I do love Shrove Tuesday, as does Cafe Bebe who is hosting a Shrove Tuesday blogging carnival. Though explaining the concept of actually giving something up for Lent in a way my four and three-year-olds could understand proved beyond me, given that I didn’t want them to imagine that in future they might have some say over ‘special treats’. Far easier for them to think of biscuits and crisps as very occasional gifts from the gods, over which they will never have control. Wonder how long this illusion of being the boss will last? Anyway, pancake day was an organised affair from the moment we popped on the pinnies (I thoroughly recommend the Pirate one with bandana, £9.95 from TowelsRus). Older boy chopped tomatoes, younger one ferried grated cheese, lemons and Nutella to the table (nope, we didn’t plan to eat them all at the same time), and baby tried to pull everything off the table. Mary Berry’s pancake recipe from my failsafe, if slightly too no-nonsense, Complete Cookbook, came up trumps.

It didn't end up on the floor - unlike mummy's

Squishing eggs, whisking up batter, slopping butter into a pan. It was all very soothing, and took me back through years and years of pancake making. My mother is a very traditional cook, and Shrove Tuesday is right up her culinary street. We’d only ever eat our pancakes with lemon and sugar (she’s a stickler for salt, and no sugar, on porridge too), unlike my spoilt tribe who had one plain (cheese, tomato, mushrooms) and then as many as they liked covered with their choice of peanut butter, honey, jam, Nutella or fruit and ice cream. And yes, sometimes all at once. Yuk.

Older boy discovered a taste for flipping pancakes, and was thrilled when mummy’s third effort slid to the floor. Younger boy decided that lemon and sugar was the way forward, thank you, while baby ate three pancakes, which made his tummy look eight months pregnant with triplets. It didn’t take any longer to make than a usual meal, and doing it together made it much more fun. They ate it all with gusto. So we’ll be cooking together lots more in the future, especially now I know that I’m the clumsiest one in the family and dinner will only end up on the floor because of me. So I think that’s what I’m going to give up for Lent – doing all the cooking by myself. Not sure it’s quite in the right spirit of abstinence, but if it makes the children appreciate the effort putting a meal  the table takes, hopefully it’s a good waste-not-want-not lesson.

I can't eat and open my eyes at the same time