Ruffle Apron

My four-year-old loves nothing more than to help me in the kitchen, and always has. When she was about a year old, I used to carry her in a sling on my hip as I cooked because it was the only way I could possibly make dinner in less than four hours. The result was frequently bowls of ingredients pulled down off the counters and gasps as I glimpsed her reaching for knives out of the corner of my eye. When I attempted a safer arrangement with her on my back, she howled in protest of her obstructed view.

The miracle is that these days she is actually helpful at times. I realized this the other day as I asked her to put a teaspoon of cinnamon into some cookies we were baking and then turned my back without a second thought. How amazing it is to sit back and observe that my child is internalizing the things I've tried to teach her over the past four years (and not just in the kitchen). Though I have consoled myself that this day would come (in an effort to stave off insanity due to endless repetition of something that will apparently never be heard), I am in awe that it is actually happening.

Now I must reevaluate whether or not the things that I have deemed necessary for her to learn are actually the things I want my energetic, spontaneous child to embody as she matures. To me, this apron suggests less of a focus on efficiency and order (in the kitchen or elsewhere), and more on creativity in and enjoyment of the task at hand.

I have posted a full tutorial on how to make one for your budding chef, artist, or soil scientist on my friend's blog, Kitchen Corners.