
- Ava
Ava is two years old. She’s an amazing, smart, energetic toddler. She talks a blue streak and loves just about anything and everything; and she’s a tornado in the kitchen. There’s nothing in that room that doesn’t interest her or that she doesn’t want to just dive right into. This makes me tremendously happy. I have loved cooking for almost 15 years, and so naturally I longed to share my passion with my first child. When I was pregnant with Ava, my favorite day dream was that she would grow into a little girl that would love to cook and bake with me in the kitchen. When she was an infant I would prop her up in a bouncy seat where she would happily sit, cooing in that sweet little baby voice and batting at her toys while I mixed and measured, peeled and chopped. A few months later she graduated to the exersaucer, where she giggled and bounced and babbled and gummed on her teething fish while all the while I cooked up a storm. It was kind of nice to have a captive audience. I would chat with her the whole time, explaining the dish I was cooking, the ingredients, what utensils I was using. She was good company, an attentive listener who only occasionally talked back. Soon enough I had a crawler, then a walker, and now, this little munchkin, my lil’ chef. As soon as she went from excersaucer to crawling on the floor, cooking became a more challenging affair. And now, well, sometimes I think cooking with a two-year old should be reality television. When I enter the kitchen and put on my apron, she knows it’s time. “What you doing, Mommy?” “I’m going to cook dinner now, Ava.” “Oh….. Ava help too?” And so it begins. She drags the kitchen chair across the floor, climbs up, and she’s…..ready! I let her “help” in a safe, age appropriate way as much as possible. If I’m grating carrots, I’ll give her a grater and carrot of her own and let her give it a try. When I’m chopping vegetables, or using a knife, I’ll give her some plastic cups to rinse out to keep her out of harm’s way. Once I get everything in the pot I’ll put it on the stove and let her stir the ingredients. I let her taste everything and encourage her to smell the spices and herbs. She loves the tasting part, especially if we’re baking. She also adores being the button pusher on the Cuisinart, as well as the coffee grinder.
It all sounds very serene, doesn’t it? I assure you, it’s not. Between the lines of what I just wrote is total chaos- fingers in the bowl, water everywhere, at least two time outs for not listening, a toppled chair or two, and a very messy kitchen. But it’s worth it to me- every little spill, every spoon dropped down the disposal, every knocked-over measuring cup. My little girl is learning about food, how to prepare it, eat it, and appreciate it, and I’m the one that’s teaching her. The result is a kid with an amazing palate, an early joy of cooking, and a building vocabulary. A few days ago, I put an onion on the cutting board and took a knife from the drawer. Ava looked up from the kitchen table where she was coloring. “You gonna mince that onion, Mommy?” I laughed out loud and said, “Yes, I am. Come and watch.” She dragged her chair across the floor, climbed up, and took her place next to me. I’ve never been so proud.