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| New Blogroll and some musings of a unicorn... |
| 01.23.05 (5:49 pm) [edit] |
Well it's almost the end of January. How fast the time seems to pass these days. It's a symptom of age, and also I think of our faster paced life than that of 30 some years ago.
I can remember being a child and thinking that the summer would take an eternity to come, and how the endless days of summer would stretch before me each June. Hours and hours to be filled with riding my horse to corners of our pasture, lying soft in the sumwarm grass, sharing apples with him as he grazed about me, while I left on adventures to distant stars and barely imaginable worlds of sorcery, mystery and magic. For hours I would disappear there, the soft light filtering through the poplar leaves as they danced in the slightest breeze. The rustle of their movements a constant sound that backgrounded those halcyon days.
But were they? I grew up in north central Saskatchewan. We weren't particularly well off. Grain farmers in the 60's and 70's. In fact I'm sure, my parents scrimped and saved for most of what we had, what I got to do at school and out of it as well. I didn't have the latest jeans, nor frankly did I particularly want them. I certainly didn't wear the fads that others did in my country school, and I definitely wasn't dressed in anything other than boots, jeans, tees and the odd blouse for most days of school. I didn't have a computer, nintendo or even any electronic games of any sort. My evenings were spent on the farm with my middle aged parents, playing cards, watching tv, reading books that they also read and discussing them. I loved it. I cherish the memories and wish I could give them to my own children.
There are things that are precious that are of the heart, but of material things, I'd have to say there's not that much more precious than some land. Enough to do the things you want to do, without being told why you can't. I'm talking about 10 or so acres to just spread out. No neighbours to decide what colour your fence needs to be to FIT in to the neighbourhood *EYEROLL*
There's a poster around that's popular with the ranchers about here. It's a cowboy and it's usually framed in old fence board, with barbed wire. It proclaims "Keep your city out of my country." That says it for me.
Enough rambling outta me...
Oh, yeah... before I go, new blogroll entries. I took out a couple I've stopped dropping in on and added a few that have been holding my interest. Broad at Bat has a certain way with words that makes me hunger for her next post. As does Linz of Bitter Like Yesterday's Coffee. Kim at Bacon and Eh's has what I term an old style blog. She posts about something, giving her take, opinion or a bit of info, asked a question of the day and provides some fun links pertaining to the post. I have to stop reading her late at night though, some of those links are SCAREEEEEE. :) but almost always good for a laugh or an awww or sometimes just a scratch of your head as you try to figure out why someone did that... :)
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| Kids... gotta love 'em |
| 01.23.05 (12:34 am) [edit] |
I've two sets of kids. My older set of two girls and a boy from my first marriage and two little girls from my second. It occurred to me today, the second bunch are no longer at the agreeable stage, where you can say with confidence and know she will back you, “isn't that true?” to the older of the two while saying, “there's never been a single real monster on Scooby Doo,” to the younger as she hides under the couch cushions. (and yes, we traumatise our children frequently with Bugs Bunny and Scooby Doo and other such anti PC cartoons)TskTsk how terrible. Now the older gets -that- look in her eyes, and you see her wondering just how much trouble she'll get into if she scares her little sister with the remark, "well that one was real," and will the ensuing ruckus be worth the talking to she'll get later about saying such, if she does.
Hmmm...
It's a temporary stage, I know that. But it's a scary one. Now I have to watch how they will set each other up for the next while. Because you see, despite it being an older than 3 stage, the littlest will quickly copy her big sister...and the wheels will turn... and mom and dad get to figure out when to sit back and let them sort it out and when to step in and deliver an impromptu sermon on how would you like it? and what if those were the last words you ever said to each other?
There's a number of these, what would you call them, homilies maybe, that abound in my repetoire as a mom. I've come up with the usuals, although I do have to say no one has ever lost an eye, nor ended up paralyzed or any of the other dire warnings I've administered through the years. My absolute favourite has to be "you're going to fall on your pointed little head." One day, #4 comes crying, rubbing her head (at about 2 or so). "What's wrong I asked?" The reply, "I fell on my pointed little head," nearly had me in tears of laughter. And before you give me that LOOK. I comforted her first and didn't let her see me laugh about it till later.
Of course, there's always the immortal... you can be family or you can be right. But hopefully that one will stay with the olders and not trickle down for a while yet. My kids love each other, of that I am sure...but there are days when they look at what another is doing and don't understand why they'd do this or that that or this particular way. But I taught them all to speak up when they feel they have something to say. To follow their own paths, and break their own ground. I have to admit, I've lamented to them each in turn when they've quoted these bits of wisdom back to me... yes I know but just once... couldn't you just say "Yes, mom," and go from there.
Sometimes people ask if it's any different, easier, harder the second time around. It's all of the above. :) It's different as I'm much more relaxed, easier as I have a clue and harder cause there's a whole new set of issues to avoid and train for and against. My situation is different this time. I got to be home with them. We have time for cooked homemade playdough (it really works folks :)) and slow meandering walks to the mailbox. I guess a lot of working moms manage those things too. I didn't. I was young, dumb and stuck somewhere I shouldn't have ever been, let alone brought children into. And yet, we all survived. That said, I think I prefer this time.
I think we have children too young in our society and I'm not talking about teen moms either. I mean even the people who do it *right*, date, get married, have careers and then kids. I still think despite our bodies being wired to produce young, we shouldn't do so quite when we averagely do. Or maybe what's right about now, is that I have older kids who pitched in and helped out and that makes us even more of a family. Maybe that way, there's three generations in one family automatically, and that's what works.
I grew up the *extra* kid in our family. The half sister that was the age of my siblings' children. I worried about it, when I decided to have a second family. My family wasn't cruel to me, and my worries are my own from how I felt not how they made me feel. I realize all of that. I did wonder how my then 15 yo would handle having a little baby sister or brother. And for the most part, she handled it beautifully. She even had the opportunity to be my coach when her sister was born due to a broken down truck. There were adjustments to be made, but no more than any *blended family* encounters these days, but we made it through.
Now, I get to be mom, and grandma in one breath at times. There's a lot to be said for having kids young too, I should point out. And I can say it all in one word...grandchildren. The sweet touch of a tiny hand upon your heart, be it your own child or your child's child is not something to be missed or rushed past. It is to be held onto and cherished and savoured.
Hug your kids today...
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| Over heard at the dinner table: |
| 01.04.05 (9:02 pm) [edit] |
#4 was being teased about never dating, or at least till she was 28. She said, in that serious tone that 8 yo who fancy themselves going on 20 use, "Well I was thinking I wouldn't date till I'm 21." Dad and I nodded, yep, works for us. "Well," she continues, "I don't want to have babies till I'm 35 or so..."
#5 (all of 3) chimes in, "I have babies too, mommy." "nope," I said, "not now, You're my baby, and always will be." "why Mommy?" "Cause you were born last." "Why Mommy?" (yes, we do have a theme going), "Because God has a sense of humour." I mutter, Dad splurts coffee onto the table and the kids look on in bemusement.
We crack ourselves up regularly.
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