Practice Makes Perfect

photo: Jonathan's "world famous" pancakes

I tape things to the insides of my cupboards sometimes. Phone #s, of course, and grain cooking instructions and the occasional recipe, but also inspirational tidbits that I need front and center to remind me to get back to center when I'm being a cad. Which used to be frightfully often, but is now growing rarer, thanks to mindful work and surrounding myself with all the right people.

Most of the tidbits are gone, or have been replaced gradually with workout schedules or phone trees or ingredient lists, but one faded bit of wisdom remains. I guess because every time I look at it, which isn't so often anymore, it is just too spot-on to take down.

It was posted by a mom on the Continuum-Concept parenting e-list, which I unsubbed from many moons ago (not because I didn't benefit from it, or subscribe to the philosophy, but simply because my path moved me along to a greater focus on unschooling).

It read:

I was baking cookies with my daughter Kelsey the other day. We were busy putting our dough on cookie sheets, when Kelsey announced that it is "really hard to bake cookies with your mom!"

I responded, "Oh, why?"

"Because they always want to help and it's much better to practice."

It is much better to practice. Jonathan reminded me of this today, as he was making frozen pizza. He popped it in the oven and paced the floor waiting for it to cook, crazy with hunger. When the timer went off, I got up, grabbed pot-holders, and prepared to take the hot pizza out of the oven. Jonathan said, "I'll do it - I'll do it - I'LL DO IT." I started giving him reasons why I ought to do it, one being that he was in his underwear and had bare legs hanging out all over the place, ripe conditions for a leg burn. But he countered with this:

"How am I ever going to be a chef if you never let me take out my own pizza?"

Good point. That made me laugh and relinquish the pot-holders, with one last admonishment to watch his bare legs. As he struggled a bit to get the drippy pizza out, he carried on...

"I'll be in my restaurant kitchen and I'll say I can't get the pizza out because my mom never let me practice!"

Ok, I gotcha.

"All the other chefs will laugh at me!"

Um, I said I get your point.

"See mom? I can do it!"

Just slice it up and dish it out, wouldja? I'm sorry!

"Can you do it? I don't like cutting the pizza."