Last weekend was a whirlwind for me, juggling lawn mowing, showering, vacuuming, and prepping snacks for an upcoming gathering. Amid the chaos, my 8-year-old son, Max, requested a grilled cheese sandwich for lunch. “Can’t you whip it up yourself, buddy?” I replied, hoping to encourage some independence. “But Mom,” he implored, “I really want you to make it.”
Ah, the allure of parental sandwiches—trust me, I get it. But Max needs to build some kitchen skills. A few years back, I realized that my two older kids, Alex and Lily, didn’t even know how to butter toast! Seriously, how is that possible? I pride myself on fostering independence in my kids, encouraging them to tackle homework and chores on their own. Yet, here we were, facing a task so simple that even a monkey could master it with minimal effort.
The challenge, clearly, is motivation. “How about you start, and I can help if you need it?” I suggested, trying to stay calm while tidying the kitchen. “But I have no idea how to begin,” he whined. After a deep breath, I asked, “What do you think is the first step?” What followed was a comical ten minutes of Max, a bright child who has seen countless grilled cheese sandwiches being made, lamenting that he couldn’t even guess the first move. To him, it might not even involve retrieving bread and cheese from the fridge!
Let’s be honest: my patience was wearing thin, and I was ready to take control. Teaching kids to cook can be a rewarding experience once they know their way around the kitchen, but the process can be tough—especially when dealing with the classic tween attitude and stubbornness. It’s adorable when they’re toddlers, “helping” by dumping sprinkles everywhere, but it’s less charming when they act helpless at an age where they should be more competent. Oof.
Now that my kids are 6, 8, and 10, the kitchen adventures are getting real! Despite the earlier grilled cheese debacle, they’re generally eager to help out. Since the infamous Butter-Spreading Incident of 2014, we’ve been working on various kitchen skills—handling knives, measuring ingredients, and so on. One time, Alex misinterpreted “one cup of water” and ended up with a pot of oatmeal that resembled a soup flood. Lily thought a tiny mixing bowl was sufficient for banana muffin batter and created a mini volcano of goo. Carrots have been peeled so aggressively that they’ve transformed into mere slivers!
It’s a chaotic scene, for sure. But even if our kitchen doesn’t resemble a MasterChef Junior episode, my kids are genuinely learning through these amusing mishaps. The best part? They’re feeling proud of what they accomplish. Max is now keen on flouring, egg-dipping, and breading chicken, while Alex is gearing up to steam mussels for the first time together. And that 8-year-old who once struggled with grilled cheese? He finally nailed it and has become the reigning champion of cheesy scrambled eggs.
Of course, there are moments when I just don’t have the energy for kitchen disasters, and I take the lead. Sometimes, they simply don’t feel like cooking—and that’s perfectly fine too. (And let’s face it; there are times when preparing dinner solo with a drink and a podcast is just plain easier.) However, more often than not, they’re stepping up and learning, and I wouldn’t trade these experiences for anything. Because really, isn’t that what family life is all about? Much like cooking, it’s a messy blend of mistakes and imperfect people figuring things out together.
This morning, I was pleasantly surprised with cinnamon raisin French toast, a delightful collaboration between Max and Alex while I lounged with my book at the kitchen table. It was delicious in every way possible!