Fudge Sauce on Ice Cream (Does Anything Stick to a Kid's Brain?)
First, a recipe.
Keri's Fudge Sauce (I got this from Keri in Wyoming--I don't know where she got it)
1 cup sugar
2/3 cup cocoa
3 tablespoons flour
1/4 teaspoon salt
1 1/2 cup milk
2 tablespoons butter
1 teaspoon vanilla
In a saucepan, mix sugar, cocoa, flour, salt and 1/4 cup of the milk. Blend until smooth, then add remaining milk. Cook, stirring constantly, over low heat, until sauce boils and is thick. Remove from heat. Stir in butter and vanilla. Serves 12-16.
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Lately, my efforts to teach my boys seem futile. How many times do I correct, suggest, direct, redirect, show, instruct and scold? Countless times. How many times do I remind, cajole, explain? Why do I have to say the same things over and over again? For instance, "Proper nouns begin with what? That's right, a capital letter." Or "CLOSE THE CUPBOARD DOORS! PLEASE!"
I am reminded of how pointless it is to pour hot fudge sauce over cold ice cream. The chocolate just slides down the icy slopes and puddles around the edges. Just like my words and their brains.
I worry that nothing I say actually sticks. They will never routinely flush toilets, wash their hands, and put punctuation at the end of sentences. They will always leave their shoes in the middle of the floor, forget to pick up their cups, and leave blobs of toothpaste in their sink. They will never clean out their ears, brush their teeth or comb their hair without a reminder. TwinBoyB will always say "Six times eight is fifty-six, right?" and I will always repeat, "No, six times eight is forty-eight. Always has been. Always will be. And so shall be forevermore. Amen." They will never LEAVE my house because they will remain 11 years old forever.
Honestly, if we are making any forward progress, it is measurable in millimeters.
And yet, I keep scooping the fudge sauce over the top, over and over again. I hope one day, something will stick before the ice cream totally melts and makes a sticky mess. And I hope my kids will eventually become valuable citizens of the United States, remembering to brush their teeth and close and lock the door when they leave the house. (Please, I hope they leave one day.)
In the meantime, I need fudge sauce over ice cream over brownies.
Keri's Fudge Sauce (I got this from Keri in Wyoming--I don't know where she got it)
1 cup sugar
2/3 cup cocoa
3 tablespoons flour
1/4 teaspoon salt
1 1/2 cup milk
2 tablespoons butter
1 teaspoon vanilla
In a saucepan, mix sugar, cocoa, flour, salt and 1/4 cup of the milk. Blend until smooth, then add remaining milk. Cook, stirring constantly, over low heat, until sauce boils and is thick. Remove from heat. Stir in butter and vanilla. Serves 12-16.
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Lately, my efforts to teach my boys seem futile. How many times do I correct, suggest, direct, redirect, show, instruct and scold? Countless times. How many times do I remind, cajole, explain? Why do I have to say the same things over and over again? For instance, "Proper nouns begin with what? That's right, a capital letter." Or "CLOSE THE CUPBOARD DOORS! PLEASE!"
I am reminded of how pointless it is to pour hot fudge sauce over cold ice cream. The chocolate just slides down the icy slopes and puddles around the edges. Just like my words and their brains.
I worry that nothing I say actually sticks. They will never routinely flush toilets, wash their hands, and put punctuation at the end of sentences. They will always leave their shoes in the middle of the floor, forget to pick up their cups, and leave blobs of toothpaste in their sink. They will never clean out their ears, brush their teeth or comb their hair without a reminder. TwinBoyB will always say "Six times eight is fifty-six, right?" and I will always repeat, "No, six times eight is forty-eight. Always has been. Always will be. And so shall be forevermore. Amen." They will never LEAVE my house because they will remain 11 years old forever.
Honestly, if we are making any forward progress, it is measurable in millimeters.
And yet, I keep scooping the fudge sauce over the top, over and over again. I hope one day, something will stick before the ice cream totally melts and makes a sticky mess. And I hope my kids will eventually become valuable citizens of the United States, remembering to brush their teeth and close and lock the door when they leave the house. (Please, I hope they leave one day.)
In the meantime, I need fudge sauce over ice cream over brownies.
posted by Melodee at Thursday, February 24, 2005
6 Comments:
I read you every day and I just want to take a moment to say I can so relate! I love your humorous view on motherhood!
Just think back...it will be hard, and take a minute, but think...How many things did your mom say over and over again, and you half listened? Then, later in life, you did exactly what she said. My husband is the same way. He was raised differently, but I repeat what I want over and over and over again, and he never does it. However, a few months ago, I came home from work, and lo and behold, my dishes were done the way I want them (I'm anal, and they must be scrubbed before they go into the dishwasher)! Not only did he do them my way, he did them better than I do! I thought it was a useless plight, but he got it. I didn't even ask him to do them! It was great! The toilet seat going down took me two years! Just stick to it. My goal is to have my 2 year old "trained" by the time he's 18!
Oh, they will leave all right...
And hopefully by then, some of those things will have "stuck." I have decided that if a few things have "stuck" you can stand for them to leave...and I imagine that if nothing has "stuck" that you would be anxious for them to leave!
Hi, I stumbled upon your blog, and I really enjoy your writing!
Don't worry. You may think the hot fudge is just sliding off, but what you don't realize is that the "ice cream" is absorbing little bits each and every time. You'll see when they're grown up. I know cuz I just "grew up" and finally understood everything my parents were trying to teach me when I was a kid. :)
Keep serving the ice cream and fudge, and someday they may serve you with delights that you had never imagined.
I know you have your hands full, but imagine trying to be the one to be charged with sitting them quietly in a class of thirty.
You might think all the sauce is sliding off, but some of it sinks deep down inside and eventually the sweetness rises to the top again and comes back to you in a rich warm flow.
In the meantime lick your sticky fingers and enjoy what is, messy goo and all.
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