As moms, I think we’re all a little self-critical. At least I am. One way I fall short? Breakfast. Big time. I don’t make it. And if I had my way, I’d sleep through it. But I recently decided to change that.
My husband was at work and I decided to make my toddler Cinnamon Banana Waffles. I love involving him in the kitchen, and since I’ve been struggling with not being a mom who rises, shines, and makes breakfast, I was going to change things. Today, I was going to be that awesome mom who makes breakfast!
I might as well tell you now that this post was going to be a “here’s an amazing recipe you can try with your kids!” post. But I’ll forgo giving the recipe, which was unsuccessfully altered to avoid egg, among other food allergens. Instead, I’ll share my story of woe.
After deciding today was the day for a good, hearty, breakfast, I let my son know it was time to bake waffles!
We gathered ingredients.
We mixed the ingredients.
We poured the ingredients into the hot griddle and waited patiently for the beeps that signaled breakfast being ready.
But alas, our Cinnamon Banana Waffles were not meant to be.
My toddler started to cry. “It’s ok!” I reassured him! “We’ll just make pancakes!”
But alas, the pancakes were off to a bad start quickly.
“Not a problem! We can scramble them!”
By this time, my son was realizing he was not going to get breakfast any time soon. I sang him the “Accident Song“ as I thought hard for another option for our batter, which of course, I had doubled.
“Aha!” I thought. “We’ll bake muffins!” “I saved the day and am the smartest mom alive,” I reassured myself. “There will be breakfast AND a blog post after all!”
And it looked like I was right. Well kinda right. Until the muffins sank.
And no matter how long I baked them, they just wouldn’t settle.
So we settled. And enjoyed a breakfast of frozen sausages and apple. Two hours after I started trying to make breakfast.
Afterall, it isn’t worth sweating the small stuff. There’s always lunch.