Boys Baking Bread
Because the weather is still blasting winter and the highways are treacherous (even for us tough Canadian drivers) we have been stuck at home this weekend. Our stretch of highway has been so bad that it has been closed on and off for the past few days. The strange fluctuations in temperature, wind and snow have made our only connection with town into a white, snow drift covered sheet of ice. There have been so many accidents, some fatal between us and our usual destinations. We we were all disappointed to miss church.
I kept the boys busy making bread on Saturday. Two birds with one stone. A project that keeps us fed, and keeps my boys from systematically destroying my house.
Although there was some extra sweeping and scrubbing to be done as a result of the extra "help".
They love the kneading.
I use a big bowl and a wooden spoon to mix the dough. Then when it's too stiff to mix with a spoon I dump it out onto the counter and the
mess fun begins.
Just a little more flour.
The punching and kneading was a great activity for Roman. He could punch, squish, stretch, and smash to his hearts content.
He even tried his skills at making buns.
Maybe I'll raise a future baker, or a future really awesome husband who can surprise his wife with fresh baked bread.
The sesame seed covered swirly loaf was Roman's creation. They are a little less fluffy since I stopped using eggs (allergy boy) but they are still yummy.
I made enough to stock the freezer, although it's insane how much of this batch has already been consumed.
We are bread fans. It's a cheap way to fill a lot of tummies. Maybe not the most trendy or health conscious food, but satisfying, wholesome, and comforting.
Something else that is satisfying, wholesome and comforting is time snuggled up with my littlest boy.
My Silas boy so often gets lost in the mix. He's not the baby and not the "big kids". This leaves him vying for attention in ways that drive me crazy (intentionally doing naughty things). I love this boy to bits but I'm honestly still trying to figure him out. This past couple weeks the Hubster and I are making an almost exaggerated effort to spend time with, encourage, and show a lot of spontaneous affection to him ,at the same time cracking down on the behaviors that are making our life more stressful. I'm seeing glimmers of him trying to please me, reciprocating affection, and even remembering the manners I've been drilling into him for 3 years. He is a sensitive boy and afraid of everything. He has so much potential but he hides in his shell and interacts with the world on his terms.
It has been causing me a ridiculous amount of parental guilt lately. Stupid really. I feel that somehow I have traumatized him causing him to retreat, or form some sort of attachment issues. I know that sounds crazy. Probably Satan trying to wound me in the worst possible way.
The thoughts that invade tell me that our foster parenting caused his insecurity, traumatizing him with instability at a vulnerable age.
I feel nuts for even mulling these things over but , could it be?
Could these things have caused him harm?
Is he scarred for life because we left him for 10 days when he was 2 years old?
What is it with mothers guilt?
It doesn't matter what we do or don't do as mothers we will always find some area we may have failed our child.
Ok, that's enough of a peak into my inner parental insecurity
I never want him to doubt my love for him or question his value in our family.
I sure do love this sweet boy
even if I haven't quite figured out how he's wired yet.