One Sick Poem

Dizzy, Sniffy, Sneezy, Drippy, Achy, Chilly, and Red.

These are symptoms, NOT the Seven Dwarves.

Oh yeah, and my POUNDING HEAD.

Je Ne Sais Quoi

Wow.

Can it be THURSDAY . . . ALREADY?  

I have so much to write about, but I have had very little time, lately.

All the SHOPPING, WRAPPING, DECORATING,
     RUSHING, and WAITING . . .

'Tis the season.    

As we speak, I am frantically searching for a dessert recipe
     to bring to a dinner party. 

Okay, wait.

That sounds so formal. 

Dinner.  With friends.

Better.     

I am not a "baker".

I like to cook, but baking takes way too much planning and patience.

I like to find recipes that require only a few ingredients.

This usually involves a little help from my local bakery.

Combine this with a few additional ingredients (to give it my own "flair"),
     and the result is . . .
                          what is the French saying?

Je ne sais quoi.

Something that cannot be adequately described.

Oui.

Anyways . . .

     I'd better get "baking".

Even the simplest desserts takes time.

Snow Days

Snow days.
I miss snow days, when the kids were little,
when the smallest of hills was a thrilling, exhilarating, GIANT sled ride adventure . . .
   when taking a walk in our overstuffed snowsuits was like going on an expedition,
listening to the sound of the crunch, underfoot,
     as each boot landed, brusquely, on the moon . . .
leaving our crusty, astronaut footprints behind,
                     as we navigated along the uneven surface.

And, as we walked along, our bodies blanketed up and protected by the bright,
     winter white world, we might have stopped, along the way,
to pick up a handful in our mittens - feeling the softness, the wetness,
                             and the cold against our faces . . .
sticking our tongues out to catch the fluffy, white, powdery wonder.

We would make snowballs for throwing,
     snow forts for protecting,
snow jumps for soaring.

And, snow angels,
   for . . .  creating, imagining, smiling -

                        BEING.

Then, back down to earth, where we would journey together for shelter -
   a place to rest our weary feet.
And, what a sight to behold!
A cozy little cabin . . .
   the smell of hot chocolate, inviting us in.  
Sweet magic in a cup, to warm our insides.

Snowman poop . . . floating on top.

Sometimes, I still refer to mini-marshmallows, as such.

Be Patient, My Child.

Dear Blog,

I am sorry if it seems that I have been neglecting you. 
Maybe it is the distraction of the holiday season. 
One would think that would give me plenty to write about,
     but alas, it does not.

I am sure that something 
             will come to me soon.

In the meantime, I offer you the same advice I just gave to my eleven year old son,
     who was having difficulty waiting for the
molton-y, gooey, chocolate-y, yummy . . . souffle,
                          baking in the oven, just moments ago -

"BE PATIENT, MY CHILD.  Good things will come to you soon".  

Sincerely,
Leslie Ellen Wynn (Morrissette) - aka "Becoming Me" 

Snow Makes Me Smile

Soft and white.

It makes everything bright -

     Snow makes me smile.

It wakens the world.

On a breeze, watch it swirl -

     Snow makes me smile.

It tickles the nose.

Tingles the toes -

Snow makes me smile.

Magical glitter.

Hearts, all a flitter -

     Snow makes me smile. 

Winter stars falling, drifting, dancing,

Whisper- soft landing,

Wide-eyed child, wondering -

     

 Snow makes me smile.

If My Car Had a Bumper Sticker

If my car had a bumper sticker, it would read something like this:

I have kids. 
I am proud of them
(when they're not pissing me off). 
They go to school; they play sports. 
We go on vacations.
But, I'm not telling you where. 

Oh, and I have a yappy dog. 
Proud of him, too.  
And, he probably yaps louder 
   than your whiny child. 

Caveman Goes to College

My daughter is a junior in high school, and so begins the "hunt" for college.

AND, much like during the caveman days, in addition to hunting, there is also searching and gathering. 

Recently, she and I spent an evening at her school, listening to several "experts" speak and give powerpoint presentations on how to go about the process (gathering). 

Imagining that we were all cavemen, sitting in our modern, plastic chairs (like in the Geico commercials), somehow, made the evening much more amusing to me.

Like a young child, I try to create my own entertainment in my head, if it is not provided for me. 

Fortunately, I was born with a pretty wonderful imagination. 

During the hour and a half presentation, there was ONE comment that made an impression on me.

One of the speakers was the spouse of an assistant dean at one of the local colleges. 

In pointing out the importance of ALLOWING OUR CHILDREN TO TAKE OWNERSHIP OF THE COLLEGE SEARCH PROCESS, she mentioned that, from her husband's perspective, one of the BIGGEST RISING PROBLEMS WITH COLLEGE STUDENTS in recent years has been the INABILITY TO MAKE THEIR OWN DECISIONS AND PERFORM SIMPLE TASKS.   

While they carry with them, through the "prestigious university" doors, all of the necessary grades
and test scores, THEY LACK THE ABILITY TO PERFORM BASIC LIFE SKILLS,
such as: 

Managing their own money,
Doing their own laundry,
Cooking a simple meal,
Plunging a toilet,
Organizing their time (and their rooms),
PROBLEM SOLVING SKILLS,
and yes,
Making even the most simple of decisions.

AKA - CAVEMAN SKILLS. 

I smiled, and nodded because, I have been well aware of this growing problem since my children were little,  by observing those around me. 

While I was busy raising my kids to be independent,
understanding that through autonomy, grows confidence,
I would watch other children their ages constantly depending on others to fulfill their needs -
children who were well above the age where they should be tying their own shoe laces,
cutting their own food up, making their own lunches, etc. 

Having said that, my daughter, especially, made it easy for me, as she was born with an independent spirit, and many times, though I wished for her to "need" me a little bit more than she did, I lovingly gave her the space that she required, while always keeping a "watchful eye" over her.

Of course, that never ends.  That applies more than ever, now that she is seventeen
 (and doing her own laundry). 

Borrowed from the words of a two year old ( "I do it!"), I have always tried to raise my kids with the philosophy - "YOU can do it!"

Now, while this may seem like a push for "mother of the year", believe me when I tell you, I am FAR from the perfect parent.  I am sure that my children will contest to that. 

BUT, I do know that when I send my kids off to college, they will be self-sufficient. 

At 17, 14, and 11.......................they already are.

I think that is worth more than a few extra points on their GPA.

 Don't you?