Of babysitters, cooking, and launching successful kids

We hired our first sitter since... a long time, now. Other than grandparents (who helped extensively before and after Helen's birth), our last sitter was months ago. Several times during the fall, we had a neighbor teen come over to cover the 60-90 minute gap between Jeremy's evening class and my evening meetings. He just showed up after dinner, got the kids put to bed, and left. Other than that, I can't even recall the last time we hired a sitter.
But in the last few weeks, the kids have actually been asking for a sitter. (Hmm, why does that make me so nervous?) Then Jeremy got word that an old classmate of his would be in town and wanted to go to dinner. It seemed like a good opportunity for a "date" (if you can call it that when we took along Helen and met 3 other people for dinner).

So Friday night was the first time using a hired sitter in a long time. And I guess I am out of practice. Maggie had specifically requested "a girl." Our two most recent sitters have been male, so this seemed fair. We contacted a 16-year-old girl from church. She had never babysat for us but I knew she did a fair amount of it.

My usual routine if we leave the kids at dinnertime is chicken nuggets or mac-n-cheese. But we are on a new healthy eating routine (including dairy-free) so I hated to blow that. Thus, I managed to get spaghetti sauce in the crock pot and ready for our departure time. I had the table set and the noodles cooked when Lisa arrived. As an afterthought, I pulled out a brownie mix. After all, healthy eating is one thing but life without an occasional dessert is bleak. I set out the bowl, oil, measuring cup, pan, and nonstick spray. It seemed pretty straightforward. I suggested to Lisa that the kids would enjoy helping her make these after dinner and they could all have a bedtime snack.

We were gone nearly four hours, and the kids were asleep when we returned. The kitchen was reasonably cleaned up and the house had a yummy chocolate aroma. Lisa, though, looked a bit sheepish. She immediately confessed to us that "the brownies didn't look right when I took them out so I gave each of the kids a corner that looked cooked enough and threw the rest in the trash." Okay.  Not that big a deal to lose a brownie mix. (Well, except that I had been thinking about eating one myself, having skipped all the dairy-containing desserts at the restaurant under some personal strain.)

So, I wasn't really upset, but I was perplexed. I mean, really. How can you screw up a a box-mix brownie? I pried a few details out of James the next day. It sounded like there were multiple errors - no preheating of the oven, so they didn't get done in the time listed on the box. James said they kept putting them back in the oven for a few more minutes and eventually gave up. (I can understand this one - it would be hard to tell if brownies are done by just looking if you have screwed up the cook time by skipping the preheat.) He said there was also a serious "stick to the pan" problem - apparently Lisa overlooked the baking spray I had left out. Still, James seemed a bit irked that Lisa had thrown the bulk of the batch out. "I would have eaten it. It was still good!") Here, I have to give her some sitter credit - while I probably would have let the kids eat it even if only partially cooked, it is wise not to feed potentially raw eggs to someone else's kids.

I thought it over, and decided this isn't as unbelievable as it at first seemed to me. After all, Lisa is only 16. I really wasn't cooking anything substantial at that age. I could follow a recipe, mind you, and she had one. But she was in a strange kitchen with unfamiliar oven controls, etc. I guess it could happen. Still, it gave me new resolve to stretch my own kids more. Sure, I can cook or bake faster on my own. But before any one of them turns 16, I would expect them to competently bake brownies from scratch, let alone from a box. (Brownies, after all, top the list of essential food survival items.) And I don't suppose they will get there spontaneously.

So, parenting resolution of the week - let (make?) kids cook more on their own, even when it makes me crazy. (And, hide my craziness so that they can learn to enjoy it rather than associate it with the screaming mother.)

P.S. We already have a plan underway to make them a cookbook "to go." As Jeremy or I make anything that we particularly like or that becomes a family favorite, we take a photo. Eventually, we plan to get a family cookbook printed (recipes and photos) to send with each kid as they move out on their own. Now, I recognize that sending them with the book may not be enough. We will need to have them making these things while they are still under our roof. Fortunately, they all show some interest in this.

James, in particular, loves to fix food. He is always willing to make lunch for himself AND for anyone else who asks. His repertoire is limited but he loves to invent and if you are feeling adventurous, he will put together something new for you.