I don’t bake.
I grew up with a matriarch that used a coal stove to make baked goods and I remember the admin. Chopping the wood, getting the coal, black hands, and the smoke before the fire. Don’t get me started on the aftermath and the cleaning.
So, my trauma has not allowed me to even consider baking, even with a nice oven I have. Yes, I am totally making an excuse. I was more than comfortable with not having to bake ever in my life.
Until my almost-three-year-old daughter woke up demanding cupcakes. Thanks, YouTube.
I tried ignoring her for a couple of minutes, distracted her with her other favourite snacks, but she was just not budging. Her dad suggested that I buy them, and that felt like a declaration of my inability to bake. And as you know, no mother wants to admit that they can’t do anything. I am a superwoman.
I bought the ingredients and we baked up a storm. And yes, I bought the muffin mix because I don’t trust myself enough to measure the right quantity of yeast and sugar. These easy mix flours were made for people like me.
Now, I had no excuse but to bake. It was no longer up to me to decide that the coal stove put me off baking. I had the time and I had the capacity. And after that, I had an excited little human that got to experience and amazing moment with her mother.
I loved seeing the light in her eyes as she helped me make the dough, her little closed eyes as she helped me ‘taste’ the mix and the excitement on her face when she saw the final product.
For kids, the little moments make the world’s difference.
But this was a big moment for me. A big first with my ever-growing little human.
I cannot wait to share other exciting moments, even the ones I swore myself I would never do. We really are trying to make the best of this time together.