Do you know what it is?
It’s chocolate-chip cookies, mid-mixing.
You see, the boys and I were making a batch of cookies. Which sounds like a lot of fun. Some of my own favorite memories from my childhood including making chocolate-chip cookies with my mom.
“But why,” you may ask, “isn’t there anyone actually making cookies in this photo?”
Well, my friend, because my cookie-helpers are currently taking a 5-minute quiet time in their rooms. Sometimes they get along so well. And sometimes they bicker like cats and dogs over Every. Little. Thing.
They fought over who got to break the eggs. They fought over who got to put in the scoop of flour first. They fought over which one of them got to add the baking soda and which one got to add the salt. They fought over who was standing on which stepstool and whether or not the other one was encroaching on “their” stepstool. They fought over how they were fighting.
Which is when I decided we all needed a breather. Usually, they only fight over who gets to lick the spatula at the end.
So I told them to take five minutes to themselves, and I might of said it a little sternly, which sent the two of them to their separate spaces, crying because they could no longer fight over making the cookies.
After five minutes, I spent time with each of them, individually, talking about how they were feeling and brainstorming what words and actions would make for a more pleasant cookie-making experience.
And then we resumed the cookies. But in that five minute window I snapped this photo. I love those two little boys with all my heart but it’s disingenuous to pretend that every bonding experience we share is storybook-perfect. There are fights and tears, sometimes over the silliest things.
But we work through it, and in the end, finally get to eat some cookies.
