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Posts Tagged ‘children’

My Lunch with the Younger Generation

Posted in My lunch with..., tagged , , , , , , , on March 31, 2012| Leave a Comment »

I want to have lunch with the younger generation.  I want them to turn off their cell phones and not text while we’re having this lunch.  That will be the biggest challenge-to convince them that they don’t have to be connected for the hour we would spend eating together.  I worry about them.  What do they talk about?  What do they text?

The classic films are lost…the movies today are okay, don’t get me wrong.  Still, do they know that the movies of today wouldn’t be possible without the classics that came before them?  The filming of yesteryear set the tone for so many of the accomplishments made in film-making today.  I think back to Song of the South and Mary Poppins…putting people into animation.  This made Who Framed Roger Rabbit possible-putting animation into live-action.  The classic musicals created so many cultural moments.  Singin’ in the Rain, Hello Dolly, Brigadoon, On the Town.

Even classic children’s literature is falling to the wayside.  My sons have read only one American Tall Tale in school.  I make sure at home that they read a variety of Tall Tales.  We also read Aesop’s Fables, Hans Christian Andersen.  Of course, we’re still in our Grimm phase.  We read “Little Snow White” last night.  The text is full of such rich words and vibrant images.  These pieces of literature help children develop their imaginations and learn about the basics of crafting a story.

Music is different too.  I know, I know, I sound like that stereotypical old person (no, I’m not old…) “back in my day” but I’m serious.  Someone said to me recently that in a class about the history of rock he had just learned about a band called The Queen or something like that.  I said do you mean Queen?  He said, yeah, yeah, that’s the name.  Now obviously I’m biased about that particular band, but how does one get to their 20s and not know Queen?  Or the major shifts in music and how each change brought about new genres.  Why do youngins need to take a class to learn this stuff?  I suppose the radio is no longer in existence in their worlds…did “Radio Gaga” and “Video Killed the Radio Star” really come to pass?

I know there are cycles to culture.  I know the pendulum will swing back again.  I know it’s ironic that I’m posting this on the internet, one of the causes in this shift.  Why and how do they feel the need to be connected all the time?  I have survived for so long without being connected 24/7.  Yet so often I sit with people of the younger generation who cannot turn off their phone or tablet or the soon-to-be archaic laptop.  Radios don’t matter, they have 8,000 songs programmed on the teeny-tiny player.

If you are a parent, grandparent, aunt, uncle, friend of someone younger than 25, take them somewhere and make them disconnect.  Help them experience life with a person and not an electronic device.  I’m battling right now with my sons.  They are obsessed with the telly and on-demand.  They can’t get enough of the computer and online video games (based on the shows from the telly).  It’s ridiculous.  They get so angry when I say no.  So I say no more frequently.  When they don’t get angry anymore, I won’t have to say no as much.

Tomorrow night is the Earth Hour at 8:30pm.  Turn off your lights, phones, tablets, computers, any and all electronic devices and devices charged by electricity.  Talk to each other.  Laugh with each other.  Tell ghost stories.  Inspire each other.  Sing “Hello Dolly” or “Dream On” or “Radio Gaga”.  Go ahead, sing it with the clapping.  Or go for “We Will Rock You” with the clap/clap/stomp.  Go for it.  Turn off everything and be connected the old-fashioned way.

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I’m going to be an astronaut

Posted in Musings and Epiphanies, tagged , , , , on March 27, 2012| 2 Comments »

As I was tucking in youngest son this evening, he told me still was going to follow the plan he made when he was three.

“Mom, I’m going to build a rocket.  There will be the large one with the small one attached to it, you know the way they make rockets.  The large part will blast it into space to the moon.  I’ll attach a video camera to it and get a movie of the moon.  I’ll have to weight it down, so I’ll make a space to put the concrete.  Then on Monday I’ll bring the video to school and I’ll show it to my class because I can share on Mondays.  I want to study the moon.”

“So you’re going to be an astronaut?”

“Yep, I’m going to fly to the moon and study it.  You know it’s always full, there’s just a dark side.  If you look close you can see the line.  See?  It looks sort of green.”

“I see.”

“I’m gonna study the moon and be an astronaut.  Well, for one of my jobs.  I don’t know what else I’ll be.  Besides, I’d love to go to the moon.”

“Do you know that’s a great story?  Maybe that can be your next story for writing.”

“That’s a story?”

“Yes.  All you would have to do is write it down.”

“Really, that could be a story?  Could I start it with ‘I’m still going to do the plan I made when I was three’?”

“Yep.”

“I can do that.  I’m gonna fly to the moon.”

“Promise me you’ll fly home.”

Ah, my little astronaut writer.

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Truly Glorious

Posted in Musings and Epiphanies, tagged , , , , , on March 18, 2012| Leave a Comment »

On this glorious spring-like winter evening, the sounds of the insects are creeping in through the open windows.  The hum of the dryer is coming up from the downstairs.  And the most glorious sound is coming from the shark tent as I write this with only the glow of the laptop illuminating the room.  The wonderful, regular, steady breathing of my two sons.  Every few minutes a snore comes out and then it’s back to the rhythmic breathing of these two sweet souls.

I fell in love with listening to them breathe when they were first born.  What a wonderful sound.  So pure and innocent.  When they were babies, I would watch them as they fell asleep.  It never took long.  Eyes open one minute and then-poof-eyes closed and that steady breathing.  It calmed me then as it does now.  When I’m smart enough to turn off the bloody television and listen to the sounds of my life, I remember how much I love listening to the breathing of my sons.

I still love to watch them sleeping.  One of my favorite things to do!  To sit in awe of these little creatures.  I struggle to remember life before them.  I had three plus decades of life without them, but everything changed for the better since their arrival in my life.  At times, I feel so overwhelmed with the responsibility of helping shape them into the people they are destined to become.  I want to do right by them, for them.  There are so many challenges they will face and I can’t stop that.  There are so many celebrations to share with them and I love that.

Sometimes the celebration is simply them falling asleep after a fun-filled day.  And me listening to the breathing, in and out, in and out.  Imagining what they are dreaming about.  Loving them with all my heart.  Tonight is a glorious celebration.

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Scared the dickens out of me

Posted in Musings and Epiphanies, tagged , , , , on March 14, 2012| Leave a Comment »

Last night I went to church for a meeting.  The boys came with me.  They like going to church with me when I have a meeting because they get to play in the nursery.  They’re too old for nursery now so this is one of the few opportunities they get to play in there.  Well, I caught them riding in the little wagon down the ramp.  I told them to stop and go back in the nursery.  The oldest got very angry.  I went back to my meeting.

Ten minutes or so later, I realized it was really quiet out there.   I walked down the hall to the nursery to find the door open and the following note on the floor:

Well, home is 12 miles of country roads away from the church so you know I ran out of the church like a maniac and started shouting their names, my eyes wildly looking in every direction trying to figure out where they were.  Then I heard the church door open and a very scared and timid but still loud voice called out “we’re here, Mom”.

I turned and went to them, put my arms around their shoulders, walked them back into to the church and down the hall to the nursery.  I told the crying, wailing boys to stay in the nursery and play quietly.  I went back to my meeting.

15 minutes later I checked on them again.  And found the door open with a note on the floor…and my youngest playing contentedly while the oldest was crying in the bathroom.

Oh, what a night.  My oldest wept and wailed for the rest of the night.  He protected his youngest brother.  Oldest said he forced youngest into it.  I pointed out that unless he dragged his brother to the kitchen (where they hid) then his brother went on his own.   When we got home, we discussed the problem with pranks-like freaking out your mother, making her run and causing all of her boo-boos to hurt even more.  Then we went over everything that could have happened if they had really tried to walk home.  I told them that I was about to run back into the church, pull the people from my meeting and have them drive off in different directions to look for my sons while I called the police and tried to remember what each had been wearing.  I also pointed out how dangerous the roads are for two young boys to walk on-no sidewalks, not a lot of streetlights, deer.  More wailing cries from my oldest.  Even some soft cries from my youngest.  Many apologies were given.

This morning both apologized again.  I shared the adventure at work, with the notes, and we all enjoyed the story.  It wasn’t funny last night, but I have already lost the anger.  The fear lingers still…but that will fade (or not).  When I got home from work, there were sticky notes guiding me to my bedroom.  There on my bed was a mother and baby panda (we call our oldest “Panda”) with another note:

“Dear Mom,

Do not be alarmed by the note.  I just want to say I’m sorry.  I’m sorry I treat you like you’re the enimey.  I love you and you love me.  If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t be here.  (I was born).  Love, H”

It’s true.  They love me and I love them, even when they scare the dickens out of me.

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My son’s way cooler than I ever was

Posted in Musings and Epiphanies, tagged , , , , on March 6, 2012| Leave a Comment »

This evening I checked the messages on the answering machine.  The first two-unimportant, deleted.  The next one was from a young lady calling for my EIGHT-YEAR-OLD SON!  She then called back a bit later, giggling, quickly saying she called earlier.

He called her back.  I think he was slightly nervous initially as he couldn’t dial the phone properly.  I dialed it for him and then he patiently waited as it rang and rang.  He left a message for her, a very proper message, made his dad and me proud, I must say.

A few seconds later the phone rings.  I answer it and it’s the young lady.  She asks for him and soon he’s on his first phone call with a girl.  They talked for about ten minutes.  He was very considerate, quite the conversationalist.  He was laughing.  They compared siblings.  At one point, he said he would bring his fossils over (when they have their play-date).  I whispered to my hubby, “he sounds like Ross Geller.”

Oh, and so it has begun.  The first of many phone calls.  At least this one didn’t end with a break-up.  This one was easy, other than breaking my heart just a wee bit.  He’s growing up way faster than I want him to grow up.

The six-year-old asked when girls would call him.  Soon, I said.  Soon.

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Evil baby 2

Posted in Musings and Epiphanies, tagged , , , , on March 6, 2012| Leave a Comment »

By popular request, okay, one request, specifically, Cindy, here’s the evil baby photo…

This is the set up of the four baby pictures (from L-R): 6-year-old, me, hubby, eight-year-old

 

Evil baby and sweet hubby

Sweet 6-year-old

Sweet 8-year-old

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Don Quixote wasn’t so crazy

Posted in Musings and Epiphanies, tagged , , , , , on March 5, 2012| Leave a Comment »

Searching for windmills is quite possibly the normal state of existence for humans.  Each day brings a new quest.  It may be a simple quest-locating the misplaced remote control monster truck or completing a simple task at work.  Some days it may be a tougher quest-battling demons from your past that continue to haunt you.  Still, the concept is the same.  A quest for a satisfactory conclusion to a life event.  Humans, or at least this human, finds that true each day.

This repeating cycle of quests seems to have its roots in childhood.  I have vague memories of wanting to find answers to different questions over the course of my childhood and through my adolescence.  I see my sons on quests each day.  How we handle the journey defines our beings.  If we stomp our feet and pitch a fit we’ll find ourselves walking on our journey alone more often than with support.  If we aspire to a goal without doing the work we need to do to reach it, we’ll stumble, possible even fall.  The hardest quest for me is simply being in the moment and doing my best each day, in each moment.

Every day has certain menial tasks to be completed.  I can do these tasks with grace or I can do them quickly and without care.  If I do them with grace, there is joy to be found even in the simplest of tasks.  This could be changing the trash bag, doing laundry, or proofreading at work.  Filling these tasks with grace makes them more fun and reminds me that though they are redundant parts of my life, they are critical.  I need to empty the trash or my kitchen will be stinky.  I need to do laundry since none of us can walk around naked (we don’t live at a nudist colony so it’s not our norm).  I need to proofread, daily because of where I work.

These are simple quests, conquered every day.  The quests that are more fun fall into two general categories-challenges and my family.  Challenges could be a large project at work or actually getting my whole house clean at the same time (that’s my windmill!).  I have vacation time in April…could get closer to that clean house!  Other challenges include working through those issues in life that throw you for a loop.  Death.  Disease.  Major life changes that you weren’t expecting.  Things like that.

Challenges can be blended with my family too.  My sons are a wee bit older than they were last year.  They can help out with the yard this spring.  They started helping with the big clean-up last fall and with planting bulbs.  When they see they flowers this spring, I hope it offers motivation for the spring cleaning of the yard.  They’ll start to see the pay-off of hard work.  They’ll start to learn that though it may not have an immediate payoff, it’s worth the work and effort.  They need to learn that immediate gratification is not all it’s cracked up to be.  It’s a hard lesson but so important since they are growing up in this world- on-demand, high-speed internet, plentiful food, and stores that carry almost anything they could think of to buy.  Plus a mother who is often a sucker with a really big soft spot for them and falls victim to their big blue eyes, with dark lashes batting with innocence and hope.  They need to realize that anticipation, dreams, and patience are all good things to have.

Quests to lighten my loads-both emotional and physical-are wonderful.  I only hope that I conquer these quests sooner rather than later as I’d like to stop having them gnaw at my being every day of my life.  My hubby tells me not to sweat them, and I’d love to do that except it’s not in my nature at all.  I want to conquer these quests of mine.  I want to show my sons that it is important and fulfilling to complete goals that you set for yourself.

Quests are a good thing.  The more interesting the quest, the more interesting your life.

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Evil baby

Posted in Musings and Epiphanies, tagged , , , , on March 4, 2012| Leave a Comment »

I have photographs covering our living room wall.  I love the history offered in each picture.  Moments of happiness, accomplishment, and surprise that tell our family story.  One of the centerpieces is a set of shadow boxes with four pictures above them.  There is a shadow box with mementos from our wedding-picture, invitation, some dried flowers.  Then a shadow box for each of our sons contains the first jars of baby food, pictures, and the knitted homecoming cap.  I think it’s a lovely grouping of very significant events, truly the creation of our family.  Above each shadow box is a sixth-month baby photograph of the corresponding person.  Above our wedding box are my husband’s picture and my picture.  Now my sons’ pictures look so much like my hubby’s pictures.  This was intentional.  And it looks adorable.  The three of them are sitting up and in little rompers with big toothless smiles on their faces, dimples decorating their cheeks.  I’m lying on my stomach in a little smocked dress, cowlick already wreaking it’s havoc.  My one eyebrow is raised up, pulling my one eye up a little higher than the other one.

My sons told me last night that they think I look like an evil baby in this picture.  Wasn’t that sweet of them?  I have news for them.  I am evil! Wahahahahahaha!  (Maniacal laugh, maniacal laugh)  No, but if they think I look evil in that picture, wait till they get a load of my hospital newborn picture.  That looks evil.  Big ol’ pointy head, screaming with all my might.  That’s evil.

I took some time to develop my charm.  Sure, I could refer to it now as “natural charm” but truth of the matter is I am happier without a lot of people around.  I work at being jovial around groups.  I suppose I would have done well in a monastery, living a solitary life.  I love spending time with my family and close friends.  I enjoy that.  Because I can simply be me.  I can be myself.  There’s no worrying about social norms.  Social norms are over-rated in my book.

Well, the evil baby has to tuck in her sweet babies.  One of them will fall asleep cuddling his Frankenstein’s monster, mummy, and Creature from the Black Lagoon.  Perhaps that’s my influence.

 

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Grimm closure

Posted in Musings and Epiphanies, tagged , , , , , , on March 2, 2012| 4 Comments »

In tonight’s episode of Grimm, Nick came closer to some closure about his parents and aunt.  Only a bit closer to closure since we can’t cover everything in one season.  What would they do in season two if they covered it all this year?  I myself have been thinking a lot about life events.  I crave closure to certain events in my life.  I don’t like things left with loose ends.  Forgive the morbidity of the next statement, but I need to see a dead body to believe they are really gone.  It gives me closure that I need as part of my grieving process.  When that doesn’t happen, it takes longer for me to work through the whole situation.  That’s just what I need to do.

So I’ve been digging my Grimm and have been reading the Grimm stories to my boys.  They didn’t want to hear the “girly” stories.  I explained to them that the stories were originally more grim.  I went to the library at work today and got a wonderful edition of the Grimm stories.  I have to admit I did not know how many stories the Brothers Grimm had penned.  In this edition (claiming to be the complete works, but I’m too early in my research to be able to verify that claim), there are 210 stories.  Little Red Riding Hood is called Little Red Cap.  Cinderella’s step-sisters get their eyes pecked out by the birds…vicious pigeons that had not helped clean and make dresses.  Snow White is Little Snow White and the story ends with the queen wearing burning iron “shoes” and dancing till she dies.  Good times.  Good times.

As Nick has quests for closure on Grimm, I have my own quests.  One quest is to develop my sons love of fiction, hence our focus on Grimm.  I also let them read Creepshow by Uncle Stevie.  It’s a comic book, yes a creepy comic book, and they loved it. My quest for a less cluttered home, my quest for grace and simplicity.  My quest for closure on past troublesome events.  I’m a regular Don Quixote.

My sons are still so carefree.  We were discussing something one day-can’t remember what and the details don’t matter-and the next morning on the way to school, I told them that it wasn’t a topic to discuss at school.  I asked my youngest if he heard what I had said and his reply was pure and honest.  “Mom, I don’t remember what we talked about last night so I know I won’t talk about it at school.”  They don’t hold onto things, grudges, hurt feelings, and all the gobbily-gook we learn to hang onto.  I am fascinated watching them as they grow up to learn when it happens.  When do we start to hold on to emotional responses and events?  My sons already hold on to physical stuff…sadly, they are pack-rats in training.  I do try to teach them that is okay to let go of stuff sooner rather than later because you don’t really need it.

I now gauge whether or not to keep things by wondering if my sons would look at it and ask why I saved it for so many years before tossing it in a trash bag without much fanfare when cleaning out my stuff. Again, forgive the morbidity.  Lord willing, I’ve got many more years to clean out my stuff, but I want to make each day as full as possible and you can’t do that when you’re worried about saving crap.  I had a period of time when I so was obsessed with capturing the memory that I missed making memories.  I’ve gotten better at being in the moment.  But I still have years of old crap to purge.

Some of the crap is mental crap.  And you, dear gentle reader, get to read as I purge some stuff from my brains.  Let things go out into the void of the internet to finally be released from my heart, soul, or brain, whichever it’s been stored in for too many years.  This has been a week of purging things from long ago.  I didn’t plan it that way, but it worked out that way.  And I am thankful to move forward in several of my quests.  It makes the load lighter and the lighter the load, the quicker I can move.  Though it’s not really about how quickly I get through this stuff.  The stuff is the little bits and pieces that make up life.  To quote the lullaby I sing to my sons, “life is what happens to you while you’re busy making other plans”.  Take some time for life in between your plans.

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It was 1983 again

Posted in Musings and Epiphanies, tagged , , , , on March 1, 2012| Leave a Comment »

It was a surreal day because Doc Brown had come to my work with his flux capacitor and took me back to 1983.  My history teacher  from ninth grade was at the career fair today.  Of course now he is an administrator and hasn’t been in the classroom for years.  I was thrown back to the early 80s and the misery that was my life in ninth grade.

What an awful year it was.  The history class was the high point of each day.  It was an ancient civilizations course and was fun and challenging.  We studied Egypt and we went on a field trip to a natural history museum, though I don’t recall if it was in NYC or Philly.  It was a great way of escaping the stress of my life that year.  Looking back, there have been harder years, but that year still makes the top ten of hard years.

My parents had just separated and with it my whole concept of normal changed.  I think that is one of the hardest parts of divorce for children.  The normal they relied on disappears instantly and it never comes back.  The daily schedule changes-it’s now just Mom there (in most cases and specifically in my own).  While it may sound sexist and stereotypical, without the “Dad”, the house feels less safe.  This can create a new sense of fear and paranoia and for me it did.

And then suddenly it’s a big deal to see your father.  You become aware of this phrase “visitation rights” and the term “custody”.  I had never really paid attention to these words before.  Sure, I had probably heard them in a movie or television show, but because it wasn’t a part of my life, I didn’t make a connection to it.  Those words had no meaning until they directly impacted me.  Things were tense between my folks and my father became less than cheerful to be around.

My history teacher became the positive male role model in my life.  I wouldn’t go so far as to say father-figure, but I do wonder if I would have become really bitter toward men if I hadn’t been in that class.  He was nice and supportive.  I didn’t have that at home from my dad anymore so it was nice to have it come from somewhere.

School always came easily to me.  I was bright and I loved learning.  I still love learning though at times I don’t feel as bright as I did in my youth.  A year later, in tenth grade, I had become officially bored with school and was planning to drop out and take the GED instead of two more years of not being challenged.  But, in ninth grade I had a history class that was interesting and awesome.  This history teacher made it that way.

I loved learning hieroglyphics and about the culture.  The religious structure within the society, the burial rituals, the architecture and the many developments the Egyptians had made in their civilization were fascinating.  I began to get a solid sense of how old the world was and how short my life on earth would be.  This was the year when I came to understand my mortality.  Thus began my desire to contribute something of value to the world through my existence.

Many ideas of what I would contribute have come and gone with the years.  As some of them have faded, it has been an exercise in letting go of a dream, but still keeping it alive.  Dreams don’t have to die even if you aren’t pursuing them.  I searched though for some time to figure out what would be of value to others.  I had my own ideas, but many were not filled with truth or with the right purpose.  And then, boom, I figured it out.

And now I have to go tuck them into bed.

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