Project Awesome

Making my life more awesome

I knew it would be a bad idea about three minutes after I started…

on September 2, 2013

I thought I would make soup.  This plan was clearly doomed from the start because, really, who actually makes soup any more apart from stay-at-home-parents whose children are in school and people who like to pretend they are Jamie Oliver?  But one of my treasured childhood memories is the huge saucepan of vegetable soup my mum used to make, which I ate for every meal until it was finished.

So I get out the knife and chopping board and vegetables and cut the top and bottom off the onion.  And then Small Girl is sick.  On the table.  On the chair. Down her front.  On the floor.  Marvellous.  I clean up the sick, clean up Small Girl, clean the chair, clean the floor, clean my hands and return to my chopping.

Small Girl asks to paint.  I am happy with this, assuming that she wants to use the little palette of the very tidy paints she was given for her birthday.  But no, she wants the ready-made paints squeezed onto a plate, and a big paintbrush.  I set her up and put the onions in the saucepan, and start chopping the peppers.

Big Girl wants to paint too.  Of course she does.  I get her some paint and paper and return to my chopping board.

Big Girl wants some more paint.  Then Small Girl wants some more paint.  I get them more paint and tell them that I have to get on with cooking the soup (which is beginning to dissolve in the pan now, due to overcooking) so they can’t have more paint until I have finished.

Big Girl starts getting down from her chair, leaning against the wall with a paint-covered hand. “Stop! Don’t move!”  Big Girl cries, touches the fridge and tells me that “mummies don’t shout”.  That’s me told then.  I clean her hands and explain that I wasn’t shouting and I just didn’t want her to get paint everywhere.

I go back to my soup.  One carrot later, Big Girl tells me that Small Girl is painting her feet.  This is true.  She has greeny-black paint on her hands and her face and the chair and is carefully painting her feet with a paintbrush.  I ask her not to paint her feet.  She cries.  I chop another carrot.  She wants a cuddle.  I tell her that I can’t cuddle her while she is covered in paint as I don’t want to be covered in paint.  I tell her that if she has finished painting, I will clean her hands and give her a cuddle.  She hasn’t finished painting. She wants a cuddle.  I want to throw my soup in the bin.  I clean her up and give her a cuddle.

Finally, finally, a few carrots, half a swede and a million further interruptions later, I have soup.

Of course, my children refuse to eat it.  They clearly don’t care about my treasured childhood memories.


One response to “I knew it would be a bad idea about three minutes after I started…

  1. clare richardson says:

    I’m laughing but I ought to be commiserating…  I remember my mum’s soups which we all also used to lap up!  Sorry your children haven’t yet developed the sophistication necessary to relish your soup!  I’m sure it was delicious! 



What do you think?

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: