You didn’t think I would make them, did you? That’s ok, neither did The Mister.
I didn’t need to make hamburger buns from scratch; I could have easily bought them at the store. But, somehow, making these make me a better mom.
I’m always thinking, and I get bored easily. Because of this I often take on too many projects and over commit myself. I check my emails constantly and carry the cordless phone in my pocket. When I am out, my cellphone is either in my hand or within reach. I’m not important. There is rarely a call or email that couldn’t wait a couple of hours, and, yet, I am always available.
But, am I available for my boys if I am already available for everyone else? I worry they pay the consequence of my frenetic personality, and I don’t want them to remember me as the mom who was always working. I’m not all about work! Case in point, I love to bake. I always have, and after so many years (my Kitchen Aid stand mixer is 16 years old) I’ve become proficient enough to tackle any recipe that strikes my fancy. I want them to know this about me, and remember it fondly later in life. And so, I choose to spend a day with Mikey and Nico and make in a couple of hours what I could have bought in 5 minutes.
As a rule, it’s not easy to bake with a 3 year old. You lose track of ingredients. Flour ends up everywhere but the bowl. There is a constant threat of boo-boos and burns. Sometimes it seems easier to just bake for them rather than with them. But, today I persevered, kept my mouth shut, and was rewarded when I suddenly feel a light touch and looked down to see this:
I was rewarded again when we pulled the dough from the mixer and a little voice beside me sighed, “Oh, mama. It’s just soooooo beautiful.”
And that’s why I made hamburger buns from scratch.