Ready, set, mix!

Words Kalina knows: Mixer, apron, flour. Words Kalina doesn't know: cookie, candy, chocolate. And yes, I'm very proud of that.

Kalina's been baking with me for, well, her whole life. Mostly because she's always preferred riding on my hip to pretty much anything else, so whenever I bake, she does too (this applies to far too many other activities, as well).

She's improved in her degree of helpfulness until yesterday morning (more about that later). It started many months ago with her dumping teaspoons and cups of ingredients into a bowl (often missing). More recently, she can cut out biscuits and put them on the baking sheet in an orderly fashion. She also knows that the oven is hot, and that she doesn't like hot things. I've been happy with her progress.

Having baked a cake with Kalina last week that she still talks about with pride in her eyes, I decided we could use another fun bonding activity (because she's not already attached enough, hah) and besides, I wanted brownies. And so first thing yesterday morning I told Kalina that as soon as the dishes were clean, we'd do some baking.

Kalina jumped into action and eagerly helped me start the dishwasher, proclaiming "mixer!" as soon as it began humming. Caught off guard at her urgency (getting her to do anything nowadays is like herding cats), I quickly cleared the counter and outfitted us with aprons. More for fun than anything else, and because whenever Kalina wears hers she demands I do the same.

I pulled over a kitchen chair to bring Kalina up to counter level and we got started: Kalina mostly talked about the mixer and played with anything that spilled and I ran all over the kitchen to try to keep the project moving efficiently and effectively. She helped me pour cups of sugar and flour and teaspoons of baking powder and salt.

Once the ingredients became batter, and therefore yummy, Kalina crossed a new milestone. She discovered, as we all do eventually, that messy beaters are a treasure trove of deliciousness, and all it takes is a finger to sample it*. This is when she became less than helpful: she determined that she'd rather sneak finger-fulls of batter into her mouth than let Mommy know she turned on the wrong burner and a plastic lid was melting on the stove. I probably could've left her to this task all morning, but my better sense kicked in and besides, I wanted brownies.

Finally, all the ingredients were mixed to Kalina's satisfaction, and I was able to pour the batter into the pan without Kalina grabbing any large handfuls (she tried: "Mom, why didn't you tell me that extracting the batter directly from the bowl would be so much more expedient than wasting my time with tiny little portions from the beaters?.").

I slipped the pan into the oven, and we snapped two pictures--Kalina was in the mood to pose. I left most of the mess for the bathtub later, and cleaned up the kitchen while the toddler contentedly worked off her sugar high.

I was, by the way, unsuccessful in convincing Kalina that the brownie batter (or later, the frosting) wasn't poop, and I was a little disturbed by the fact that she wanted to eat it anyway. I was, however, successful in not letting Kalina have any of the finished product. Cruel, yes, but she showed no interest whatsoever, she'd had enough sugar for the day and I know from experience that when we open that Pandora's Box there's no closing it, ever. I just don't want to have to remind her every day that it's not an appropriate breakfast food. Yet.

I was proud to see at the end that Kalina's apron now has a brownie batter mark on it. My apron has character too, and I hope this is the beginning of a lot of great baking experiences. With my sweet tooth and Kalina's love of mixing, there's no doubt.

*Note: Brownie batter contains raw eggs. You should never let your child consume raw eggs.