Perfect memories, not perfection

I had planned to share an easy dessert recipe, but that didn’t quite happen. Instead, I learned a lesson and decided I would share that instead.

Yesterday, I ran some errands and stopped in at my son’s house instead of driving on home. He lives at the top of the hill, and I live at the bottom. I knew that my grandchildren were there, so I wanted to stop in and see them.

Kole, the strong-willed one, was in trouble, and his sister, Rose, was in her room. She came out wearing her “Little Chef” apron, and I asked her what she was doing. She said she was “Cooking p’tend food.”

As I went to leave, she begged to come to my house with me, especially after I had remarked that I was going to be making some peanut butter cookies. She really wanted to help me cook.

I brought her home, and after finishing up some other things around the house, I decided to get into the kitchen to start cooking the peanut butter cookies. The recipe is super simple, and I could bake these things in my sleep. In fact, they are so simple, even my 4 year old granddaughter could make them.

And she did.

Everything was fine. I taught her how to use the cookie scoop, and where to place the cookies on the sheet pan. The last thing to do was to press out the cookie with a fork to flatten out the cookies for even baking and put the cross-hatch design on them. Immediately she begged to do it.

To begin with, I put my hand on hers to show her how to rotate the fork, and how hard to press. Then, she began to protest wanting to “do it by myself.” I reluctantly gave in.

It was so hard to allow her to make mistakes knowing that I wanted perfect cookies for my pictures. Her uncle came in as we were about to put them into the oven, and he remarked that some of those cookies weren’t going to be so yummy.

I cringed.

Despite me telling her that the purpose was to make them all the same shape, size, and thickness, she really didn’t understand all of that. She’s four. She’s learning. It was her first time.

When the cookies had finished, I looked down at the pan and took a picture. She was so very proud of her cookies.

As we made those cookies, I had to keep reminding myself that this wasn’t about my perfectionism. It was not about pretty. It was about us creating a perfect memory. One day, she’s going to look back on this moment and remember baking cookies with her Mimi. She’s not going to remember the burnt cookies, or how some ran together on the pan. Nope. She’s going to remember being in the kitchen with me.

I’ve had people who talked about not having the patience to cook with children. Sure, it’s easy to take over from them when they aren’t doing it right. It’s easy to send them out of the kitchen because you’re frustrated. But cooking together is a bonding experience. It’s a chance to share memories, make memories, and learn a skill. It won’t be perfect the first time. It may not be perfect the 2nd, 3rd, or 4th times. Eventually, though, it will be perfect. We, as adults, just need to get out of our own way and let the learning happen.