Paying it forward

Chilly, windy, rainy days always make me want to make soup.  I thought today might be one of my last opportunities until fall, so I got out the soup pot. The kids also like making soup, and they wanted to help. Sometimes they actually do help (Sarah makes the trip to the basement to get onions and potatoes; Noah peels the potatoes like a professional; Sarah washes the vegetables), but overall, their "help" takes twice as long and makes at least twice the mess as just doing it myself.  Also, a jail cell is twice the width of my kitchen, so adding kids and their stepstools in the kitchen leaves zero room for me to maneuver.  But I want them to know how to cook, and some good math and science lessons always happen in the kitchen, so I just start early, muster up all the patience I can, and keep a sink full of soapy water.

Sarah wanted to chop the carrots, and of course she wanted to use my favorite knife, so I used the inferior knife to chop the onions while she did the carrots.  I explained to her that all the carrot pieces needed to be roughly the same size, or else the little ones would turn to mush while the big ones were still hard.  She said, "OK, Mom" and proceeded to cut some chunks that were two inches long and some tiny little shavings.  It took me way longer to even them out than it would have if I had just chopped them myself from the beginning.

Noah wanted to chop the potatoes with my best knife, so I gave it to him while I used the inferior one to chop celery.  I gave him the same lesson about chopping equal, bite-sized chunks.  He is older, has had more practice, and is a much better listener, so I didn't even supervise him as he chopped all the potatoes and dumped them into the pot with all the other vegetables.

Sarah wanted something to do, so just to keep her busy, I told her to add some water to the pot and stir it.  I looked in the pot and saw huge chunks of potatoes swirling around with pea-sized potatoes.  I spent a long time fishing out the big chunks and paring them down to a manageable size.  I took a step and felt vegetables crunch under my feet.  I looked down and saw that there was more food on the floor than in the pot.

Despite my patience-mustering, I was annoyed by all the extra time, effort, and mess.  I thought, "I've been training these people for so many years, and I'm not seeing a lot of progress.  By the time they're more of a help than a hindrance, they'll be ready to leave and start their own families."  That's when it occurred to me that raising children is all about paying it forward.  You teach and train, plant and sow, all for someone else to eventually reap the harvest.  Then I realized that I'm reaping the benefits of my in-laws' training, because they raised my husband to be a fine man.