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.

founding fathers

Emma and I just returned from our vacation to the Black Hills of South Dakota. While there we visited the most beautiful sites including the impressive Mount Rushmore. Along the way we also frequented many stores with various souveniers for tourists like us. One particular T-shirt drew Emma's attention -- the shirt had a picture of the four founding fathers carved into the rock with an additional picture of four famous Native American chiefs. The text on the shirt says "The Original Founding Fathers."

Emma: Who are these guys that are on the shirt? Are they presidents, too?

Me: They are the chiefs that were here before the United States was formed and ruled over their tribes and the land.

Emma: So they were presidents!

Me: I guess you could call them that.

Emma: So the brown ones were here first!?! They started it!!!

Me: Right, they did.

Emma with such pride and satisfaction gave the infamous fist pump with an enthusiastic "YESSS!!!"

you know, boys...

After a long weekend at her Dad's, Emma and I were catching up.

Me: Sounds like a great weekend, Emma. But I sure missed you... so glad you're home!

Emma: I missed you, too, Mommy. One day I cried in my room.

Me: Oh, really? What was going on that made you so sad? Did you tell your Daddy you were sad?

Emma: Nothing, I was just in my room and I missed you so it made me cry. I didn't tell Daddy. He's a boy and, you know, he doesn't know how to work it out.

Me: Oh, I see.

Emma: He wasn't there so I just cried a little.

Me: What do you mean he wasn't there? Where was he?

Emma: He wasn't in my room. He was in his room watching his TV. You know how boys are.

Here's to hoping this early insight to the male psyche will save her a few unnecessary heart aches!

Boys are crazy!

We were driving along a residetial street when a huge pick up truck with tires about the size of a compact vehicle revvs past us weaving in and out of traffic. As it is revving it also

Me: (mostly muttering to myself) Why would anyone really need a truck that size??

Emma: (obviously listening in to my private conversation with myself) I tell you what, Mommy, boys are crazy!

Me: Well, at times it seems that way, huh?

Emma: Those boys should just sometimes walk and leave those polluting trucks at home!

There is hope for a cleaner tomorrow yet... :)

Sorry is not going to do it...

As Emma was being dropped off from school ...

Emma: Mommy I have a problem.

Me: What's that?

Emma: I can't do it without my two jackets! (erupting in mournful outright wail)

Earlier in the week I had given some slightly used clothes to her friend who is a size or two smaller.

Me: But love, you didn't want to wear the brown one for last several times when I suggested and both of them are a few years old and will not fit you anymore next winter.

Emma: (in the midst of sobbing) They are my two special favorite coats! I can't have Brianna have them.

Me: I'm sorry, I should have checked with you, but you never wanted to wear either one, so I thought you wouldn't mind. What if it's Brianna's turn to have special coats?

Emma: No, Mommy. She throws them on the ground and it really hurts my feelings. I never wanted to wear them, because I didn't want them to get dirty or rip. They are so special to me. (again NO breaks in the sobbing!)

Me: I am so sorry, Emma. I did not know any of this.

Emma: Sorry is just not going to do it, Mommy...

There was no mention of any of this in the advanced theories of family development!!! All those credit hours gone to waste...

Birthday Girl

Night before Emma's seventh birhtday. We're doing our nightly ritual and get to the goodnight story. I look over at Emma.

Me: It's the last time I get to read a story to my six-year-old... what happened to my little girl? (I'm smiling but tear are welling up in my eyes - I know I can be pretty pathetic at times.)

Emma: I know! ... Mommy are you crying?

Me: A little bit, but mostly happy tears. I'm really excited that you have a birthday and you are growing up, but sometimes I miss my little girl.

Emma: (stroking my hair) It's okay Mommy. I'll always be your little girl, no matter how many birthdays come.

.... I sure hope she remembers that when those evil teenage hormones start taking over. I certainly will.

worldly wisdom

Emma: Mommy, I know the S-word. It's a bad word...

Me: I see. What word is that?

Emma: Shut up. (anticipation of my reaction apparent in her tone...)

Me: You're right. That's not such a nice word to use.

Emma: I also know the F-word!

Me: (oh, no. here we go, all the good innocent days are fading... already??) Right. And which word is that?

Emma: (silence) Phoney!! (big eyes stating 'I can't believe I said that to my mom!') -- Is that a bad word.

Me: (holding back relief and satisfaction) Well,... it can be a not-so-nice thing to say about someone. It would probably hurt someone's feelings if you called them with that name.

Emma: I know.

...

Emma: I also know the other S-word.

Me: (can't this be over already??) Which one is that?

Emma: Stupid!

Me: Yeah, that's an old one we've talked about before. Not a nice thing to say. right?

Emma: Right. I don't like it. Some kids use it all the time. I remember I used it when I was three and my friend got upset. I don't use it.

Me: I remember that. I'm really proud of you that you try to be kind to others. That makes a good friend.

Emma: **shy smile**

i think i helped her a little bit

Emma: Mommy there's something I need to tell you about.

Me: Okay, love. What is it?

Emma: I'm feeling really sad. It's about Bonnie. Her grandpa died when she was one. He was the first one to hold her and he even fed her, but he's died

Me: Oh, that is sad. Sounds like Bonnie had a sweet grandpa.

Emma: Yeah, makes me sad.

Me: I think Bonnie was really loved by her grandpa, huh?

Emma: She said she was sad in class and I told her we need to talk about it on the hill during recess. So we did. She told me and I think I helped her a little bit. But I was sad too.

Me: I know sweetie. You are a good friend and I can see that you helped her by listening and being there.

I am one proud Mommy! My girl has such a

It's not me, it's my tummy.

Emma: Mommy, I've noticed that always when I'm at the apartment, my tummy hurts, but when I leave the apartment, it doesn't. It's kind of mysterious.

Me: Really? Can you think of anything at the apartment that might make your tummy feel that way?

Emma: I've thought about it and I think it's that my tummy thinks that Gracie (0ur sheepdog) might die.

Me: Aah. Emma you know we've talked about this (she has been a bit obsessed about Gracie getting old ...) and Gracie is very healthy and will be with us for many years.

Emma: I know that. I know it but my tummy doesn't seem to. I don't think she's going to die, but I think my tummy thinks that. Not me.

Me: Okay. Well, maybe we need to work on telling the tummy that she can relax, cause Gracie is healthy and as silly as always. No worries.

Emma: I'll work on that.

the budding music critic

Driving in the car seems to elicit the best insights from most of us. On our recent trip to Ft Collins to visit family, we heard Zac Efron (High School Musical 2) song "Bet on it."

Me: I really like this song. What do you think?

Emma: I do too!!

A few moments of singing along....

Emma: I really like the DRAMA of it!

Me: Oh... tell me more about that...

Emma: You know, the drama of it... there's anger. The girl left and he's angry and no one understands.

Me: I see...

I'm waiting for the day that I can come up with something equal in depth to some of these comments... until then I keep learning.

The perfect couple

so the time has come to tell Emma that her father and I have decided to divorce. Not an easy task no matter what the circumstances. She reacted to the first conversation with silence and just a few tears rolling down her cheeks. Later she was able to express herself more verbally stating she did not want her father and myself apart. She demanded an explanation of why we didnt' want to stay together -- how do you explain to a 6-year-old something that on a given day is too complicated to understand in your 40s? I tried relating it to her world, talking about not having things in common and how hard it is when we don't like the same things. Emma thought about it and the expression on her face clearly communicated that my feeble attempts on examples was not working so well.

Emma: You do have things in common!

Me: I know sweetie, this is a complicated grown up thing to understand. I need you to trust me that one day when you are older you will understand it better.

Emma: I can't wait until I'm old.

silence...

Emma: But you recycle and Daddy recycles and I do -- we all have that in common! You do have that in common, you both recycle.

Me: I know.

Emma: and you both have the same nose (...????)

Me: okay.

Emma: I don't want you to be apart. No.... You make such a perfect couple!

Me: I understand. I need you to remember that we both love you and we are doing this because we believe it's the best thing to do for all of us.

back to sobbing.....

My heart is really breaking, as I listen to her pain. Here come the second guessing and wondering if this is right. Rationally, I know this is right. I need a glimpse of the future to hear her say that she now understands and appreciates the hard choices I've made in her best interest as I understood it to be at the time. Since that is not available... I need to create that outcome through my love and patience with her at this stage, I think. (.....?) Ugh, this parenting responsibility stuff is not as simple as it seemed when I had no kids!

are my buttons that obvious?

It was Wednesday night after a fun day at camp and weekly horseback riding lesson. Bedtime had come and gone, but we were still just getting ready for bed. There was no time for the bedtime story ritual and really Emma was getting crankier by the second already. That piece of news was not well received by her and a melt down insued. It progressed to the need of firm direction from my part which included counting to three (which still works like a charm, thank goodness!!!) and raising my voice just to be heard over her dramatic wailing. Finally she stomped in to her room.

Emma: You did not even say please!

Me: I realize I did not. I am getting very cranky, too, and need you to just settle down and go to sleep. We are both very tired.

Emma (throwing herself on the pillow): You are not the kind mother that I thought you would be! (button)

Me: I am sorry, we've both gotten so upset, but like I explained several times, it is very late, you are tired and you need to go to sleep. Tomorrow morning will feel much better.

Emma: You lied! (button)

Me: Emma, you know I do not lie to you.

Emma: You told me that my mood would not get a story and then I asked very nicely and you still didn't give a story. You lied!

Me: That was not a lie. You did ask nicely which I appreciate, but first you were screaming at me. The reason for not getting a story was because it is late and you are too tired.

Emma: You are talking to me like I'm THREE YEARS OLD!

Me: Honestly Emma, your behavior right now reminds me of when you were three.

Emma: I am much older! I am six.

Me: I know.

Emma: I am so angry.

Me: I understand you are angry. I need you to lie down and I will rub your back to help you calm down, if you think that will help.

Emma: Alright.

After a good deal of back rubbing and a familiar night time song, she calmed down and we had a very sweet conversation regarding how difficult it often is to start with nice when one is tired, no matter how old they are. Emma agreed we were good again, and drifted off to sleep.

How does she know that two of my primary goals as a parent are to be a kind parent and never to lie to my child??? How? I guess I'll never know. On the other hand it makes me smile that my daughter knows me so well. :)

i have no one

Monday -- one of the hardest days for the human race.

Mornings are slow and cranky. Evenings are plain tired and cranky.

But the crankiness dissapates with a phone call from Daddy who's out of town on a business trip. Emma goes from slamming doors and grunting at me to sweet and innocent, "Hi Daddy. -- Getting ready for bed. -- I had fun..."

After the conversation ends I get a glaring stare. Where did she go again? Who is this?

Me: "I know we've talked about this before, but help me understand how come you are so angry at me? And so able to not be angry with Daddy? It's hard to understand because you seem to have a hard time not being cranky and suddenly with Daddy it's gone."

Emma: "It's because you told Daddy the truth. I had lied and then he spanked me"

*** Editor's note: This incident happened two years ago. My understanding from the two parties is that she's only been spanked that one time. I am personally 100% opposed to spanking and will never agree it is needed, but out of respect to Emma's Daddy, I have chosen to step off my box and let him parent how he finds is most suitable to him, unless I assess his behavior to be harmful to our child. In return, I expect him to observe my methods and sound an alarm if need be.

Me: "Emma, we have talked about this. You did not get a spanking because Mommy told the truth. You were spanked because you lied."

Emma: "But it was pain. And I'm afraid of Daddy now that he will spank me again."

Me: "Has there been other times that you were spanked?"

Emma: "Just that one.... well, maybe before I remember..."

Me: "I don't believe there's been any other times. But you still didn't really explain why you are so angry and cranky just with Mommy."

Emma: "But Mommy, it's just that there is so much angry inside me and it has to come out and I have no one else to be anry at but you. I have no one else... and with you I know that you don't spank so I can be cranky."

Me: (stomped once again) "I see. And you are right. We all need to feel safe enough to be angry. It's okay, you can be angry with Mommy."

My question is what am I going to do when this child developmentally is capable of abstract thought, when at six I get this??? Anyone??

Finally

I am a fortunate mother of a now 6-year-old pearl of wisdom, Emma. Of course I acknowledge that my assessment of her brilliance is very subjective, but others seem to (or are too polite to tell me otherwise) enjoy the funny stories of Emma's discoveries. I've been told to write the stuff down for future reference and I mean to... but haven't. So I'm hoping that this blog will inspire me not only to be hip and with the times, but record some those stories that are an everyday event when one is lucky enough to have an emma in her life.

Let me start off with a recent piece of advise I received from Emma. I have been on a weight loss journey for the last six months or so. Reasons are multiple and not really focus of this blog, so we'll leave those aside. Emma has noticed and wanted to offer her support in her own way. One morning as I was dressing she came to me with very gentle gestures as she is a very affectionate and kind soul.

Emma: Mommy, I'm trying to say this very very nice... really I want to be nice about it...

Me: Yes love, what do you have in mind?

Emma: Well..... I'm thinking.... I think that maybe, a good idea, maybe, for you.... maybe working out would be a great idea for you....

Me: (cracking up) Well, my child, once again you seem to have a great idea.

Emma: I wanted to be nice.

Me: And you are, my love.

Another -- Just recently I was taking Emma to summer day camp and from the back seat it comes..

Emma: Mommy, how big is life?

Me: That is hard question to answer. Let's see... life is kind of everywhere around and in us, so that would make it really big.... Life is a hard one to really measure in terms of big or small, but it's just everywhere. What do you think of that?

Emma: Well, I know that life is quick.

Me: I see. Tell me about life being quick.

Emma: Some mommies have babies and then they are too busy to take care of them.

Me: Oh, tell me more about mommies being too busy (of course I'm already thinking I am not paying enough attention to my child, she is trying to tell me something...)

Emma: Well, some mommies have babies when they are really old and then they are not around long enough to take care of them.

Me: (has she been reading the news paper of the 60-year-old woman giving birth? watching news on tv? gasp, does she think I'm too old and going to die soon???) I see. Did you hear about that somewhere or what made you think of it?

Emma: No, I was just thinking.

Me: Okay... Do you know someone who is really old and has a baby or does one of your friends have an old mommy or something else?

Emma: No. I was just thinking. I think I'm done talking for now.

Me: Alright. (still feeling a bit guilty like a mom only can.... )