Cartoons hardly grace our tv anymore. Instead, my girls request to watch "making shows" which means Food Network. They will watch one or two episodes to wind down and have quiet time in the afternoon. It cracks me up how much they love it because they really don't like eating anything I make - unless of course it's cheese crisp or peanut butter and honey sandwiches. London will always ask: "will she wash her hands?" Yes, she's my child. Oh and they're a bit obsessed with raw meat and washing up. They always watch me make dinner and I am specific about them not touching the raw chicken or whatever it may be that day. When Kelly's daughter got sick from eating an uncooked chicken finger from a fast food restaurant and got really sick, I told them about it and they have never forgotten even though it's been probably 6+ months. Hence, the obsession with washing hands and not touching raw meat.
The obsession goes further than just watching "making shows" as I noticed a while ago at the grocery store. London sits in the front, facing me. Savy usually walks, but she wanted to sit in the cart with the groceries. Fine with me. Then I notice her doing her own little show with my groceries and saying little phrases from the shows: "now I like to use this" or "just add a little bit" or "oh this is delicious!" It cracked me up when I realized what she was doing.
When she was born, I remember we had basic cable so I didn't have much choice in what to watch and I would sit and watch Food Network as I nursed. Maybe it affected her more than I could have ever guessed.
A couple weeks ago she decided she wants to be a chef when she grows up (which I like better than the police-girl she was previously aiming for). Nate and I told her we'd pay for her to go to culinary school and then she can make us food when we're old.
Cyndee got her a set of play pots and pans and spatulas and Amy made (yes, by that I mean sewed -- I'm in awe because I am NOT sewer - is that even a word?) aprons for both girls for Sav's birthday. She is stoked. Previously she only had plates, bowls and utensils and the pots and pans have rekindle her love for "making" in her room with her play kitchen.
It also cracks me up that they call it "making" instead of "cooking." Classic Savannah and London right there.
Here's the chef in her element: Is it just because I'm her mom or is she not just the cutest thing?