Don't Be The Little Red Hen

Have you read the story of The Little Red Hen lately? Remember the one where the hen does all the work of literally making her bread from scratch and her ingrate roommates want to eat the bread they didn't help to make?




Yeah, that one.

It seems like it could have been written by a passive-aggressive mom to her kids. All us red hens trying to keep households running while the littles carry on their merry way and then show up in the kitchen demanding to be fed, approximately fifteen times a day. I spent a long time living like that, often feeling exhausted and ready to quit cooking altogether, but that's not how I want to live.

And slowly the change has come, but it didn't come from my kids. It started with me. I truly love having the time to make our food myself. I always have, and I think this love of cooking goes back a few generations. I suppose to some it is drudgery, but it isn't so surprising that many people love to cook. The joy of life is often the work of life, especially when it comes to creating something new. Whether that is gardening, cooking, building, fixing, sewing, or some other daily task, creating things is not something I want to outsource regularly. But I do need help, or at least cooperation. But how to get that from young kids?

I started by trying to show my own joy in the process of preparing our meals. Okay, this isn't going to happen all the time. Probably not even most of the time! But when I am able to, I make sure the kids can see the love. The point of The Little Red Hen is to nudge lazy little ones into having some appreciation for the value of hard work and importance of helping out, but I found it doesn't delve into the joy of productive work. So when my kids were old enough, I started pointing out what work and care went into various meals. Not just taking them shopping, but connecting the shopping to having food at home--and getting excited about that. Not just cooking, but talking about the chopping, mixing, measuring, heating, and clean-up that all add up to a meal--and how much the care we put into preparation enhances the anticipation of that meal. I drew their attention to the tasks not to make them feel guilty or to elevate myself, but simply so they knew these things do not happen immediately or by magic, but by time and by love.

Honestly, I think they noticed most on the days when I just did not have the time or energy to cook much, or at all. Maybe they got sandwiches. Or the leftovers they didn't like the first night either. They were not thrilled, but whatever I made I told them that it was a gift of my time to them because I love them. And it did start sinking in.

When I ask if anyone wants to help in the kitchen, it is still hit or miss. And that's OK. Kids should build with blocks and scribble and squabble with siblings and play outside. But sometimes they say yes, and they are so very excited to be part of the joy that is taking care of each other. And I hope I can keep that going.