Muse: Coffee, Blankets, and Little Feet

As I sit here writing my blog, I look over at my three grandchildren piled up on blankets, sound asleep. I’m sipping my Donut Shop coffee with sugar-free French vanilla creamer — yeah, yeah, I know the fake stuff’s bad for you. But come on, God’s not going to let a little creamer take me out.

Anyway, I look at my babies and think about my own childhood — and I wonder what I want them to take away from their time with me.

I think love.
And safety.

I want them to feel safe, always. I don’t ever want fear to have a place in my house. Sometimes I worry that when I say “no” or fuss at them, that’s all they’ll remember. But then I remind myself: my past isn’t theirs.

I want them to sleep at night without fear.
I want them to have full bellies and remember the smell of something baking.
I want them to grow up doing life with me — making biscuits, pancakes, cookies. Laughing, learning, and making messes we’ll clean up together.

And more than anything, I want to teach them the science behind cooking — the art of creation. Because it’s a skill no kind of AI can ever replace.