Making Muffins

I enjoy baking. I have a tremendous sweet tooth. My "For My Sweet Tooth" board on Pinterest has more pins than any other board. The three are a lethal combination. Fortunately, I have some willpower, and not often enough ingredients to whip up a goodie to satisfy a sugar fix.

In this final stretch of time before I go back to work after nearly 12 weeks of glorious maternity leave, I've been trying to squeeze in little snippets of "mommy and me" time with the girls. Now that Averey's gone back to school, I've added a few extra activities for Kelsey: open gym time, a couple mornings at Millbrook Marsh, and this afternoon, some time in the kitchen making muffins for this week's breakfasts now that they gobbled down the banana bread.

For as much as I enjoy baking and would love to have the girls be more involved in the kitchen (would it help Averey overcome her pickiness?), our kitchen is just too small. You think you have a small kitchen? Trust me, you don't. I guess Jake's gram spent a lot of time in the kitchen when she lived here. I just have to wonder why she didn't say to his grandfather, "Ira! Build me a bigger kitchen!" I know we would've appreciated that.

Anyway, since the mix came from a box, I could easily transport the minimal ingredients to the dining room table and work there. I thought that something as simple as pouring water, oil, eggs and blueberries would be great to instill a little instruction for Kelsey, and some patience for me.

Not that it worked out that way. It went a little something like this...

(My back turned to her.) "Mommy! Look at me!" Kelsey had placed the glass bowl on her head like a hat.
"Nooo Kelsey! We don't put clean bowls on our heads!" (Or any bowls for that matter. But I didn't bother washing out the bowl. Her hair had just been washed. Don't judge.)

"Mmm! This tastes yummy!" (Back turned to her once again. You think I'd learn by now.) There was a nice fingerprint indent in the dry muffin mix. "We don't eat that!" (Although I would totally scoop out a spoonful of the stuff and eat it. But whatever.)

"I crack this egg, and you crack this egg!" she exclaimed, grabbing the eggs out of the carton.
"Kelsey, put the eggs back!"

"Can I eat the blueberries?"
"No Kelsey, we need them for the muffins."

And so on and so forth. I decided by that time I'd had enough and I would scoop the muffin mix into the baking cups, because I could see her three-year-old carefree demeanor spreading the goop all over the table.

Not exactly a success, but I shouldn't expect that right now. She enjoyed her time helping, even with me raising my voice, admonishing her for every little thing. But for her, I'm guessing it's the little things, like making muffins with mommy, that matter the most.