Lemon Blueberry Bread

I have two very eager helpers in my kitchen. They are both short, clumsy, and a little too inexperienced to function as good sous-chefs, but I'm trying to be a good mom and let them help anyway. Our kitchen, while no longer microscopic, is still a little short on counter space, so it takes a little extra patience to let them haul in chairs and crowd me out of my own space. But it's a good cause, right? I want my kids to help one day, and I want to involve them in the cooking process. But sometimes it just seems like more work than it's worth...

Like on the day I decided to make lemon blueberry bread. I don't make it that often, but Mom made tons of it for my wedding, so it has a lot of good memories attached to it. Plus, it's really yummy. In a moment of brilliance, I figured we 3 could whip up a double batch of blueberry bread before I got dinner on the table. I know all you moms of preschoolers are laughing about now. But everything was going pretty well, until I started squeezing the lemons. After laboriously juicing the too-small lemons I had, I finally had enough. That's when Claire leaned over to grab something Isaac had, Isaac batted her hand away, and ... CRASH! Down went my lemon juice on the floor, into a million pieces went my measuring cup.

But I"m working on being patient, right? And kids are kids, right? So I heroically sweep up the glass, get out the mop, clean the floor, and head to the fridge for another bunch of lemons. Isaac, convinced now that the purchase of a new measuring cup is going to put us in the poorhouse, is too intimidated to cook any longer. But Claire forges on. She is motivated by the reward of licking the beater at the end.

After juicing another batch of lemons, I remind Claire once again, "DON'T TOUCH THE LEMON JUICE." And she tries, really she does. But she lost her balance on the chair, steadied herself on the counter--and wouldn't you know it--the measuring cup. Down goes the juice. Did I mention that I had just mopped the floor earlier that day?

ARGH! But I mop the floor again, look at the clock, which reads, youreallyshouldbeinthemiddleofmakingdinnerrightnow, and get out another 120,00 lemons. This time I don't let go of the measuring cup for even a second, and the juice miraculously makes it's way into the bread. Victory! Except that Claire leans forward, pushes the chair a bit on the slick floor, and faceplants on the tile.

Those are the days where I just have to laugh, because the day is getting too ridiculous to do anything else. And I make sure, when Vance bites into the bread he loves, that he knows how much it cost :).