Hatcher, Covington, Tennessee, mother of five, says that anticipating the mess helps alleviate frustration. By simply reminding herself that her kids are going to be messy, Hatcher says, she is ready to accept it from the beginning.
Starting with simple recipes is one “less mess” strategy parents can use. Playdough is a good starter, in addition to recipes such as pudding or frozen orange juice concentrate in which no cooking is required. If you’re in the kitchen with spoons and bowls and ingredients, in a child’s mind, you’re cooking.
Celebrate
While parents may anticipate the mess, kids will anticipate the fun. Again, parents should simplify to help keep the stress level at a minimum. For those who have to work at having fun when kids are in the kitchen, opting for short cuts is one way to cut stress. Whether kids are slicing refrigerated cookie dough or adding toppings to ready-made pizza crusts, getting a glimpse of the grown up world is what makes cooking such a celebration in the mind of a child. But parents needn’t save cooking with children merely for cookie baking or pizza topping but rather use the cooking opportunity to encourage their kids to broaden their horizons and try new foods.
Motivate
For Sue Wynn, teacher at St. Louis School and mother of Dino and Mario Grissanti of Memphis, Tennessee, restaurant fame, fun quickly turned to inspiration. “From the time the boys were very young they would help me at home with the baking or rolling out dough,” says Wynn, “then as they got older, they wore the aprons and waited tables at the restaurant.” The inspiration they found in the kitchen as children has carried over into adulthood, as both boys pursued culinary careers.
Even if your kids don’t grow up to be chefs, regular exposure to food preparation is still valuable. Wendy Owen, Knoxville mother of two, finds her children gain a sense of pride and joy when they are able to help shop for and prepare meals. Even very young children can check off a list, help weigh and wash vegetables and set the table.
Initiate
It is important for parents to identify what hampers them from cooking with their children. Some parents, for instance, may not trust their kids around kitchen tools. Instead of keeping tools off limits, however, parents could instead take the initiative and incorporate kitchen safety into the cooking session.
Most parents testify it is difficult to find the time and energy to enter the kitchen with kids. In just a few designated hours, however, what began as bothersome will evolve into beneficial for parents who stay on task. The key is to capture their interest while they’re at their peak of enthusiasm—usually age 8 or 9—and foster it so they can grow more independent in the kitchen. With a little organization and forethought, kids and parents will exit the (clean) kitchen with the same satisfying assumption in mind: mission accomplished.
Sidebar: Tips for cooking with kids (Source: kidsrcooking.com)
• Don't worry about the end product
• Remember: The less you do the more the children will learn and retain
• It does not take a lot of equipment or a real kitchen to cook
• Choose foolproof recipes for your first cooking activity such as orange juice or playdough
• The rewards will outnumber hassles in cooking
• Have the children be a part of everything -- setup, cooking, cleanup, etc.
• Not all recipes need to be baked or cooked
Remember, have fun!
Sidebar: Sources for Cooking with Kids
• Forty Carrots 4690 Spottswood Ave. Audubon Place Shopping Center A gourmet cooking supply store, offers classes in Christmas cookie magic November 3, 10-12:30 6835187
• Kidsrcooking.com Founder Marianne Dambra’s whimsical website merits a visit. A surplus of ideas and recipes plus descriptions of a variety of workshops for parents and children (toddlers through school age).
• Kids’ Culinary & Chef Noni A program that fosters the safety of cooking, making memories, manners and clean up. Call Dino at 278-9127 to schedule.
• University of Memphis Continuing Education 678-6000. Tentative cooking classes are planned for 2002. Look for new catalogue in the January 6 edition of The Commercial Appeal.
Sidebar: Kid-Friendly Recipes (Source: Bonnie Roelofs)
FRENCH BANANAS WITH CREAM
¼ cup butter
¼ cup brown sugar
¼ tsp. cinnamon
¼ tsp. nutmeg
½ cup half-and-half
5-6 firm bananas, halved lengthwise and crosswise
whipped cream for garnish
Melt butter in a large skillet. Stir in brown sugar, cinnamon and nutmeg. Stir in half-and-half and cook until slightly thickened. Add bananas to skillet; heat for 2-3 minutes, spooning sauce over them. To serve, place 2 banana pieces with a little sauce for each serving, and top with a dollop of whipped cream.
CHICKEN HOT POCKETS
2 cup cooked chicken, chopped
1 3-oz. pkg. cream cheese, softened
2 tbsp. milk
1 tbsp. diced chives, optional
salt to taste
2 8-oz. refrigerated crescent rolls
½ cup seasoned bread crumbs, crushed
¼ cup melted butter or margarine
Mix together chicken, cream cheese, milk, chives and salt for filling. Preheat oven to 350. Unroll crescent rolls; each tube will contain 4 rectangles of dough with a diagonal perforation. Press dough along each perforation so the rectangle halves will not separate. Place about ¼ cup of chicken mixture into the center of each rectangle. Fold dough over the filling and pinch the edges to seal tightly, or crimp with a fork. Brush each pocket with melted butter and coat with bread crumbs. Place pockets on a baking sheet and bake for 20 minutes or until golden brown. Makes 8.
Bonnie Roelofs, a U of M Continuing Ed. instructor, encourages parents to allow children to experience small culinary victories at first. Simple steps such as stirring, pouring or holding the mixer are great confidence builders. Roelofs stresses the importance of parents including children in the things they are going to do anyway in order to educate and equip them with this basic life skill.
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