Soup

I'm making soup today. Again. I made soup on Monday. I was thinking as I was chopping (because Hailey finally realized that if she didn't take a nap today and give mom some quiet time she was really gonna LOSE it) about the merits of soup. Soup is like going home, which is why we like it. But have you ever noticed that no matter how many times you make soup "just like gram" or "just like mom" used to make, it's not really just like mom's at all? It's always different. I can sign my mother's name ( I learned that well in high school) and I can imitate her voice. I can mimic her mannerisms, and I know what she's going to say before she says it. But I can't make her soup. Soup comes from a different place than say, a batch of cookies. I know, because I've made about fifty thousand batches of cookies. It's creative in a totally different way. It's all the things you like put together and steeped on a slow and rainy day. Sometimes when I make soup, it's because there's too many leftovers in the frige and it's time to use them up. Those are the best soups, because they're not planned. I like that free and easy kinda thing, ya know. Hippie soup, that's what it is when you do it that way... soul soup. Very deep indeed. I find raising two kids is very similar to making a good soup. You can't measure every little thing, can't fret over the have this, don't have that little bumps in the road. You have to know when you need to hover, stir, watch carefully... and when you need to just walk away and let that pot simmer. You can put the basics in, but at some point, they're going to come together on their own, and be what they were meant to be. Kids or soup, that is, either one. My Dylan... he's a chicken noodle for sure. He's smart, creative, funny and sensitive. He's warm and caring, and just like chicken noodle when I'm sick, Dylan always makes me feel good. And Hailey... well... she's a pot of five-alarm chili lookin' for a place to happen. She keeps things interesting, and she keeps me forever on my toes, but as they say, variety is the spice of life. Anyway, I better wrap this rambling up, because I hear something boiling in the kitchen, and it's time to go peek in the pot, and give life a little stir.