Last weekend, amidst my whirlwind of chores—mowing the lawn, showering, vacuuming, and prepping for a gathering—my 8-year-old daughter, Lily, requested a grilled cheese sandwich for lunch. “Can’t you make it yourself, sweetie?” I asked. “But Mommy,” she insisted, “I want you to make it.”
Of course, I understand the desire for someone to make you a sandwich. However, it’s essential that she learns these skills. A few years back, I discovered that my older kids, who were then 8 and 6, didn’t even know how to butter toast. It left me bewildered! I typically encourage my children to handle their homework, organize their belongings, and find solutions independently. They generally manage quite well, except for this fundamental task—one that even a chimpanzee could master.
This situation highlights a critical aspect of parenting: the desire to participate. I suggested to Lily, “How about you start on the sandwich? I’ll be here if you need support.” As I continued to tidy the kitchen, she responded with a whine, “But I don’t know how.” Deep breaths. “What do you think the first step is?”
The next 10 minutes were quite the spectacle. My intelligent child, who has witnessed countless grilled cheese creations, claimed she couldn’t even guess the first step. She couldn’t fathom that it might involve retrieving bread and cheese from the fridge.
Let’s be honest; my patience was wearing thin, and this was quite frustrating. Teaching kids to cook can be rewarding once they grasp the concepts, but the actual process can be exasperating—especially when teenage stubbornness and attitude enter the mix. It’s charming when they’re toddlers, “helping” by dumping sprinkles on cookies, and you capture that adorable moment for social media. But when they grow into smart tweens who suddenly act helpless, it’s a different story.
Now that my children are 6, 8, and 10, the stakes are higher in the kitchen. Despite the earlier grilled cheese debacle, they are generally willing to contribute. Since the infamous Butter-Spreading Incident of 2014, we’ve been focusing on essential cooking skills—using the stove, handling knives, measuring ingredients, and so forth. One of my children had a rather soggy oatmeal experience after misinterpreting “one cup of water” as a tall glass full. Another attempted to mix banana muffin batter in a minuscule bowl, resulting in a batter explosion. And let’s not forget the time the carrots were peeled down to mere slivers!
While it’s not always perfect, and we don’t achieve the level of MasterChef Junior at home, my kids are learning through their mistakes. The best part is witnessing their sense of pride and capability. My 6-year-old eagerly volunteers to flour and bread the chicken, while my 10-year-old is gearing up to learn how to steam mussels—an exciting new venture for us both. As for Lily, she eventually figured out the grilled cheese and has since become our household expert in crafting cheesy scrambled eggs.
Of course, there are days when time constraints lead me to take control of the kitchen, or when they simply don’t feel like cooking—something I completely understand. Sometimes, preparing dinner alone with a drink and a podcast is just more manageable. However, increasingly, they are stepping up and engaging, which I appreciate, even if it leads to a messy kitchen. After all, isn’t that what family life is about? Like cooking, it’s a series of blunders and imperfect moments that we navigate together.
This morning, I was treated to cinnamon raisin French toast, a collaborative effort by my 6- and 8-year-olds while I read at the kitchen table. It was delightful in every aspect.
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In summary, cooking with tweens can be chaotic, but the life skills they gain and the shared moments make it worthwhile. Embrace the messiness of family life; it’s all part of the journey.
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