Homemade Ice Cream

Here Mary is looking distressed as she calls me for help, having become stuck. She's mostly quite brave and actually exhibits good falling skills.

Today I bought an ice cream maker, something I've been wanting to own for some years. My dad is a maker of truly gourmet homemade ice cream and he said that the simple $25 kind of electric ice cream maker does the job just fine, so that is what I got. I found a recipe for chocolate ice cream that looked good, went to the grocery for ingredients, and went to work. Unfortunately, while Mary was still napping I made the foolish, rookie mistake of telling my two-year-old that later we would be making ice cream and then had to listen to pitiful whining and wailing about his wishes to make ice cream right now (all probably exacerbated by the fact that he refused to take his nap today).

So after at least an hour of whining and a trip to the store, I tried to get John involved in our super fun project of making ice cream together: a mother and her son. Unfortunately, his understanding of the process of baking didn't translate to making ice cream and he just kept weeping, "But where is the ice cream, Mama?" This as I melted chocolate, mixed ingredients on the stove top, cooled ingredients in the freezer, then let the electric mixer do its work for about 50 minutes.

But at least he would like our (my) homemade creation! I scooped out the ice cream, which is quite a soft serve when it is fresh from the ice cream maker (firmer later when it has chilled more in the freezer). I turned my back for a moment and when I turned back around, the ice cream in John's bowl was seriously soupy and he appeared to be playing with it. I asked what happened and he answered matter-of-factly, "I poured my water in it." Trying to make lemon out of lemonades, I answered cheerfully, "Okay, you can drink it with a straw!" We were going to have a good time. I handed John a straw and he did indeed begin to have a good time by blowing bubbles in his chocolate ice cream soup, spraying bubbles all over the counter. I then said no, he couldn't just make a mess all over the place, so I took away the bowl of liquid, turned on my heel, and tripped, spilling the entire thing all over the kitchen floor.

John began shouting in concern, "You made a big mess, Mama!" Only once did I let my temper get the best of me and I replied petulantly, "Yes, because you poured water in your ice cream and ruined it and made me spill it!" John really was worried about the mess, so kept shouting about how I had made a mess and I decided I had better just about bite off my tongue rather than say another word because I was about to lose it!

After cleaning up everything, my wonderful homemade ice cream that had been sitting on the counter was now soup (so I ended up drinking it with a straw) and I went and got John commercial ice cream out of the freezer. So much for my super fun, stay-at-home mother-and-son wonderful time!

"I want to get in the bath tub too!"

Mary has recently graduated from her baby bath tub to the big bath tub, with her brother no less! Just like when she was born I had to think through every step of how to maneuver two babies into the car, out of the car and into the grocery cart, back from the grocery cart into the car, and so forth, I had to think through how to give a simple bath to two babies at once when I started doing it a few weeks ago. My solution: Lock us all in the bathroom so Mary doesn't crawl away, causing me to have to leave a two-year-old alone in the tub. Wash John's hair first, then put Mary in the tub to wash her hair. Then let splashing and hilarity ensue. Mary loves the bath and is quite confident about crawling around, splashing, grabbing toys, and positively flinging herself at John to give him bear hugs.

Look at all the hair on that girl!