Tears and Tomatoes: Getting to the Heart of the Problem
September 11th, 2013
A couple weeks ago, Miss Mouse had an epic meltdown. It was truly impressive. I honestly can’t even remember what set her off, but she went into a wild frenzy of shrieks, kicks, and general fury. I followed her up to her room and sat on the chair while she raged in the little alcove where her bed is, hidden behind a curtain.
After a couple minutes, I could hear the tone of her voice change from fury to sorrow and she started sobbing in earnest. When I asked what was wrong, she flew out of the alcove, into my arms and exclaimed:
“Mommy! I don’t know how to cook. What if you die without teaching me and I never learn?”
I am quite certain that the start of her tantrum had absolutely nothing to do with food or cooking, but apparently her lack of kitchen expertise was weighing on her soul that day.
I resisted the urge to stare at her in squinty slack-jawed confusion and instead simply asked if she would like to help me in the kitchen more often. She agreed at once, and that was it. The tantrum was over.
I’ve been trying to keep up my end of the deal but inviting her to participate in the meal prep whenever I can. She loves to feel like she’s involved in making dinner, even if all she’s doing is picking up diced tomatoes and moving them into a bowl.
She also likes to crack eggs, measure dry ingredients, and sniff my spice bottles.
I’m not sure where her desire came from that day (aside from the very astute realization that if I ever die, the family will subsist on pizza and spaghetti) but I am glad it came out and that we can spend time in the kitchen together!