The rest of the story

When I was a kid, there used to be a radio broadcast by a man named Paul Harvey that I think was called "The rest of the story." As I recall, it was a brief segment where Paul told the first half of a story, then went to commercial, then "the rest of the story" followed. Inevitably the second half of the story told of some circumstances that were not what you'd expect from the first half. I loved these stories for some reason. I loved Paul Harvey's voice. I especially loved how dramatically he delivered the line, "and now for (dramatic pause) the rest of the story." These were not kids stories, but the irony and the delivery caught my ear every time. As I thought about how to relay the info in this post, I considered two approaches. The first more brief, but not really telling the story how I'd like to remember it. The latter, well, telling the story. Then I remembered Paul Harvey and thought I'd do both. There's no irony here, so it's not really "the rest of the story" as he would have done, but I thought I'd take this chance to relay a bit of childhood nostalgia nonetheless....

Here's what I learned about baking with LO today:

1) When I choose to chop things in the floor so he can watch, I should plan to chop twice as many since at least half will end up with his drool, in his hands, or tossed on the floor.

2) When the recipe says "stir constantly" that step is not compatible with having a toddler in the kitchen.

3) I am not good enough at cracking eggs to do them one-handed into the Kitchenaid stand mixer while also holding LO. My baking will have "extra calcium" (egg shells) as a result.

4) It takes at least twice as long to do every step with LO in the kitchen.

5) I am not a good enough cook or a good enough mom to manage LO on a stool, while adding wet and dry ingredients alternately, and avoid catastrophe. Case in point, the butter knife that flew out of the mixing bowl and smacked me in the chest and LO in the cheek. If you have to ask why I turned on the mixer with a butter knife in the bowl, you don't have a toddler.

6) It is a really bad idea to start any project in the hour between morning snack and lunch/nap. LO is cranky then and nothing good will be accomplished.

7) Thank God DH came home earlier than expected and saved LO and me from ourselves!

8) The people that eat my cranberry upside down coffee cake tomorrow will have no idea what it took for me to be able to make it. Fortunately they will also have no idea how much of LO's drool, grubby hands, or extra egg shell is in it either. (Note to self, be more appreciative and more cautious when eating anything homemade by a toddler's mom.)

And here's the rest of the story.

I think cooks fall into two categories. Cooks and bakers. Before LO, I liked to think I was a cook. When holidays rolled around, I did some baking and really enjoyed sharing homemade treats with friends and coworkers. A little baking helped me get into the holiday mood. I have fond memories of cooking holiday goodies with my mom or Grannie. (Inevitably I wanted to cook more than I really had time for and mom and I ended up in the kitchen until 2 am trying to get everything done. Sorry mom.) It's been a little while since I've done any Christmas cooking and I wanted to take at least one thing to my office this year. I am also always trying to think of ways to introduce new things to LO. At the same time, I want him to help me in the kitchen one day, so I try to let him get in there as much as possible. Today I decided to try to get started on the treat I planned to take to the office before LO's nap.

I recalled it being pretty easy. It required chopped walnuts and dates. I have mentioned before that I wish I could have the learning tower for LO. It's big, heavy, and expensive, but we would definitely use it. DH and I looked at the measurements though and it would literally take up 90% of our kitchen. I would be blocked in with no room to get to the fridge or cabinets. It's a no go. I've been trying to figure out alternatives. For the chopping today, I decided to sit in the floor and use a chopper (the blades are enclosed, so safe for LO). He had enjoyed using the salad spinner before, so I thought he might like to work the pump on the chopper too. It turned out to be a little too hard for him, but he liked to watch it work. That was a no go with the dates though as they were too sticky for the chopper. I tried to just chop them on the counter, but after seeing the show with the walnuts, he was not about to miss the action with the dates. Instead I sat back in the floor with a pair of scissors and chopped some dates into the bowl. LO helped by handling the dates and threatening to eat them. He occasionally found that some were not fit for baking and threw them on the floor. After two chopping sessions, we had enough to measure into the measuring cup...we only lost about a quarter cup in the process. Next we zested an orange and I imagined that LO appreciated the lovely aroma and the fine texture of the zest. Being involved in those steps seemed to be enough for LO who busied himself with the bottles in the door of the fridge for a while. Since he was happy and busy, I decided to start the next step.

Melt 2 Tbsp butter. Check. Add 1/2 cup firmly packed brown sugar and 2 Tbsp freshly squeezed orange juice. Check. Stir constantly and cook for 3 minutes. Enter toddler melt down. So I held LO on one hip, stirred constantly with the other hand, and danced back away from the stove every 30 seconds when LO decided to dive toward the sweet, bubbly, sugar.

Hmm, this is where I started to realize there was no good stopping place in my recipe for a while and LO was past the point of tired, hungry, crankiness. To his screams of protest I set him in the floor so I could race to my room for the step ladder/stool. We tried measuring flour, sugar, and baking soda with LO standing on the stool. He seemed interested, but it was tough to make sure he was safe and get things measured accurately without things hitting the floor. When it came to using the stand mixer, he just wasn't tall enough to see inside. Somehow LO tripped over the step stool (he was playing on the floor at this point) while I was preparing the next step. I was in the middle of measuring and adding the vanilla bean paste when that happened, so I stopped the mixer and dropped the butter knife I was using the scrape out the bean paste. I picked LO up to comfort him and decided to try to distract him by showing him the mixer. When I turned the mixer back on, I forgot about the butter knife and it flipped up onto my chest then bounced on LO's cheek. More crying followed, mostly out of shock. After I cleaned the buttery sugar goo off us both, I attempted more distraction by holding LO on one hip and cracking an egg into the mixer with the other. I've never cracked an egg with one hand, so I think it was pretty good to only get a little shell lost in the mix. Hopefully no one will notice the crunch amongst the walnuts.

I finished the rest of the recipe with LO on one hip. In the meantime I realized we were going to be late for lunch and nap. Bad news. Fortunately DH got home earlier than expected and saved the morning. That's the rest of the story!