My children have been my first, and best cooking students. They have all been cooking with me since the day they were born. Every year, on the day before Thanksgiving, we make pies. Each child makes their special pie with me. It’s a one-on-one lesson. Yes, it takes all day. But it’s a glorious day.
The pies the children choose to make have, over the years, become part of their identity. Charlotte ALWAYS makes the apple pie. Rosie ALWAYS makes the cherry pie, and so on. It provides us with consistency in our transient military life.
Every year each child grows a little, and becomes more capable of completing the steps of their recipe without my help. It’s a perfect representation of how, while I may not need to do things for them as they grow older, they would still like me around – even if it’s only to say “good job”, “I’m proud of you”, and even “I respect your decision to make a choice I would not make. You’re allowed to make this recipe your own. I honor that”.
I’ve raised them to MAKE IT THEIR OWN. Make their lives their own. Make the process their own. To see them fulfil that, to know they are secure in who they are, and that they trust themselves to operate with security in their autonomy – that has been my greatest accomplishment.
The below are photos from our pie day in Kentucky. Last year we had pie day in North Carolina. The year before, we had pie day in Japan. And in a year from now, we’ll be making pies in Germany. Traditions are very important to us.
*these recipes will be published in my upcoming book on Family Tradtitions*
A lot of people think having seven kids must be chaos.
And I suppose it could be. And I suppose it is sometimes.
I just never classified raising little humans as a burdensome thing.
Life is full of burdens, and upset, and grief – but my children were never part of the crappy part of life.
My children have been the best part of my life.
And my time with them is precious.
They are the best thing I ever did with my life. And I love them unconditionally.