How to make a memory.

It was a real shock for me to learn that not everyone's parents believed in them the way my parents believed in me.  Whatever thing intrigued me they would make sure I got enough of a chance to experience it that I could make an informed decision about whether it was something I'd like to do with my life.

I remember a flying lesson my dad arranged for me.  They took me to Seattle for a cattle call chance at being a model, my mom even took my head shots.  They sent me to Washington DC for a week to see if journalism might interest me.  I knew that if I thought I could do something, they thought I was right.  I know how much that confidence in me inspired the confidence I have in myself.  Tonight, the eve of Thanksgiving I want everyone to know that I am thankful for parents who believed in me.  I am thankful that I had that example to learn from to be able to give my child experiences she might otherwise have missed.  Even if that experience is as simple as making a chocolate pecan pie - at the age of 2.  When other people might tell her she isn't big enough, I want her to know that I believe in her.  

That said, this is one heck of a good looking pie.  Not only was she making a pie, we were making a memory.