Come with me on a little journey .....
It all begins with Johnny. You see, Johnny just turned 14 and he is a quiet and shy little guy. He also isn't a happy young man. His mom and dad have divorced and he feels he is put in the middle of every argument they have. His dad has a new girlfriend and his mom is never home so he is naturally confused and depressed. He goes to school everyday but hates it because he doesn't have any real friends. Sure, there are people who talk to him but no real bonds are formed. Johnny feels alone. The teachers don't seem to notice this quiet young man who doesn't participate more than what he HAS to. Every week he feels a little more down, a little less understood and more and more alone. He is lost and feels he as no one to turn to.
We can all imagine where Johnny is going on his current path, right? He will either drop out of school, start experimenting with alcohol and/or drugs, and maybe even worse. Johnny has a bleak future if something doesn't change and change soon.
But, what if Johnny had even ONE friend he could turn to or ONE adult he was comfortable enough to talk with. Wouldn't Johnny have a better chance of getting off the path he is currently on?
Okay, yeah...this is probably way off the beaten path from where you might have thought I was going with this little entry but I feel it is relevant so hang in there with me. This entry started formulating itself in my head last night as I attended the annual media night at our local high school. When hubby and I walked up the band was playing (in a most excellent way) and you could just feel the community pride in the air. Hubby and I purchased t-shirts and other goodies from the groups that were there raising money. Little guy wasn't going to be introduced for a while so we just mingled in and around the crowd, chatting with friends. You know, typical small town Friday night.
And then I heard it. I wasn't intentionally eavesdropping but it was kinda hard to NOT hear, if you know what I mean. There were some folks complaining about a recent addition to the fall sports program. Complaints about this sport loosing athletes to the new sport, 'wasted' funds, etc. They were being not very subtle in their position and what they thought of the folks running it. I was offended by this and I'll admit I was about to join in with their little conversation and tell them my point of view. But, the little angel that lives on my left shoulder suggested that maybe that wasn't the time or place. I think this post is the time and place.
Getting back to Johnny: Suppose Johnny was a croquet player up through Jr High. He had teammates that he worked with daily to improve his game. He also had peers he could turn to and vice versa. They weren't just a team, they were family. Then along came High School. Croquet was no longer available as an option. Johnny didn't want to play football and he wasn't much for running long distances. He had never played an instrument in the band and cheerleading just wasn't going to happen. All he wanted was to play croquet and have things be more like they used to be. Low and behold, his long time coach approaches the community and croquet is allowed to become an option. Now, Johnny has a reason to study, so his grades improve. He works with his team raising the funds to buy uniforms and mallets, so his self esteem improves. He makes friends with some of his teammates and talks with his coach, so he no longer feels adrift. We aren't going to worry about Johnny as much now, are we? If adding a sport, club, or program to the menu of choices keeps ONE more kid in school and away from the other options, isn't it worth it?
Hubby and I have spent a lot of time discussing the controversy that is this new program. As most of you know, our little guy is a football player, so in all reality we really didn't have a pony in that race. But we tend to be fairly open minded about things and try to embrace any change that will help the community. Isn't this also a small town philosophy? We gladly provide money for t-shirts, donate for raffles, or offer to help where we can. We both feel that this is part of living in a community that cares. And it doesn't matter to us if the money is going to the band, the boosters, girls tennis or the soccer team. As long as whatever we are contributing is being used to help the ENTIRE team and/or organization, we will continue to help anyone who asks.
Change is hard for some folks to accept. I have heard many times "but...it's always been this way". Well, you know what? In 1869 blacks weren't allowed to vote. In 1919 women weren't allowed to vote. Why? Because it had always been that way. But guess what? In 1870 & 1920, things changed. Now, I am not saying that adding this program is equivalent to changing the voting laws and I am not saying that adding croquet is going to help every child. But, I bet it doesn't harm any of them either. Change is inevitable. If we can't change as a community, the community will become stagnant. Why not embrace the changes and help formulate a plan to make the community stronger and more attractive? I have always been a believer in being part of the solution instead of being a part of the problem.
I saw a picture the other day of a cooler full of Gatorade and a note from a coach wishing the new program a successful year. I thought that showed pure class and true Eagle Pride. Well done Coach and family! You guys have set the perfect example by your generosity and open mindedness.
Who knows? Maybe someday we will have a grandchild playing on the croquet team?
Saturday, August 23, 2014
Tuesday, July 8, 2014
Participation Trophy?
I see it every day and scratch my head in wonder. Little Johnny failed his math test, it must be the teachers fault. Little Sally isn't getting to play all the innings in a ball game, someone must be sucking up to the coach. Benny's meth lab blew up in the basement, it must be society's fault. What confuses me is that nobody ever says that little Johnny failed his test because he didn't study, Sally isn't getting to play as much because she doesn't work as hard at practice and Benny's meth lab blew up because he is a drug dealer (who probably failed chemistry, damn you chemistry teacher!).
Everyday people are making excuses for failing. As a society, we seem to be failing at teaching our kids and peers the value of accountability. If the kids today are told a failure is always due to "X" mitigating factor, will they ever accept the one true truth, sometimes shit just doesn't work out the way we want. Next time work harder, perform better, and you will probably have a better result.
When I was a kid, I played basketball. I wasn't a flashy player who threw out triple-doubles every game. I had a little natural ability but honestly didn't always work as hard as I was capable of. I never remember my parents going to the coach and asking why I wasn't starting or getting the same playing time as some of the others. I DO remember complaining about my lack of playing time to them early on and their response was "if you want it, work for it!". Those lessons very early in life taught me a lot. I started playing ball in 5th grade and guess what? There was a winner and a loser in EVERY game! We kept score, we learned the basic skills and we learned how to win and lose gracefully. And, at the end of the season we got a trophy. That trophy proudly proclaimed what position our team placed in the league, whether we were champions and got the BIG trophy or we finished dead last and got the itty bitty trophy. While we were recognized for playing the sport, we always knew if we wanted our picture in the paper with the big trophy we had to bust our asses and earn it.
Every week (day??) I deal with people who refuse to accept the responsibility for their actions or lack thereof. It doesn't seem to sink in that they are ultimately responsible for the result of their actions. If I send them to perform a certain task and find them hiding out in a break room, inevitably it isn't THEIR fault. It's my fault because I checked up on them, or it's their managers fault because he didn't do the job for them, or it's a co-workers fault because they just don't like them. REALLY? What happened to, 'yeah, I screwed up'? I don't get it. Really, to be perfectly honest, it's starting to completely piss me off! I work hard for my salary. I don't have the owner standing over me telling me every step to take to complete my days work. I understand that it's my responsibility to do the job I was hired for. My boss owes me nothing but a paycheck at the end of the day. If I want my paycheck to grow then by god, I know it's on my shoulders to do what is on my daily task list as well as handle any curve balls that are thrown my way, all to the best of my ability. I don't half-ass my tasks and when I screw up, it's my job to call him and say "Yup, I screwed up!" I work for what I want and understand that is how to move ahead. What ever happened to hard work = big reward lessons?
Yes, I tend to blame parenting on a lot of the younger generation's issues. We push our kids so hard to out perform everyone, but don't take the time to just let them be kids. Kids screw up. They get into trouble, they get hurt and they hurt us. That's just LIFE. When my little guy got into a fight at school, I didn't blame the administration for taking the disciplinary action they did. He was fully aware of the consequences of fighting in school before he threw the punch. Kids fight, and when they fight in school they face disciplinary action. I was proud of him for not making excuses or trying to shift the blame. It was all on him and he owned it, Period. Look back at your childhood and then look at how you are with your own kids. When you failed a test, did your mom blame it on the teacher or on you? If you got a speeding ticket, was it your fault or the cops fault for picking on you? If all we ever give our children is excuses for their actions, then that is all they will ever have, An Excuse!
Personally, I think the damn "Participation Trophy" philosophy is the root of a lot of this. Kids are taught at an early age, no matter how hard they work, they will get the same reward as everyone else. And that if they screw up, it's not really their fault because Mom and/or Dad will place the blame everywhere but on them. Little Johnny is the best player on the team, he never has to sit out or play in the outfield. Of course, parents can't say to their kid, "Johnny is the shit and plays his heart out. He never misses a practice or game, he goes as hard as he can every time. Learn from him! Work as hard as he does and you will get better. But prepare yourself, you may NEVER be as good as Johnny." Nope, we say "Hell, if we had Johnny's parents connections (money, sucking up ability, etc) you would play just as much as he does".
All in all, I think the only "Participation Trophy" that will count is the headstone I am buried under. THAT marker will be the one that shows how well I played this game called "Life". I figure if there are 10 people who stand over that marker who love me and will genuinely miss me, then I am an MVP. It won't matter what my net worth was or what place I finished in with my little league team. All that will count is the fact that those 10 people knew who I was inside and out and loved me for just those reasons alone.
Everyday people are making excuses for failing. As a society, we seem to be failing at teaching our kids and peers the value of accountability. If the kids today are told a failure is always due to "X" mitigating factor, will they ever accept the one true truth, sometimes shit just doesn't work out the way we want. Next time work harder, perform better, and you will probably have a better result.
When I was a kid, I played basketball. I wasn't a flashy player who threw out triple-doubles every game. I had a little natural ability but honestly didn't always work as hard as I was capable of. I never remember my parents going to the coach and asking why I wasn't starting or getting the same playing time as some of the others. I DO remember complaining about my lack of playing time to them early on and their response was "if you want it, work for it!". Those lessons very early in life taught me a lot. I started playing ball in 5th grade and guess what? There was a winner and a loser in EVERY game! We kept score, we learned the basic skills and we learned how to win and lose gracefully. And, at the end of the season we got a trophy. That trophy proudly proclaimed what position our team placed in the league, whether we were champions and got the BIG trophy or we finished dead last and got the itty bitty trophy. While we were recognized for playing the sport, we always knew if we wanted our picture in the paper with the big trophy we had to bust our asses and earn it.
Every week (day??) I deal with people who refuse to accept the responsibility for their actions or lack thereof. It doesn't seem to sink in that they are ultimately responsible for the result of their actions. If I send them to perform a certain task and find them hiding out in a break room, inevitably it isn't THEIR fault. It's my fault because I checked up on them, or it's their managers fault because he didn't do the job for them, or it's a co-workers fault because they just don't like them. REALLY? What happened to, 'yeah, I screwed up'? I don't get it. Really, to be perfectly honest, it's starting to completely piss me off! I work hard for my salary. I don't have the owner standing over me telling me every step to take to complete my days work. I understand that it's my responsibility to do the job I was hired for. My boss owes me nothing but a paycheck at the end of the day. If I want my paycheck to grow then by god, I know it's on my shoulders to do what is on my daily task list as well as handle any curve balls that are thrown my way, all to the best of my ability. I don't half-ass my tasks and when I screw up, it's my job to call him and say "Yup, I screwed up!" I work for what I want and understand that is how to move ahead. What ever happened to hard work = big reward lessons?
Yes, I tend to blame parenting on a lot of the younger generation's issues. We push our kids so hard to out perform everyone, but don't take the time to just let them be kids. Kids screw up. They get into trouble, they get hurt and they hurt us. That's just LIFE. When my little guy got into a fight at school, I didn't blame the administration for taking the disciplinary action they did. He was fully aware of the consequences of fighting in school before he threw the punch. Kids fight, and when they fight in school they face disciplinary action. I was proud of him for not making excuses or trying to shift the blame. It was all on him and he owned it, Period. Look back at your childhood and then look at how you are with your own kids. When you failed a test, did your mom blame it on the teacher or on you? If you got a speeding ticket, was it your fault or the cops fault for picking on you? If all we ever give our children is excuses for their actions, then that is all they will ever have, An Excuse!
Personally, I think the damn "Participation Trophy" philosophy is the root of a lot of this. Kids are taught at an early age, no matter how hard they work, they will get the same reward as everyone else. And that if they screw up, it's not really their fault because Mom and/or Dad will place the blame everywhere but on them. Little Johnny is the best player on the team, he never has to sit out or play in the outfield. Of course, parents can't say to their kid, "Johnny is the shit and plays his heart out. He never misses a practice or game, he goes as hard as he can every time. Learn from him! Work as hard as he does and you will get better. But prepare yourself, you may NEVER be as good as Johnny." Nope, we say "Hell, if we had Johnny's parents connections (money, sucking up ability, etc) you would play just as much as he does".
All in all, I think the only "Participation Trophy" that will count is the headstone I am buried under. THAT marker will be the one that shows how well I played this game called "Life". I figure if there are 10 people who stand over that marker who love me and will genuinely miss me, then I am an MVP. It won't matter what my net worth was or what place I finished in with my little league team. All that will count is the fact that those 10 people knew who I was inside and out and loved me for just those reasons alone.
Friday, February 21, 2014
Adventures in Shopping...
I am not an overly stylish person. I LIKE my Levis, athletic shorts, t-shirts and hoodies for my day to day wear. My job doesn't require me to dress up and I don't often deal w/ the public during normal working hours. Hell, some days my version of getting ready for work is as simple as putting a bra on, washing my face, brushing my teeth and pulling on a ball cap. I am just not very high maintenance. When a situation (wedding or funeral) arises that calls for me to wear a skirt or dress, I usually have to go shopping and buy something for the occasion. I will spend hours searching for that outfit that I see myself wearing in my head. Eventually, I will say screw it and grab what version of the black skirt/dress that will fit and run for my sanity. Inevitably, after wearing said outfit, it will get moved to the back of the closet and the next season will be donated to a charity for someone else to use. To say I value my comfort would be a slight understatement. BUT, with that being said, there are times when I like to spruce up a bit. To me, this involves adding a belt to my Levis, putting on a shirt that doesn't have a swoosh or beer can on it, and pulling on a pair of boots. WHAMMO, I am DRESSED UP! Ain't life great?
That was my life up until a couple months ago. I am not sure what has came over me but I am going to assume an alien invasion has either robbed me of my hormones or injected a whole shit load more of them. Fucking aliens! It seems like anymore I find myself waking up a bit earlier in the morning so I can do my hair and make up. And damnit, I now own a freaking skirt. What the HELL is going on?? Ok, I have to admit, I haven't actually worn the damn thing yet, but it is there, hanging in my closet, taunting me every single time I walk in there, the little bitch.
For some reason today I decided to stop in and look for a skirt or dress for an upcoming seminar I am going to. I walk around the first store and this overly helpful clerk promptly pounces on me asking what she can get for me. I mumble "nothing, just looking" as I glare around the store. Usually, my grumpy glare will scare folks off. Nope, not Super Clerk. I am swishing through racks, trying to find something that speaks to me or at the very least something that won't look like I am wearing a shower curtain. Super Clerk finally decides I am looking for a skirt. She starts dragging skirts in from all over the store to show me, knowing that I would just look "super cute" in this one. I continually veto her selections as I browse. Finally, she shows me a black skirt. Hmm, that's actually kinda cute. Decent length, handkerchief hemline, not too tailored but not to casual. I tell her that I like that one. She says "O-M-G" (the initials, not the whole phrase. Ugh, god save me from 20 year old bimbos) and hands me the skirt. Hold it, this is a small. In no known universe am I a small. Rarely am I a medium, most often a large. "But wait," says Super Clerk, "it has a SUPER stretchy waist......and we only have it in small". I give her the "eat shit and die" look and away she scampers. Screw it, I am done with this place. Off to the next store.
Wow, I feel like I have stepped into a time machine and flew back to the 70's and NOT in a good way. This store is very bright. There are shower curtains..er, I mean dresses everywhere. Paisley print, chiffon, flowers, and leopard print are hanging everywhere. I giggle to myself as I start my browsing. At least in this store the clerk caught the "leave me alone and let me look" body language right off the bat and just told me to holler if she could help. Smart girl! I work my way through the store, sighing, snorting and sometimes down right laughing at some of the prints/patterns. I really don't think the clerk enjoyed my ongoing nonverbal commentary and picture taking, but she still stayed back a safe distance and let me do my thing. I finally stumble upon a skirt that catches my eye: Longer skirt with a manageable slit up the leg, subtle pattern, in a normal color. I take it into the dressing room, kinda excited that maybe I found something. Ooooo, I liked it. Fit was perfect, flats, heals or boots all three would work with it, finding a top to wear would be a cinch, etc. I stepped out to look in the big 3 way mirror to get the full effect. I am twisting and turning, trying to see if my ass looks huge in this, etc. I hear a snort from beside me. The clerk asks me if I like the dress. I said, "yes, I like this SKIRT, I think it would be perfect for what I need". Again, I hear the smirk in her tone as she informs me "That isn't a skirt, it's a dress!" There is no freaking way that this is a dress. With the top of the "dress" sitting on my natural waist, the hemline just goes slightly below my knees. A dress??? At this point I really think the clerk is enjoying my utter disbelief. She goes and shows me a picture from their catalog and Yup, I'll be damned, it is a dress. I don't know how anyone over 5'2" could possibly wear this as a dress without their girl parts showing, but hey, what the hell do I know? I know that I can no longer tell a skirt from a dress and that's about it. Screw it, I am getting a milk shake and going HOME!
I have come to the conclusion that I need a personal shopper. Someone who will take me shopping in a blindfold, pick out appropriate clothing and dress me in it. I am only allowed to see what has been picked after the transaction is complete. Otherwise I will veto any and all selections because they just aren't me. Interviews start next week. Skills needed: patience, ability to color coordinate, and some light bartending skills are needed...apply in person!
Happy Frustrated Friday Folks!
That was my life up until a couple months ago. I am not sure what has came over me but I am going to assume an alien invasion has either robbed me of my hormones or injected a whole shit load more of them. Fucking aliens! It seems like anymore I find myself waking up a bit earlier in the morning so I can do my hair and make up. And damnit, I now own a freaking skirt. What the HELL is going on?? Ok, I have to admit, I haven't actually worn the damn thing yet, but it is there, hanging in my closet, taunting me every single time I walk in there, the little bitch.
For some reason today I decided to stop in and look for a skirt or dress for an upcoming seminar I am going to. I walk around the first store and this overly helpful clerk promptly pounces on me asking what she can get for me. I mumble "nothing, just looking" as I glare around the store. Usually, my grumpy glare will scare folks off. Nope, not Super Clerk. I am swishing through racks, trying to find something that speaks to me or at the very least something that won't look like I am wearing a shower curtain. Super Clerk finally decides I am looking for a skirt. She starts dragging skirts in from all over the store to show me, knowing that I would just look "super cute" in this one. I continually veto her selections as I browse. Finally, she shows me a black skirt. Hmm, that's actually kinda cute. Decent length, handkerchief hemline, not too tailored but not to casual. I tell her that I like that one. She says "O-M-G" (the initials, not the whole phrase. Ugh, god save me from 20 year old bimbos) and hands me the skirt. Hold it, this is a small. In no known universe am I a small. Rarely am I a medium, most often a large. "But wait," says Super Clerk, "it has a SUPER stretchy waist......and we only have it in small". I give her the "eat shit and die" look and away she scampers. Screw it, I am done with this place. Off to the next store.
Wow, I feel like I have stepped into a time machine and flew back to the 70's and NOT in a good way. This store is very bright. There are shower curtains..er, I mean dresses everywhere. Paisley print, chiffon, flowers, and leopard print are hanging everywhere. I giggle to myself as I start my browsing. At least in this store the clerk caught the "leave me alone and let me look" body language right off the bat and just told me to holler if she could help. Smart girl! I work my way through the store, sighing, snorting and sometimes down right laughing at some of the prints/patterns. I really don't think the clerk enjoyed my ongoing nonverbal commentary and picture taking, but she still stayed back a safe distance and let me do my thing. I finally stumble upon a skirt that catches my eye: Longer skirt with a manageable slit up the leg, subtle pattern, in a normal color. I take it into the dressing room, kinda excited that maybe I found something. Ooooo, I liked it. Fit was perfect, flats, heals or boots all three would work with it, finding a top to wear would be a cinch, etc. I stepped out to look in the big 3 way mirror to get the full effect. I am twisting and turning, trying to see if my ass looks huge in this, etc. I hear a snort from beside me. The clerk asks me if I like the dress. I said, "yes, I like this SKIRT, I think it would be perfect for what I need". Again, I hear the smirk in her tone as she informs me "That isn't a skirt, it's a dress!" There is no freaking way that this is a dress. With the top of the "dress" sitting on my natural waist, the hemline just goes slightly below my knees. A dress??? At this point I really think the clerk is enjoying my utter disbelief. She goes and shows me a picture from their catalog and Yup, I'll be damned, it is a dress. I don't know how anyone over 5'2" could possibly wear this as a dress without their girl parts showing, but hey, what the hell do I know? I know that I can no longer tell a skirt from a dress and that's about it. Screw it, I am getting a milk shake and going HOME!
I have come to the conclusion that I need a personal shopper. Someone who will take me shopping in a blindfold, pick out appropriate clothing and dress me in it. I am only allowed to see what has been picked after the transaction is complete. Otherwise I will veto any and all selections because they just aren't me. Interviews start next week. Skills needed: patience, ability to color coordinate, and some light bartending skills are needed...apply in person!
Happy Frustrated Friday Folks!
Thursday, January 16, 2014
Growing pains...
As Hubby and I quickly approach our 23rd year of wedded bliss, I am forced to look back over the years, mostly with wonder but, I will admit, also with a little bit of dismay. Is it possible that I have been married over half of my life? No matter that my age will soon be 43, most days I still feel (and admittedly act) like a 20-something. That ain't all bad though...seems like some people tend to enjoy me and my quirky/snarky/obnoxious/kind personality.
I remember, way back in the day when the kids were small, looking around at my piles of laundry, dirty dishes in the sink, floors needing cleaned, beds needing made, and basically saying "screw it". My philosophy at that time is that there will be plenty of time when my boys are bigger to worry about that shit. You know what? I must have been wise beyond my years, because that is exactly right! As hubby and I settle comfortably into what can only be referred to as middle age, my house is cleaner, admittedly due to having a cleaning lady, my laundry is usually done, dishes are clean and I rarely have a panic attack if unexpected visitors stop by. There are no longer Legos, hot wheels, video games, crackers and cookies, and all the other kid paraphernalia strung all over the house, that will inevitably be tripped over, crushed, or stepped on. This brings me to the topic of the day/week/month depending on how creative I feel.
I think every parent is guilty of saying/thinking something along the lines of "I will be glad when...". This can be finished off with several comments: ...he can finally support his own head, ...when he crawls, ...when he walks, ...when he is potty trained, ...when he starts school, ...when I am no longer a chauffer. About the time my oldest started driving is when I began to regret every single one of those thoughts. I would have gladly gone back to the day I thought each one of them and try to slow things down. I would have taken more time to really enjoy those little things that I may not have fully appreciated. Instead of grumbling about having to help with the homework, I would enjoy that one on one time. Instead of checking my watch, wondering when I would be able to get back to work or home, I would have sat there and enjoyed my child learning how to field a grounder, shoot a free throw, spank himself during the Christmas program, and so on. But, alas, you can't go back and change how you did things. I do know that Hubby and I have worked hard for 23 years to provide our kids a good home, good morals, self reliance and a strong sense of family. That's something we are both very proud of and think that we did a damn good job of.
Now as the time has flown by, Hubby and I often find ourselves alone with each other with nothing to do. We no longer have to worry about picking someone up from school or practice, running them here or there, checking math facts, or sending them to bed. This has been quite the adjustment for us..and to be honest, a whole new getting to know each other period in our lives. We have spent the last 23 years being totally focused on the kids. We were PARENTS, not Suzi and Hubby. The world revolved, as it should, around the kids, their needs, and work. There wasn't a whole lot of Suzi & Hubby time and when we did have it, all we would talk about was school, kid troubles/achievements, and work. Now, as our children make their own way more and more, we finally have the time to get to know each other once again. Thankfully, we still like each other!
I used to think that when people hit a certain age that they were "set" in their marriage. I mean really, after 10 or 15 years, what could possibly go wrong? I sure wasn't very wise in that area now was I? As Hubby and I have worked our way through these growing pains, I can more understand the divorce rate. PLEASE, don't read into this that Hubby and I are on the verge! That couldn't be further from the truth! I am just sharing some knowledge that I have acquired. People are so darn busy with work, play, etc that sometimes we forget to say and do the little things that mean so much. The very simple "thank you" that we all sometimes forget, the unexpected hug and/or kiss that happens "just because". What I have learned, as these pains have all but ceased, is to slow down, relax, and listen. Enjoy every moment as much as possible. It's amazing how much of a difference it can make when you show the same courtesy, care and compassion to your loved one as you do to the stranger on the street. Random acts of kindness should always start at home, for the people who see you at your worst.
Just my thoughts today! Wishing you all get a random hug and kiss from someone who loves you!!
I remember, way back in the day when the kids were small, looking around at my piles of laundry, dirty dishes in the sink, floors needing cleaned, beds needing made, and basically saying "screw it". My philosophy at that time is that there will be plenty of time when my boys are bigger to worry about that shit. You know what? I must have been wise beyond my years, because that is exactly right! As hubby and I settle comfortably into what can only be referred to as middle age, my house is cleaner, admittedly due to having a cleaning lady, my laundry is usually done, dishes are clean and I rarely have a panic attack if unexpected visitors stop by. There are no longer Legos, hot wheels, video games, crackers and cookies, and all the other kid paraphernalia strung all over the house, that will inevitably be tripped over, crushed, or stepped on. This brings me to the topic of the day/week/month depending on how creative I feel.
I think every parent is guilty of saying/thinking something along the lines of "I will be glad when...". This can be finished off with several comments: ...he can finally support his own head, ...when he crawls, ...when he walks, ...when he is potty trained, ...when he starts school, ...when I am no longer a chauffer. About the time my oldest started driving is when I began to regret every single one of those thoughts. I would have gladly gone back to the day I thought each one of them and try to slow things down. I would have taken more time to really enjoy those little things that I may not have fully appreciated. Instead of grumbling about having to help with the homework, I would enjoy that one on one time. Instead of checking my watch, wondering when I would be able to get back to work or home, I would have sat there and enjoyed my child learning how to field a grounder, shoot a free throw, spank himself during the Christmas program, and so on. But, alas, you can't go back and change how you did things. I do know that Hubby and I have worked hard for 23 years to provide our kids a good home, good morals, self reliance and a strong sense of family. That's something we are both very proud of and think that we did a damn good job of.
Now as the time has flown by, Hubby and I often find ourselves alone with each other with nothing to do. We no longer have to worry about picking someone up from school or practice, running them here or there, checking math facts, or sending them to bed. This has been quite the adjustment for us..and to be honest, a whole new getting to know each other period in our lives. We have spent the last 23 years being totally focused on the kids. We were PARENTS, not Suzi and Hubby. The world revolved, as it should, around the kids, their needs, and work. There wasn't a whole lot of Suzi & Hubby time and when we did have it, all we would talk about was school, kid troubles/achievements, and work. Now, as our children make their own way more and more, we finally have the time to get to know each other once again. Thankfully, we still like each other!
I used to think that when people hit a certain age that they were "set" in their marriage. I mean really, after 10 or 15 years, what could possibly go wrong? I sure wasn't very wise in that area now was I? As Hubby and I have worked our way through these growing pains, I can more understand the divorce rate. PLEASE, don't read into this that Hubby and I are on the verge! That couldn't be further from the truth! I am just sharing some knowledge that I have acquired. People are so darn busy with work, play, etc that sometimes we forget to say and do the little things that mean so much. The very simple "thank you" that we all sometimes forget, the unexpected hug and/or kiss that happens "just because". What I have learned, as these pains have all but ceased, is to slow down, relax, and listen. Enjoy every moment as much as possible. It's amazing how much of a difference it can make when you show the same courtesy, care and compassion to your loved one as you do to the stranger on the street. Random acts of kindness should always start at home, for the people who see you at your worst.
Just my thoughts today! Wishing you all get a random hug and kiss from someone who loves you!!
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