A while back I asked for post ideas. Barbara suggested that I do a post about how to juggle a Toddler and a hot pan of food at the same time. I thought about it, but didn’t really have anything spectacular because we had a gate across the kitchen.
Then, disaster struck. Nathan tripped over the gate while carrying a box full of firewood. One (1) bruised head and big mess later, our gate was broken (into very very small pieces I might add).
Now, until we get a newer, shinier, BETTER AND UNBREAKABLE gate, I am forced to share the kitchen with Amy. So I will walk you through a day, from breakfast to dinner, of sharing the kitchen with a toddler, sharp knives, hot kettles, cups of tea and everything in the cupboards.
HOW TO SHARE YOUR KITCHEN AND NOT DIE.
-BREAKFAST-
1) Rescue toddler from her PRISON, and fix her OMG MUMMY I AM IMPRISONED cries. Snuggle the toddler in your own bed for a few minutes. Try to doze off. Release toddler as she requests ‘Mum-eeeee, Ima wanna go dooooown noooooow’.
2) Listen to the toddler noises in the lounge room as you try very hard not to doze back off. Figure that as long as there is noise you are probably safe to stay in bed. Freak out as soon as you hear silence and head to investigate.
3) Discover the toddler SITTING on the bench eating the butter with her hands. Clean up the mess, clean up the toddler and set her free.
4) Get the toaster out of the cupboard as the toddler hangs off your legs. Try and hunt down the bread, only to discover that the toddler had played with the bread before moving on to the butter. Try and rescue a few slices of bread in order to toast.
5) Burn your fingers as you remove toast from the toaster. Try to remove toddler from your legs as you butter the toast. Fail miserably and walk around the kitchen sporting the NEWEST IN KITCHEN ACCESSORIES! A TODDLER!
6) Successfully butter and cheese the toast. Cut, and place on highchair table. Chase toddler around the lounge room and finally manage to capture her. Place in front of toast and take a breather.
-LUNCH-
Lunch is never really a big deal here as Amy tend to nap about midday. I try and give her a sandwich before she naps and then a piece of fruit or a sandwich or whatever when she wakes up.
However, cup of tea time (which is whenever I feel like it) is a big more complex than it sounds.
-CUP OF TEA TIME-
1) Remove toddler from the kitchen BEFORE you start. Fill the kettle with cold water and turn on.
2) Remove toddler from the kitchen. Grab yourself a mug and a teabag. Ummmm, discover that the toddler has nicked all the teabags and they are now strategically placed around the house. Find spare teabags in the cupboard that AREN’T covered in toddler and dog drool.
3) Place sugar and teabag into your mug. Remove toddler from kitchen, cursing more than you should, as she tries to pull a glass of (cold) water onto her head (she can’t actually reach the kettle thank goodness).
4) Reboil the kettle as everything above has taken 30 minutes and the water has cooled.
5) Finally get the mug, teabag, sugar and hot water in the same place as the same time. Fill the mug with hot water and FREAK OUT as the toddler tips the sugar bowl all over her face, shoulders, floor, couch and bench. Set the hot mug aside where the toddler can’t reach it (the stove top is a good place) and find the vacuum cleaner.
6) Discover that the vacuum cleaner is full. Leave the toddler inside while you run outside and empty the vacuum. Come back inside to discover the toddler sitting on the bench, tearing up teabags and sprinkling the contents everywhere.
7) Thank God that you have the vacuum cleaner handy. Vacuum everything while you have the chance.
8.) Remember your cup of tea brewing. Check and discover that it is stone cold. Wonder briefly just how much time has elapsed.
9) Repeat above steps until you finally get to add milk to an at least warm cup of tea. Proceed to have to share the entire cup with the toddler.
-DINNER-
1) Prep vegetables. Try not to slice toddler fingers off as she tries to pinch vegies while you are still trying to cut them. Swear more than you should.
2) Prep meat (tonight we had steak, so I am working on the premise that we are all cooking steak). Use your very-sharpest-possible-commercial-kitchen-quality knife. (Yes, it is really a commercial kitchen quality knife, it is my baby. I adore my 2 good knives) Freak out as the toddler tries to eat the raw fat that you just gave the cats.
3) Heat the grill and place meat under the grill. Remove toddler from the kitchen. Place prepped veg into various pots and pans with water/butter/whatever.
(PLOP CRASH WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA BARK BARK BARK AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGHHHHHH!)
4) Pick up (screaming like her life is OVER) toddler and try to comfort her, while simultaneously sauteing a pan of bok choy in butter. Turn and baste steak, while still holding sobbing toddler. Check the cookedness (that is now a word) of the carrots while still holding a screaming sobbing boob grabbing toddler.
5) Wonder how the holy hell I do this every night.
6) Put toddler down (in her highchair is preferable) and race back to your pans on vegies. Quickly baste steak to prevent burning and turn around to encounter….a whining, hungry, clinging, unhappy toddler who wants to be picked up.
7) Place toddler back on floor and do your best to drain carrots, finish sauteing, and make sure the steak is cooked. Dodge toddler while moving around the kitchen with boiling water and carrots and THINGS.
8.) Dump a few cooked carrots onto the highchair table, thus buying your self a few (only a few, mind) moments to dish up dinner. Cut toddlers food up into itty bitty bits and place on her special toddler plate, on her special toddler highchair table.
9) Sit down to eat, just as the toddler slithers out of her highchair, having eaten nothing. Try and eat as the toddler stands in front of you with her mouth WIDE open, practising being a baby bird. Alternately feed yourself and toddler your plate of dinner.
DONE!
Now, does this scenario sound familiar to anyone else? Hehe.
What I didn’t add in was all the cuteness. The ‘Mum-eeee I dink peeeeas!’ and ‘Peaaas, neeeeed food’ and ‘Tiss! Tiss!’ as she leaned up for a kiss. Very cute.
And hey, soon enough I can make her help me prep dinner!
I didn’t and probably never will, consider myself ‘an infertile’, simply because I feel like a bit of a fraud when I read blogs about infertility.