Last I heard Bear was aiming for professional basketball player or a brain surgeon when it comes to life goals. Basketball. Or surgery.
After I was fully supportive of my daughter’s ambitions I tactfully slipped in that she might want to consider becoming a lawyer. What with her proclivity of arguing things into the ground and all.
I’m having a wee bit of trouble wrapping my brain around the fact that Bear turns eleven today.
If you’ll bear with me for one moment, I’ve gotta do a bit of shameless mama bragging on these kids o’ mine.
These babes are the bomb diggity. They’re smart, funny, talented, and beautiful by any measure. When they’re unhappy it’s palpable. When they’re happy, joy radiates from them like warmth from the sun.
I talk often about loving the lake. Most of my accolades are about the water, the birds, the peaceful environment and how centered I feel when I’m there. All perfectly valid reasons to head that way often.
But I realized I haven’t written much about why the kids love the lake.
Sure, some might say we grew up roughing it by today’s standards…but maybe we were the ones who actually gained in the end. Is it possible, as the author says, that “we just don’t have the cojones our parents had”?
“If you haven’t noticed, we’re getting a raw deal where this parenting gig is concerned. When did adults start caring whether or not their kids were safe, happy or popular? I can assure you that Ginny and Big Jerry were not wiling away the hours wondering if my brother and I were fulfilled.
Big Jerry was stoking the fires of his retirement savings and working, and working some more. Ginny was double bolting the door in order to keep us out of the house, and talking on the phone while she smoked a Kent. Meanwhile, we were three neighborhoods away, playing with some kids we’d never met, and we had crossed two major highways on bicycles with semi-flat tires to get there. Odds are, one of us had crashed at some point and was bleeding pretty impressively. No one cared. We were kids and if we weren’t acting as free labor, we were supposed to be out of the house and out of the way.”
Are Today’s Parents Getting a Raw Deal? | The Huffington Post
We’ve got spirit
yes we do,
we’ve got spirit
how ’bout you?
Oh, these long, long days of elementary school…reading logs and flash cards. Homework folders, #2 pencils, and letter grades. Field days and cafeteria drama. Good times.
After enrolling as runny nosed midgets who can’t walk in a line, kids slowly adapt to school culture. They learn to take turns in the bathroom and use up all the paper towels. They figure out which kickballs are the good ones and how to get an extra turn on the tire swing at recess. They even gain an appreciation for certain cafeteria foods.
By the time kids move on to middle school they’ve morphed into nearly functioning humans.
Let’s get this out of the way right up front: I’m a big believer in herd immunity. Really big. Huge. A shout it from the mountaintops, hire a skywriter, put it on Broadway kind of believer.
I guess you could say I’m a fan.