Let's talk about something for a little bit. I don't think anyone, ever, in the whole entire world, ever feels like they are grown up and fully competent enough to face the world 100%, or even 75% of the time. And that's okay. I've learned that that's a-okay. And it's even more a-okay to make and eat a whole bunch of soup when you need a pick-me-up.
~~~
I like to think that my parents prepared me pretty well for adulthood. I wasn't scared to death when it came to transferring medical records, getting licensed in a new state, changing my name on a million documents, patiently listening to customer service from the phone company, collecting documents for taxes and personal records, etc. etc. Those things were a breeze. As an elementary student, my mom had a summer program for my siblings and me to complete each year. We had a chart to fill out- ten times exercising, ten sessions of reading or writing, and ten lifeskills. Those lifeskills could be anything like going to the post office, running errands for Mom, helping cook or bake, doing the laundry, or the like. Once our chart was completed, we got a prize. I don't even remember what the prizes were...their excitement wore off. But wow, good work, Mom, because learning to do tasks independently has paid off so well years later. Seriously, you're awesome.
Another thing my mother taught me? You're gonna mess up. You're gonna be embarrassed at times. You're not gonna know everything- and for goodness sakes, it's 'going to,' not 'gonna!' (Sorry Mom, I try!) It's okay to ask questions and it's okay to try and fail. You'll get it right, or at least closer to right next time. So don't be timid and go for it.
And my dad? He taught me a lot too. He taught me to take things seriously, but never too seriously. He let me come along and help put together booklets for school and sports when he had to make them. He let me help take inventory and sort jerseys in his coaches closet. He taught me how to laminate, photocopy, scrape paint off an old garage, paint the walls on the inside, pound nails without hitting my hands, check various fluid levels in my car, and make a garage look really, really nice.
My parents did a good job of preparing me for the real world. I normally float around feeling pretty confident about my abilities to get things done.
And all that's fine and dandy...until I want roast beef. I'm pretty handy around the kitchen, normally. I know the basics and can make some pretty decent casserole. I even know how to cut cold butter into flour, zest and juice, and crack an egg with one hand! Winner. But I'm still running into roadblocks- things that should be really simple, that are kind of intimidating simply because I have never done them. (I just learned how to cut a green pepper this summer...)
You guys, this is actually a little embarrassing. Don't laugh at me, please! I love my Mom's roast beef. I think she does it better than anyone else. I've been craving it every now and then, but give up because I don't know what a "roast beef" is. You can't just walk into the grocery store and say, "Excuse me, where's the roast beef?" They'd just point you to the meat counter, where you ask the same question and the meat guy looks at you like, "Uh...what kind do you want?" Yeah, "I don't know. The kind my mom makes??" He has no idea who my mom is, or what kind of roast she makes, or why she sent her strange daughter to the meat counter. (Yeah, I'm small enough to look like I'm still shopping for my mother, and not myself). So...I haven't asked. I forget about my roast beef and move on. I don't really care enough anyways to ask and get embarrassed.
But yesterday, I got brave. I decided to finally humble myself and walk towards the meat counter. I went and got that delicious rump roast and now it's sitting in my crockpot, nestled between carrots and potatoes, patiently awaiting me to get home from work and eat it heartily. Well, probably not really, because first, rump roasts don't have thoughts, and second, if they did, they probably wouldn't want me to eat them, thus ending their existence. But back to the story- it really wasn't that hard. At all. There's only two types to pick from. I could have been eating roast beef all along.
But now that I'm done feeling silly and have decided to humble myself and ask next time, let's move on and talk about soup. When you feel silly about not knowing how to do something so simple and want something tasty to console your spirits, you follow your Mom's lead and make her two best soup recipes. Banana bread too. Why? Because everyone needs two soups and some sweet bread for supper. Why else? Because chopping and browning and mixing and simmering is good for the soul. Yep, that'll make up for your irrational roast beef fear.
Happy growing up, and happy soup making.
-Hannah
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