I don't do well with children in the kitchen.
I'm not the mom that loves to have all of those little hands "helping" with every meal. If I had my choice, I'd have some magical way of keeping the twins, their toys, blankets, cups and door banging/spice throwing hands out of the kitchen all the time. I'd put up gates, but there would be The Screaming and that's not exactly an improvement. Besides, babies - like cats - are forever on the wrong side of any door, gate or fence you put them on.
Now some of you are horrified and aghast that I would make such a suggestion, while others (I know you're out there!) are nodding your heads in agreement.
Cooking at this point in my life, is a hobby* (I don't get out much, really.). It's something I like to do and I like to do it well. This comes in direct conflict with having children in the kitchen, most likely because my concentration is constantly broken. Also, my memory is short and shot full of holes probably because it is now filled with 3 children's worth of baby information (weight at birth: 6 lb 14 oz, 6 lb 10 oz, 6 lb 14 oz; eye color: green, blue, brown; hair color: auburn, light brown, dark brown; birth times: 1:07 am, 8:26 am, 8:28 am), likes and dislikes (too long to list). There's very little room for "new" temporary pieces of information. So when I'm measuring and pouring, it's really important to know just how much salt I've just put in the pancakes/cake/bread/soup. Was that one teaspoon? Did I already put it in? Have I not put it in yet? Crap!
Since I cook around 3 times per day, that's a lot of work to have constantly interrupted with whining, crying, yelling, screaming, mysterious crashing noises from the other room or being grabbed around the knees and shoved. The babies: they are distracting.
So you'll have to forgive me for not appreciating time with the short people in the kitchen. I can wait until they're 8. Or, you know, 12. I'm not picky.
* Sitting in front of me on my desk are printouts for homemade marshmallows, Greek seasoning mix, and dulce de leche. I bet if I looked through the pile to my right, there'd be even more. It's not just a hobby, it's an obsession!