In my ongoing quest to tick the good mum box, the one thing that that allows me to award myself a big fat gold star more than anything else is cooking for the small things.
Standing in front of the stove, spatula in hand whilst the small things sit at the kitchen table, music on (pop party mix 999 is the current favourite) and random conversations a plenty.
The good mum quest is often one that evades me and can also be made achingly hard to achieve (in my head) as a single mum.
But I have found the solution, I know what ticks the box.
I have the key. I have the secret. And because I am a good, kind, loving person (and sometimes great mum) I am going to gift that secret to you. So you too can wallow in the success of Spatula Power ©.
It’s those small moments that count in the good parenting manual, the ones you don’t even think about. It’s those moments that your small things will remember and will take those parenting traditions to their kids.
It’s the odd giggle, the impromptu pillow fight on a weekend morning and for the ultimate accolade, that feel good, good mum feeling, I give to you the cooking kids equation.
Cooking + Kids = Good Mum TICKS Good Mum Box.
Realisation dawned on this cold wet bank holiday morning as the small things had begun their ‘I want pancakes’ chant and I started whisking up the mixture.
I think it must go back to the dawn of time when I was little and many conversations with my mum happened in the kitchen, while she was cooking. I look back on these times with nostalgia and the knowledge that all the best cheesecakes come out of a packet.
Today, the only difference is that I, of course, tend to be cooking with a hearty glass of wine next to me. Not at breakfast time, obviously.
Sunday lunch is the same, it’s probably the only staple on my parenting agenda. It’s guaranteed to get us all sitting round the kitchen table discussing the meaning of life. Okay I admit, actually we are usually found sitting round the kitchen table debating whether Jessie J is better than Lady Ga Ga (I always go for Jessie).
There is nothing boho about my Sundays, but I also know there is nothing more fulfilling than my house filled with the smells of a Sunday roast, the small things mooching and with increasing insistence asking when lunch will be ready.
So this weekend I have awarded myself the ‘Spatula of Success’.
Go forth my friends, find your inner spatula.