The Smell of Motherhood
Kristen Dascoli
kristen.dascoli@gmail.com
11/02/09
I was recently asked by Downy and Twitter Moms (http://www.twittermoms.com/forum/topics/if-you-could-define-yourself) what one scent I would choose to define myself.
Being the forever jokester, I thought "Well, sweat...because I'm always running around after my kids, rushing to get to school, hurrying to get chores done before naptime is over, etc."
Then I thought: "Grass" Because I have a thing about trying to look at the world in a different way everyday. We talk about what it's like for an ant to look at our world. Then the kids and I flop onto the ground and look up at the sky...and pretend that we're ants.
Next, I toyed with the idea that my scent would be gasoline, considering how often I spend driving the kids and I around Long Island in the mini-van.
Truth is, there are just too many "scents" to describe motherhood---the scent of clean laundry begging to be folded, the smell of bubble bathtime, the odor of spilled milk on carpet or potty-training "accidents," the unforgettable scent of a new baby...
But what smell defines ME? Hmmmmmmmmmmm...
Then, it hit me...
Pancakes.
Really!
Pancakes!
And this is why:
My father taught me how to make pancakes as a child. Sure, we used Bisquick. But we followed the recipe up until two main ingredients. Instead of milk, my dad uses ginger ale---it makes the pancakes lighter---and we add one more ingredient: food coloring.
You have no idea what it means to a small child to eat blue pancakes. It's silly...for no reason at all. And my dad always seemed to bring the silly into childhood.
So now, as a mom, I have passed that "recipe" down to my children.
Both of my girls love to share in this simple joy of coloring pancakes with me. Teaching them what colors we can make by mixing two or three together. Laughing as we make rainbow swirls in the batter. Doing a taste test of green pancakes vs. pink pancakes.
And that is what being a mom is to me. It's not the big expensive trips that my kids will remember when they have children of their own. It's the simple, silly things. The simple, silly joys.
Like making blue pancakes.
