My Helper

It feels like a milestone. Choosing to be a kitchen helper. I have memories of each of my kids helping in the kitchen, each in their own way. Elias liked to chop when he was little. He would focus intently on the cutting, then put the small pieces one by one into the bowl, quietly and patiently concentrating on his dwindling pile. Ben he loved to stir. Mix. Beat. Anything that required a fast motion. If I put all the chopped ingredients in a bowl, and gave them to him to stir (whether they needed it or not!) he could mix for a long long time. Aria loved dishes. She loved putting on an apron and kerchief, setting it all up, putting in the bubbles and water, the process being equally concentrated on. The time in the kitchen together doing our 'jobs' side by side, at which could often be a crazy time of the day, the 'witching hour'. We would chat, sing, work in silence enjoying the company.
We still share the kitchen, sometimes following their lead, or my presence not being needed at all. But I fondly remember the times they showed interest as toddlers wanting to 'work' side by side. Shai joined me the other day, flooding back all the memories of the others. He sat at the table working on green pepper and 'pocket' (aka garlic!) joining me in rounds of wheels on the bus. Being in the moment, enjoying the togetherness, cherishing the extra 30 minutes dinner will take to get ready, loving the connection, determined to try and remember, especially on those days it feels like a chore.

Maybe the milestone is mine, to remember the beauty of moving more slowly and being in the moment.