The Writing Mamas Daily Blog
Each day on the Writing Mamas Daily Blog, a different member will write about mothering.If you're a mom then you've said these words, you've made these observations and you've lived these situations - 24/7.
And for that, you are a goddess.
Friday, February 01, 2008
The Mixing Bowl
I was at play gym rolling a ball back and forth with my son, when a little guy with yellow ringlets and puffy checks stormed through the door and ran right up to me. Excitedly, he cheered, “Mih-ing bow!!!”
Trying to make out his words, I repeated, “My elbow?”
“Mih-ing bow!” he said again with more emphasis.
Still unsure if I understood correctly I asked, “Your elbow?’
His mom translated: “Mixing bowl.”
“Ah! Of course, mixing bowl.”
His mom explained in a beautiful British accent, “All he wants to do is cook, cook, cook! He loves baking. All day he runs around saying, ‘Mixing bowl! Mixing Bowl!’” She continued, “Cooking is this intense passion of his. He takes it very seriously. . . ”
Not spoken, but understood -- he was destined to be a chef.
I joked, “Well, that’s fantastic for you!” I pictured the twenty-month old whipping up omelets and pancakes on a Sunday morning while his parents lounged around reading The New York Times.
And then it hit me! Do we discover our passions as early as infancy or toddler-hood? And is it basically up to our parents to pick up on what these passions are so they can encourage them so that we’ll actually get a chance to go after what it is in life we love doing?
I thought of all the people I know who enjoy their work. Their careers all started young. There’s Laura whose bio reads that her passion to be around a mic and camera started at age three. She’s now a producer and heard on-air.
I went to high school with Eli, whose parents didn’t flinch when he asked for a fake-blood splattered cake at his Bar Mitzvah. He’s now a horror movie director working on films with Quentin. I hear stories like these all the time.
There’s the architect who as a kid was obsessed with toy models. And the teacher who was constantly passing out lesson plans to siblings.
New grads often hear the advice: “Do what you love and you will be happy.”
Does knowing what we love come down to how clued in our parents are, and their willingness to cheer on our interests?
I also hear stories about those still searching for what it is that they love. There’s the guy who always wanted to be a musician, but whose parents thought he’d make a good corporate lawyer. In school he ended up on the debate team rather than playing drums in band.
There’s the woman who wanted to play basketball, but whose parents signed her up for piano.
People can end up feeling off track. It makes me sad because they were once on track, but for whatever reason got steered toward a different direction.
Their folks’ direction.
As parents, my husband and I are watching what our son loves right now. And we will continue to keep an eye out for what he gravitates toward, and will do our best to encourage him to do what he loves.
At every chance we get, we tell him to dream big, and to always believe in himself. We tell him that he can be anything he wants to be.
Except for a football player, of course. That would be too dangerous.
By Andrea Passman Candell
Andrea is the author of the newly published book: “His Cold Feet: A Guide for the Woman Who Wants To Tie The Knot with The Guy Who Wants to Talk About It Later.”
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Trying to make out his words, I repeated, “My elbow?”
“Mih-ing bow!” he said again with more emphasis.
Still unsure if I understood correctly I asked, “Your elbow?’
His mom translated: “Mixing bowl.”
“Ah! Of course, mixing bowl.”
His mom explained in a beautiful British accent, “All he wants to do is cook, cook, cook! He loves baking. All day he runs around saying, ‘Mixing bowl! Mixing Bowl!’” She continued, “Cooking is this intense passion of his. He takes it very seriously. . . ”
Not spoken, but understood -- he was destined to be a chef.
I joked, “Well, that’s fantastic for you!” I pictured the twenty-month old whipping up omelets and pancakes on a Sunday morning while his parents lounged around reading The New York Times.
And then it hit me! Do we discover our passions as early as infancy or toddler-hood? And is it basically up to our parents to pick up on what these passions are so they can encourage them so that we’ll actually get a chance to go after what it is in life we love doing?
I thought of all the people I know who enjoy their work. Their careers all started young. There’s Laura whose bio reads that her passion to be around a mic and camera started at age three. She’s now a producer and heard on-air.
I went to high school with Eli, whose parents didn’t flinch when he asked for a fake-blood splattered cake at his Bar Mitzvah. He’s now a horror movie director working on films with Quentin. I hear stories like these all the time.
There’s the architect who as a kid was obsessed with toy models. And the teacher who was constantly passing out lesson plans to siblings.
New grads often hear the advice: “Do what you love and you will be happy.”
Does knowing what we love come down to how clued in our parents are, and their willingness to cheer on our interests?
I also hear stories about those still searching for what it is that they love. There’s the guy who always wanted to be a musician, but whose parents thought he’d make a good corporate lawyer. In school he ended up on the debate team rather than playing drums in band.
There’s the woman who wanted to play basketball, but whose parents signed her up for piano.
People can end up feeling off track. It makes me sad because they were once on track, but for whatever reason got steered toward a different direction.
Their folks’ direction.
As parents, my husband and I are watching what our son loves right now. And we will continue to keep an eye out for what he gravitates toward, and will do our best to encourage him to do what he loves.
At every chance we get, we tell him to dream big, and to always believe in himself. We tell him that he can be anything he wants to be.
Except for a football player, of course. That would be too dangerous.
By Andrea Passman Candell
Andrea is the author of the newly published book: “His Cold Feet: A Guide for the Woman Who Wants To Tie The Knot with The Guy Who Wants to Talk About It Later.”
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