Soup for the soul

So, in my culinary endeavors I decided to make a soup that I knew would push Emma's taste palette (well she really just loves simple tomato soup and borscht soup). So I cooked up this southwestern bean soup with shredded chicken.

Emma was a good sport. Looked at her bowl of deliciousness and said, "Well, Mommy, it looks weird and doesn't smell so good, but I'm going to try it!" That's all I wanted. Good job keeping an open mind.

She tasted it and said, "Okay, so if this (thumb up) means good, and this (thumb down) means bad - your soup is uuuhhh .... (her thumb straight to the side slowly slumping down a bit) OK, so it wasn't her favorite thing, but she ate it.

The next morning we were watching our usual morning news while getting ready and having breakfast. There was a report on how the global number of children living in hunger has gone up. We empathized a bit with how it would feel to always be hungry. Suddenly, a light lit up in Emma's eyes. "Mommy, I wish there was a way for us to help -- I wish we could figure out a way to send the children your soup!" I smiled and said, "That would be a great thing. But for now there will be left overs for us to eat." The light in her eyes was not quite as bright as just moments ago... :)

Better than any flu shot

I've been spending some quiet lone time with a flu bug for the past several days. Emma stayed with her dad, to avoid repeating my experience. Today I'm well enough to have her home again. After a huge hug when picking her up from school, Emma eagerly announced she wrote a letter to me.

After getting home this is what I read:

Dear Mommy

I hope you feel better. I LOVE you SOOO much! I feel sooooooo bad for you. Do you know why I love you SO much? Because you love me the way I am. And no matter what, even if I get MAD! You still love me. I hope you get better.
Love,
Emma
P.S I LOVE YOU!

My heart is so full and content. You see, I was loved as a child. However, be it the Finnish nature or my parents in particular, I translated much of the love being tied to things I did well, or accomplished. Not just me. One of my goals as a mom was to change that message... I think I'm on my way.

Find yourself

So we're driving around for errands and a song comes on the radio. A guy singing that he will let her go. But he will wait until she finds herself and comes back.

Emma: I like this song. I can understand all the words. He says he will wait for her to find herself.

Me: What does that mean? What does it mean for someone to find herselves?

Emma: Well, it's like someone really knowing who she is. Like someone can decide to be Goth. Just kind of decide that's what she wants to do. But then finally when she meets a boy who lets her be herself, she finds out that she's not Goth and finds who she really is. That's what.

Me: Right. Ok. (WAIT!!!! You're eight, right? High school is going to be a piece of cake! ..................................right?)

46!!

I've been planning a nose piercing and wanted to know Emma's thoughts on which side of my nose I should get it ---

Me: So Emma, if I was to get a nose piercing which side do you think?

Emma: *stunned silence... she stared at me in complete silence for what seemed like forever* MOM!!! You're forty-six! Forty-six! That's crazy!!! You're forty-six!

Me: Are you saying you think I'm too old?

Emma: Forty-six! OH.... let me guess you want to impress men! (totally out of the left field as there has been no boyfriends, or even friends around -- don't believe in involving her in any of that... but that's another story)

Me: I don't think I need a nose piercing if I'm wanting to impress men... this one is just for me.

Emma: Forty-six!!!

All this got me cracking up and here comes the final blow....

Emma: Oh, and if you think it will be cool... no chance with that laugh!

..........................snippet from my life as the cool mom................................

Unbelievable

Emma and I spent the holidays in Finland visiting family and enjoying our Finnish traditions first hand.

At one point we had a serious conversation on the racial distribution of peoples around the globe as Emma struggled to find herself belonging to the Finnish sea of white faces.

A few days later, on a souvenier buying frenzy we went from store to store to find matching Finland shirts for her and her soulsister, Brianna. After several unsuccesful attempts...

Emma: Unbelievable! Unbelievable that there are no shirts that say 'I Love Finland' or 'Finland is the Best'!

Me: It sure is. You'd think people would like to let the whole world know how great Finland is.

Emma: That's what I was thinking!

After a few minutes of thinking...

Emma: I'm not sure how to say this, but are white people... are they not as smart as brown people?

Me: (not connecting the dots yet) Tell me more of what you're thinking?

Emma: Well, because the Finnish people have not thought to make shirts about Finland...

Me: I get it.. It makes you think they may not be that smart. I can see how you might think that!

We went on to discuss the absence of evidence for any particular concentrations of intelligence based on skin color.

However, her comment made me think -- I never realized how innocently prejudice can find its way to one's thinking. Emma was only trying to make her environment make sense and drew conclusions on her very real experiences. She's a child.

I would like to think that as we grow up and mature we will reconsider our childlike impressions of the world, but obviously that is often the missing step. Keep hope alive...

Who knew parenting also covers anthropology?

generation gap

I take Emma and her best friend to school most mornings. The two are like sisters -- love abounds as do those misunderstandings.

One morning, unlike their usual array of musical dance numbers to the tunes of "High School Musical" or "Camp Rock", it was quiet in Emma's room and Emma was staring out the window and her friend just sitting quietly on the bed. I poked my head in.

Me: What's up girls? Are you guys pouting in here?

Emma: (still staring out the window) Mommy, you don't understand my life circumstance...

Me: OK.... It seems like you guys are pouting. Just wanted to know what happened.

Emma: We are young, you just don't get it.

Me: Right... (humbly leaving the room)

Emma: Even when you say "diggy yo-yo", it doesn't sound right.

..................
Sometimes I do feel SO old...

the budding artist

I was just recently trying to purge some stacks of paper that at some point appeared important enough to hold on to. In the process I ran into an old note I had written to immortalize a bath time song I overheard by Emma. At the time she was only 3yrs and 3mos old and was lost in her expression as she was singing the following:

And I know --

My Mommy said Yes.

My Mommy is my friend.

Be my friend.

I love my Mommy.

Be my friend?

My Mommy said Yes!

I can't let it end.

....Mommy be my friend.