Making Pasta With A 3 Year Old

So this one time I decided to make a pasta with a 3 year old..

That would be today. A rainy day activity, 
fun for my daughter and I, trying to instill my love for the culinary arts. 

All was going well. A task that could have taken me 15 minutes, took an hour. But so it goes when doing things with a toddler. She was in the way, my other daughter safely tucked inside of me seemed to be in the way, but despite the bumping into things- and each other-we were making pasta that was sure to mak any Noni proud. And I felt like an all-star mom.

Look at me, I thought confidently to myself, I can make pasta with an active 3 year old! Look how much fun she's having, and feeling so proud of her work! 

The kitchen was starting to feel hot, my belly feeling rather large, and the dough constantly being fondled and wrinkled. I could feel my temperature rising (both figuratively and literally). 

This was starting to take way too long. It will be ready in time for breakfast!

I turned then to put the first bit of pasta on the dish towel to dry. When I turned around I saw a ball of dough. The dough thy had just taken an hour for us to flatten out was in a ball. 

My super mom badge that I had so proudly pinned to my own chest just minutes before fluttered to the ground. I lost my temper. I snapped, Claire! No, Mommy told you not to touch the dough! Please get down from the chair. Now I have to do it all over again. 

Not a proud moment. 

Quickly I tried to flatten the dough again. Trying to get dinner on the table as quickly as possible to feed the hungry bellies. 

I saws her sweet little face fall. It ate me alive. Daddy took her to help with a chore in another room. When she came back I apologized for getting angry, I told her I was frustrated but thy is never a reason to speak to her the way I did. 

My sweet Claire, so quick to shrug it off. 

That's okay Mom, brushing the hair away from her face, wearing a Cinderrella dress and Princess Jasmin slippers. Not another word about it. She did huff and puff, let it hang over her for another hour, she just moved on.

The same girl who throws unreasonable tantrums in embarrassing places. Who throws things in anger and speaks to me unkindly when she's angry. The same mother who tries to stay calm, keep her heart rate low and teach her child was is acceptable behaviour when we're sad, frustrated or angry.

Now if only I can learn from her and shrug it off just as quickly. 

But for now I'll leave the pasta making lessons for a couple more years. And maybe not during the summer while 8 months pregnant.

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