Last weekend, I found myself in a whirlwind of chores—mowing the lawn, showering, vacuuming, and prepping food for a gathering. In the midst of this, my 9-year-old son, Lucas, asked me to whip up a grilled cheese sandwich for his lunch. “Can’t you take a crack at it, buddy?” I replied. “But Mom,” he insisted, “I really want you to make it.”
Of course, I understand the appeal of having someone make a sandwich for you. But Lucas needs to learn. A few years back, I realized that my two older kids, then 9 and 7, didn’t even know how to butter toast. Seriously? I’m the type of parent who encourages independence—homework, chores, you name it. They’re capable kids, but somehow, they struggled with a task as simple as spreading butter, something I’m sure a monkey could master.
The crux of the matter is the desire to do things. For instance, take the grilled cheese situation. “Why don’t you start, and I’ll guide you if needed?” As I continued tidying up, he lamented, “But I don’t know how.” I had a feeling he did, but I took a deep breath. “What do you think the first step is?” The next ten minutes were a rollercoaster. A bright child, familiar with countless grilled cheese preparations, claimed he couldn’t fathom where to begin. As far as he was concerned, the process didn’t even necessarily involve retrieving bread and cheese from the fridge.
Let’s be honest—I’m not overflowing with patience, and this was becoming frustrating. Teaching children to cook can be rewarding once they grasp the skills, but the process can be a test of endurance. It’s one thing when they’re little, “helping” you in the kitchen by dumping sprinkles all over cookies. It’s a different story when they reach the tween years and suddenly act helpless, all while you know you might have contributed to their lack of skills. Oof.
Now that my kids are 7, 9, and 11, things are getting real in the kitchen. Despite the grilling cheese debacle, they usually pull their weight. Following the infamous Butter-Spreading Incident of 2014, we’ve been focusing on building kitchen skills—using the stove, handling knives, measuring ingredients, and more. One child once mistook “one cup of water” for “fill a tall glass and pour it all in,” resulting in a rather soggy oatmeal. Another opted for a tiny mixing bowl for banana muffin batter, creating a volcano of batter in the process. We’ve had carrots peeled to the point of being mere shavings.
It’s not a flawless experience. But even if my kitchen isn’t quite at the level of MasterChef Junior, my kids are genuinely learning through all their mishaps, and the pride they feel in their newfound abilities is priceless. My 7-year-old is eager to flour, egg-dip, and bread the raw chicken for dinner (and I’m more than happy to let him!). Meanwhile, my 11-year-old is gearing up for his first attempt at steaming mussels, which we’ll tackle together. As for the 9-year-old who struggled with the grilled cheese? He eventually made it and has since mastered the art of delicious cheesy scrambled eggs.
Of course, there are days when I feel short on time for kitchen chaos, and I take charge. Sometimes, they just don’t feel like cooking—and that’s completely fine too. (Let’s be real; cooking dinner solo with a drink and a podcast can be a welcome escape!) However, more frequently, they’re stepping up and learning, and I truly appreciate it, even if it resembles a bit of a hot mess. Because ultimately, isn’t that what family life is about? Like cooking, it’s a mix of blunders and imperfect individuals navigating their way through it all.
Plus, there are undeniable perks. This morning, I enjoyed a delightful cinnamon raisin French toast made collaboratively by my 7- and 9-year-old while I relaxed with a book at the kitchen table. It was delightful in every possible way.
In conclusion, while cooking with tweens may be chaotic and filled with mishaps, the journey is worthwhile. Not only are they gaining essential skills, but they’re also cultivating confidence and pride in their abilities. The kitchen might be messy, but so is family life—and that’s what makes it beautiful.