Kierran has taken to “helping” lately. Dishes, cooking, folding laundry…. Helping is the word he uses. “Help, help. Me help” It’s a phrase that makes me cringe. It means my :15 chore turns into an hour long chore with numerous attempts to complete the task while struggling with a temperamental toddler.
Yesterday I was cooking Jamie Oliver’s chicken in milk recipe. I’ve been eying this recipe for a month or so now. As soon as I step in the kitchen and grab my apron Kierran’s internal alarm goes off from anywhere in the house. “Help, help. Me help!” UGH! No, I don’t want you help. Matter in fact, if you would like to be of help go find your brothers. “No!” He grabs his apron and asks me to help. He’s so cute. I’m sucked in.
I start cooking and so does he. He says “Moo peas” (move please) and grabs a small pot from under the stove. “Wa-ah?” No, you’re not getting water. I turn my back and he’s rummaging through the snack drawer filling his pot with veggie straws. While he’s “cooking” I’m cooking. He peppers his straws and adds some worcestershire sauce. Then he disappears. I’m smiling because I think he’s gotten distracted and plans to go play. YES! False, he grabbed his stool completely focused on his task. I hate that stool. It’s gets him in serious trouble but it also lends a helping hand when he needs to use the bathroom. That’s why we still have it. He places the stool on the floor next to me by the stove. NOPE, hot Kiekie and I move his pot of faux chex mix off the burner. Straight from Gordon Ramsey’s playbook he rips his apron off and throws it on the ground. “Are you quitting? Are you a quitter?”, “No!”, “Then put your apron back on and behave!” I help him with his apron and he gets back at it. I distract him with washing the cauliflower in the sink but that only lasted 5 minutes.
He snuck his pot back on the burner. In the corner of my eye I watch him eye me, the pot and back at me. Don’t let that smile fool you. He’s acting like a devil. It’s all for the camera. I took the pot off again and said “I said NO! It’s hot.” (Yes, after I took the photo. I know, I know) He throws his apron off again. It’s like a threat but I see that as a wish come true.
True to Gordon Ramsey’s character he steps down and throws his stool. Now, my Aunt is probably thinking “Oh Lissa, Lissa, Lissa.” but here’s the deal. I come down just as hard on him as I did my other two but he is the third child. I have to laugh some of this stuff off to survive. But hold on to your judgement for now. It gets worse.
The apron and stool weren’t enough. His occupy movement for social equality was exemplified by removing his pajama top with force. Ohhh, I’m now reconsidering my stance. I should let him cook his food on the hot stove. Why am I such a mean mom?
Once removed, he laughed and left for me to deal with his aftermath. Bipolar child. So I tossed his stool, pajamas and apron into the living room and finished cooking. Dinner turned out good and as a bonus I mashed the cauliflower into some potatoes and no one knew! HAHAHAHAHA, I WIN!
PS: Kierran’s dinner wasn’t well liked. He gave some of straws to Barrett to try. He thought they were gross and told Kierran to try some. Kierran said NO! His favorite word but it made us laugh. It’s like he knew they were gross but wanted to see someone eat it.