Baker, Baker

This entry is not about my favorite Tori Amos song. Though, that song, and how it came to become my favorite Tori song, would make an interesting blog post on it's own merit. Another day, another time.

Today, my heart burst with pride. My 7 year old had a go at her first home-made goodie, all by herself.

It all started when we woke up and it was 3 degrees out.

I have been told that these temperatures are the kind that usually only come around in late January. The kind that signal winter is in the deep throes, and you have about 6 weeks left before the birdies start chirping again, and you yell "SPRING IS HERE!"

We are still 2 weeks away from winter even starting.

But it's all good, because we have an oven. And you know what that means.

Baking.

We did venture out in the arctic weather today, attended a knitting class, and saw a school performance of the Nutcracker. 

But when we got home, and my nose was frozen, I decided that running to the store for milk was just going to have to wait. I certainly had enough in the house for the family to survive on, at least for one night.

I had a hunkering for something warm.

Katelyn and I decided it was time to bust into the bakers basket (this is a magical basket full of all my baking supplies. Vanilla, and dark chocolate pieces, and brown sugar, and marshmallows, and Lord only knows what else. All I know is that when I pull out that basket, aromas come wafting out, and I am instantly sent to a magical land of munchkins, and 10 feet tall lollipops, and rivers of chocolate. ) 

I opened the fridge and found we had 1 egg. Kind of crucial.

I gave Katelyn a cookie recipe book, and told her to find a recipe that only used 1 egg. It started as my lazy way out of looking for the recipe myself, but resulted in one of the best cookies I have ever had.

For reals.

Katelyn really wanted to run with the recipe, so, against my initial inclinations,(their will be flour and sugar everywhere) I let her.

Hence the proud mommy moment.

She found the recipe, pulled all the ingredients, found we only had chocolate bars, not chips, and broke them herself.

She followed the recipe and prepared the cookies, and aside from the mixing (she turned the mixer on high, and guess what happened? Flour everywhere) she made the cookies completely on her own.

And dang, if they weren't the best cookie I have ever tasted.

I don't know what she did, maybe it was the love?

I don't mind if either of my girls grow up hating the kitchen. I don't want them to do something, just because I love it, or because I think they will love it too. I want them to explore things on their own, and find things that they love to do. Watching the pride on Katelyn's face, as she served her family the cookies, made me so happy and warm inside. When you are little, you need triumphs and victories.

Today, my little baker baker was victorious!