She Must Be a Saint...

I do believe that my mother is the bravest woman I know.

Why you might ask?

Because she cooks with my children.

I know some of you might be wondering what could possibly be so scary about cooking with two very active under the age of 4 children who love to stick their fingers into everything and steal tastes, licks and bites while pushing every button on any kitchen appliance possible?

Exactly.

It is a disaster waiting to happen and one that usually requires a hazmat team to clean up afterwards.

My mother, however, loves it. When she suggested making homemade soft pretzels with my kids I'll admit it, I cringed at first and was more than a little wary. I don't even know how to make pretzels by myself...how would I survive it with kids? I was skeptical, but willing, and my kids were over the moon excited about cooking with Grammy. She's cooked with both of them from a very young age, strapping them into their high chairs in her kitchen and arming them with wooden spoons and measuring cups while she chopped or sliced nearby. They have always loved to "cook cook cook" with their Grandma.

So, we set up in my kitchen with all of the pretzel ingredients and put the kids on chairs so they could reach the counter top. I took a deep breath and decided to just let go and enjoy the process, and honestly... it was a blast. My kids had their fingers in everything and it didn't matter. My daughter sampled the flour over and over while my son over exuberantly stirred the yeast mixture and all the while my mother didn't even skip a beat. Her gentle patience and quiet explanations instantly had me reminiscing about my own childhood when she would often bake bread with my brothers and I. We kneaded, we rolled...together we created pretzels fit for a king.

We also created a mess, but that is beside the point. All in all, it was an experience that I thoroughly enjoyed because it allowed me to spend quality time with my mother and my children. It was exciting to see the look in my daughter's eye as the dough performed its magic for her and to hear my son's sweet little voice ask for his fifth pretzel smothered in hot butter. So, tonight I am thankful that my mother helped me to see that a little mess can create the most amazing masterpieces.

I'm sure the hazmat team loves hot buttered pretzels as well.