Cooking with Toddlers

Don't worry, I'm not threatening to put my 17 month old in the soup pot, although sometimes I may feel like doing just that!  No, I'm talking about making a dinner with a little one under foot and no one, except maybe the TV, to run interference.

If you're not a parent, or not a parent who really cooks, then this may be hard for you to understand. 

So, there I am doing my very best to prepare dinner for our family.  My husband gets out of the shower at a certain time and only has an hour to eat, digest and get out the door.  So, I'm on a clock, it feels a lot like being on a cooking show, the only difference being that I can start anytime I like.  This particular night I'm making one of my husbands favorites, Chicken Parmesan.  Easy?  Think again.  I make it from scratch.

I get my toddler in front of the TV (I know, how dare I?) to watch some Moose A Moose and start my mise en place.  I get my sauce started and water boiling, here comes the chicken.  Everything is going well so far.  I set my bowls up to bread my chicken, cut open the packaging and...  Up Up Up!  I look down, my hands covered in chicken goo to see my little brown eyed girl staring at me from between myself and the cabinets.  She lifts her hands again and commands "Up".  I first look at the goo on my hands (Yay for salmonella) and the clock to see where my time is.  I regretfully inform those cute brown eyes that mommy can't pick her up right now, I'm covered in grossness.  Usually she pouts or cries a little at this point.

I work hard and fast to get my chicken breaded, there is a toddler between my legs.  Literally.  She thinks my legs are a fun bridge that she can climb through over and over again.  As I put the chicken on the stove and get my pasta in the water she decides to start head butting my private area.  Are you trying to crawl back up in?  Trust me, you're far too big.

As I finish the meal up I notice everything is too quiet.  This is never a good thing in my house.  I start looking around for the little runt, I mean love of my life, and find her standing on the ottoman in the living room dancing to Yo Gabba Gabba. 

Of course this is when my husband chooses to enter the room and my little darling is so excited she falls right off of her perch.  My husband shoots me a look and scolds our precious for being where she shouldn't.  My scolding was given via eye contact, ouch.

Dinner is saved.  Well, I burned the chicken a little because of the falling toddler and my noodles got a little over soft.  But it's still good.  I hope.