Working the Weekend

Somewhere, over the past couple months, my 15 year old decided he wants a job for the summer.  Perhaps it was a reminder of boredom from last year or the dreaded chore chart mom created.  Truly, he's just always enjoyed working - or rather making money!

Noah's mowed yards for several years, but summer sweat equity is difficult and undependable.  Not yet driving, he's limited to our neighborhood and the need varies each year.  Plus, mowing is not his passion.

When he set out to putting in applications, I secretly worried about his disappointment, given his age, but I prayed he'd find something.  He never hesitated though.  Honestly, I don't think age has ever been a factor for him.  If we wants something, he goes for it.  And that makes me a very proud mom.

Noah's passion, from the time he could climb up to the kitchen counter, has been cooking.  While I assumed whatever job he found would involve food, I expected it to be of the fast version.  Yet God had other plans a huge blessing in store for him.

He ended up securing a job a local pizza place that's walking distance from our home.  At first, he figured he'd be taking orders, bussing tables, or washing dishes. And he was fine with that - it was work.  What thrilled him was learning he'd be able to help in the kitchen!

On his first night, we'd planned to give him distance, not wanting to embarrass him with overly excited parents lurking in the background.  But a text came in from him begging us to come down, ironically after we'd already eaten.  A true salesman, he gives us the pitch about how good the cookies are, so we try a couple.  And then asks if we'd like some bread sticks, the station he was working at that night.  Although we were full, we couldn't say no.

My little chef is all grown up.  Insert heart tears!

And even though already stuffed, we gobbled down each yummy morsel.  My boy knows his way around some dough!

It's been such a joy to watch him from a distance, as I wait in the car for his shift to end.  I can sneak views of him sweeping the floor, taking out the trash, and chatting with co-workers.  He's loving every minute of it.  

Yesterday, I asked what he liked best about his job and instantly he said, "Just working."  How lucky he is to be in a job that matches his passion at such a young age.  I pray that trend continues throughout his life.

He's been there long enough now to earn his first paycheck, which he proudly presented to me last night in the parking lot.  

"Did you know taxes took part of my check, Mom?  What's up with that!"

...Welcome to the real world, son.  Welcome.

Joy Rising

Some of my sweetest memories are of time spent with the boys in the kitchen.  Last night might just be among the best moments ever.

From the time Noah was eye level with the oven, he was not just interested but excited to be cooking.  Standing on a chair, he'd don his little red apron and work side by side Mom at the butcher's block, complete with own set of kitchen tools.

As he has grown older, that interest has turned into a passion.  And at this point, he is seriously considering the culinary field for his future.

That passion certainly helps a busy, working mom, with a willing party to start or fully prepare dinner many weeknights.  He has been so helpful the past few months that, when I learned of a local culinary class, I knew instantly this was the perfect way to thank him.

Picking Noah up from school, we set out for an old fashioned "Mom & Me" evening.  And a date out isn't complete without sushi, so we headed for our favorite spot.  Laughing over chopsticks and soy sauce, I soaked up the one on one time with my son.

After explaining part two of our night, I nearly lost my breath, from the massive squeeze he hugged me with.  Excitement gleamed in his eyes and there was an added spring in already energetic step, as we crossed the street to the restaurant for our bread making class.

Donning flour dusted aprons, we immediately set to work at our stations from the crowded kitchen in the back.

A warmth filled the room, not just from the ovens holding samples of pretzel buns, pizzas, and sweet rolls, but from Chef Bill.  He welcomed us and quickly set to giving us hands on lessons of making a basic bread dough.  And then showed us the world of possibilities with that simple recipe.

We learned that bread is very forgiving from the lack of rules or strict measurements, as Chef Bill just sprinkled and tossed ingredients our way and could tell by the texture when we were ready for the next step.

I loved watching Noah work and knead the dough, so in his element.  

He didn't hesitate in asking the Chef for tips or any questions he had through the night.    

Living a dream.

Both of us left with our dough, a starter, and memories we'll both treasure for years to come.  Noah's joy followed us home, as he relived the night with his dad, sharing with his favorite moments.

Tonight we get to continue the fun, using our dough for homemade pizzas and french loaves.  And I can't wait for our next time together in the kitchen, when we get to start from scratch with a new batch of bread.

Chef Noah

We really don't have some strange fascination with eggs, even though this is my second posting in a month about them.  Today's joy came in the form of another omelet though.  It wasn't really the egg that made me smile, however, it was the boy who made it.

Tim and I tackled the yearly project of winterizing all the wooden surfaces in our backyard today.  As is the yearly ritual, in the midst of staining the deck, he was called out to a brush fire.  It happens every year, without fail.  He'll either be called out to work or through the fire department and I'm stuck holding all the brushes.  I don't mind.  Who doesn't love back spasms from stretching their arm repeatedly over their head for hours on end.  Alone.

All kidding aside, Noah kinda had to fend for himself today.  Of course, he could've ventured outside but that might result in being asked to help so we didn't see him much.  After the fire page, I snuck inside for a water and recliner break to be hit with the "I'm hungry" bomb.  I was hot, tired and had just pushed the Ahhhhh button on the chair. 

"How bout' cereal?" I said, which even though it was after 1:00 wasn't odd to suggest because he'd slept in and was still in pajamas.  Normally, he'd jump at a bowl of Lucky Charms but not today.  He was in the mood for a ham and cheese omelet.

So, I surprised him and replied, "Ok, cook it."  He was speechless for a moment and then bounced excitedly with a yip and a, "Are you serious?!"

Noah loves to cook and we've had many fun memories together in the kitchen.  The past year, he's taken an even bigger interest and I've begun to let him take the lead on many meals.  He's never used the stove unsupervised though so this was a big moment, for both of us.  Of course it wasn't completely on his own, as I was in the next room reminding him of the steps, one hand hovering over the recliner lever if a quick rush into the kitchen was required.

To my great surprise, he didn't need my help and the omelet turned out beautifully.  I was very impressed, as that is not a super easy dish for a novice cook.  The flip of the egg doesn't always cooperate and it turns out more scrambled mess than perfectly formed frittata.  His was flawless, golden yellow, bursting with flecks of ham and oozing with cheese. 

Part of me teared up a little at what this meant, my guy is growing up!  Seeing the delight in his face though at this culinary accomplishment, quickly brought a smile to mine.  I was so proud of him.  The enjoyment gave me the needed burst of energy to get back outside and complete the last set of rails on the deck too.  Great moment.  Good day.