The business of the home

Sometimes parenting can be so obvious, yet we still don’t get it until it hits us in the face. Or in my case, until I read it in a book.

In one of my latest reads, the author talked about how children should learn the business of the home by following parents in their daily tasks. Big revelation. What common sense. But when I actually stopped to think, I realized that many of my “daily tasks” take place when they boys are, quite frankly, out of my hair.

Sure, it makes sense to let the children follow me around, soaking up the lessons of the day, but let’s face it, a mom can get a whole lot more done if the children aren’t underfoot. After all, how many times should we fold and re-fold seven loads of laundry? And how will we ever get supper by six if it takes two kids and a mom three hours to boil four eggs?

Of course, there is something to be said for picking the right opportunity for learning. Perhaps teaching a two year old to mop the kitchen floor is a lesson better saved for a time other than ten minutes before Sunday dinner. And what mom in her right mind would consider a lesson on making chocolate icing from scratch only 30minutes before a nap? Like most things in life, when parenting, timing is everything.

One of Cooper’s birthday gifts was a pen striped, nothing-but-Yankee step stool. The boys are always wanting to see what’s happening on the countertops in the kitchen, so this week, we put that present to use.

Right away, both boys were tiptoeing on the top step and looking for some action. I had a few boiled eggs that needed peeling, so I thought we’d give that a whirl. After all, what could be more fun to a couple of little boys than bangin’ eggs on the kitchen cabinet-with mom’s permission, of course. Predictably, they loved every minute of it. From the meticulous, two-fingered technique of the elder to the sledge hammer maneuver of his little brother, both boys were bangin’ eggs like a couple of old pros. But our fun didn’t stop there.

Before I could clean the breakfast dishes off the table, they were begging for “something to stir”. Without a clean pot to cook in, I quickly improvised with a small mixing bowl for each. They had already located the wooden spoons and spatulas and were ready to whip up something tasty.

As I scavenged my brain and every kitchen cabinet for the least messy ingredients, all I could come up with was a bag of dry beans. And that seemed to satisfy them. They each stirred those dry beans around in their bowls for all of about 30 seconds. That’s when Cooper decided “the recipe” called for something more.

They’d each found a measuring cup and insisted on something to pour, so I meagerly gave them both some water. That too, was fun for a moment, but a split-second later, they were looking for what Cooper’s recipe called “more greed-ants”. I assumed that meant “ingredients” and since we’d just had a pot of beans over the weekend, I supposed a little soda and salt would suffice. At least we could soak another batch for later.

After all of the stirring and sloshing around, I almost had the entire kitchen-children’s prep area excluded-clean and ready for our next real meal. Now that’s what I call an opportunity for learning. But it seemed my boys weren’t satisfied with pretending to cook; they really wanted to cook their creations. So we added a little pepper, at our little brother’s request, and put those beans to the fire.

I’d like to say it was the perfect supper for our not-so-perfect pack, but after beans all weekend, a bean supper on Monday, and a Tuesday school lunch-of what else but brown beans-we never even tasted our little boys’ concoctions. It seems we’d had about all the magical fruit one household can handle.

We did “stir up” a batch of sugar cookies, although between the three of us we had little left to bake. But the fun of the experience far outweighed the short-lived sugar high and the crash that came soon after.

Regardless of the time we spend completing tasks when our kids are not underfoot, I know that they really are learning the business of our home. Cooper still helps me put the wet clothes in the dryer, and his new favorite task is getting “all the cold stuff” on the supper table. Brisco is big on emptying the dish washer. I think he’s intrigued about the possibility of finding a crumb from a cupcake or a trace of cheddar cheese lying in the bottom of the silverware container. Whatever his motivation, he’s learning to do it, nonetheless.

I used to joke that I was the type who wouldn’t change a roll of toilet paper until I read somebody’s “how to” on the best way to get it done. But being a mom is slowly bringing me around. Whether it’s bangin’ eggs or finding something to stir, these boys of ours are finding ways to create their own opportunities for learning. And teaching me a thing or two in the process.

And that’s All in a day’s work!