A little piece of reality has crept up upon me: I am getting older. I can't stop it and I can't control it, it's just a fact. I remember when I was a teen thinking that a 40-something woman must be ancient. My God, she had one foot in the grave and the other on a banana peel! (Props to my friend Donna who is the first person I ever heard add the banana peel part.) My parents were in their 40's for Pete's sake and they knew nothing.
Well (insert screeching brakes sound) here I am now. It's funny, when I look in the mirror I swear a cute little twenty-something with big hair and maybe too much eyeliner winks back. When I see a photo of myself, however, it's a different story. Looking at the photos, I have aged. Not badly, but I have aged. This is never more apparent than when hanging with a younger crowd.
We spent our afternoon with some friends today who are a lot younger than us. We are at the same point in life; however, they married and had a family a lot earlier than we did. The husband and wife are ages 30 and 29, respectively, and their kids are 8 and 5. An incredibly nice family. We hung out at their house, watched sports, talked, the kids played. The age difference is not apparent (well, unless you LOOK at us). They are excited because their kids will be in college when they are in their 40s and they will be OUR AGE and free to do as they please. However, they make the point that they did not have the freedom of their younger years to make mistakes and enjoy life; they had kids young and married young. We had a LOT of fun in our twenties, married in our 30s and had kids when we were almost 40.
I don't know if there is an ideal time to do things in life. Different things work for different people. I would have been a crappy mother at age 25...was way too self-absorbed and immature. I am glad I had my 20's to explore, make a LOT of mistakes, make a lot of good decisions, and learn about the kind of person I was and wanted to be. I guess I feel like I am a better mother because I had the benefit of getting a lot "out of my system"as they call it. i don't feel like I am missing out on anything life has to offer; to use a well-worn and tired expression, "been there, done that."
I do think the one funny thing is...I really haven't changed all that much. The one thing that has changed, however, is that the party needs to be much earlier. For example, I still love to go out, drink a bunch, eat a bunch, but....I cannot rally and go out after that. It's one round of partying, max. And if the party starts at 3pm and ends at 9pm, all the better. Then I must go to bed. if I don't get enough sleep, i can do nothing the next day. This is a sharp contrast to the girl who could come in from partying at 3, go to work by 9, then do the whole thing again the next night. if I tried that now, I would die.
I stay out late sometimes - and I hate it. The next day I am USELESS...if I don't have 1 or 2 naps, the whole day is shot; and mind you, the whole day is shot anyway, because I have to sleep so much I can't do anything anyway.
Time is a funny thing...as we age, we become more confident, more content, and more in control of what we do with our free time. Trouble is, we're too tired to enjoy it...
Thursday, September 24, 2009
Saturday, September 12, 2009
"I Wear the Chain I Forged in Life"
My father, a fellow blogger, just wrote an excellent blog about pet peeves of his. I could write pages - volumes - about things which irritate me. The apple does not fall far from the tree. I responded to his blog with a quote from A Christmas Carol, one of my favorite books of all time: "How can I be merry when I live in a world of fools such as this?" My father retorted with another line from the classic book.
I am not sure why this book fascinates me so much. It is definitely one of my favorites, if not the best book I ever read. I read it every year at Christmas time. And I watch the 1951 version of the movie every year. I think the idea of the 3 ghosts is so clever. And I just love to read the words as they appear. They are poetic and intelligent. One must have a solid knowledge of the English language to understand the text. I know I sound like a snob, but I am not. I have read other books by Charles Dickens, even if it was under duress for school. There's something about HAVING to read a book that makes it less enjoyable. I enjoy his work, but not nearly as much as I enjoy A Christmas Carol.
I love the words he uses. I love his descriptions, and I love the fact that Scrooge is a grumpy old sot who doesn't give a hoot or holler about what anyone thinks....until he gets those visits from the Three Ghosts. I enjoy the glimpse into the life of Victorian England. (I wouldn't have lasted 10 minutes.) It seems the poor of that time, e.g. Bob Cratchit, didn't have ovens so they had to bring their roasts to the butcher or another marketplace to be cooked. We know they had a fire upon which to cook, as Mrs. Cratchit was described as being nervous about her plum pudding (she was unsure about the quantity of flour) as it steamed in the kettle. By the way I've had plum pudding and it's awful. Desserts in Victorian England were crap. (Not a quote from Dickens, by the way).
I am also intrigued with the scenes where the "laundress" and the undertaker fight over Scrooge's belongings, the ones the laundress and the housekeeper have stolen from Scrooge in death. The took the "fine shirt" off his cold, dead body ("As if calico ain't good enough for buryin") and sold it. They took down the bedcurtains "rings and all, with him lyin' there" and sold those as well. I was scared to death (no pun intended) of this part as a child, but yet found it morbidly fascinating.
I know Christmas is a ways off. But if you're looking for something to read, try A Christmas Carol. Read all the lines over and over until you get the true meaning. Realize the beauty of language and how it can convey so much. And then go have a dessert other than plum pudding.
I am not sure why this book fascinates me so much. It is definitely one of my favorites, if not the best book I ever read. I read it every year at Christmas time. And I watch the 1951 version of the movie every year. I think the idea of the 3 ghosts is so clever. And I just love to read the words as they appear. They are poetic and intelligent. One must have a solid knowledge of the English language to understand the text. I know I sound like a snob, but I am not. I have read other books by Charles Dickens, even if it was under duress for school. There's something about HAVING to read a book that makes it less enjoyable. I enjoy his work, but not nearly as much as I enjoy A Christmas Carol.
I love the words he uses. I love his descriptions, and I love the fact that Scrooge is a grumpy old sot who doesn't give a hoot or holler about what anyone thinks....until he gets those visits from the Three Ghosts. I enjoy the glimpse into the life of Victorian England. (I wouldn't have lasted 10 minutes.) It seems the poor of that time, e.g. Bob Cratchit, didn't have ovens so they had to bring their roasts to the butcher or another marketplace to be cooked. We know they had a fire upon which to cook, as Mrs. Cratchit was described as being nervous about her plum pudding (she was unsure about the quantity of flour) as it steamed in the kettle. By the way I've had plum pudding and it's awful. Desserts in Victorian England were crap. (Not a quote from Dickens, by the way).
I am also intrigued with the scenes where the "laundress" and the undertaker fight over Scrooge's belongings, the ones the laundress and the housekeeper have stolen from Scrooge in death. The took the "fine shirt" off his cold, dead body ("As if calico ain't good enough for buryin") and sold it. They took down the bedcurtains "rings and all, with him lyin' there" and sold those as well. I was scared to death (no pun intended) of this part as a child, but yet found it morbidly fascinating.
I know Christmas is a ways off. But if you're looking for something to read, try A Christmas Carol. Read all the lines over and over until you get the true meaning. Realize the beauty of language and how it can convey so much. And then go have a dessert other than plum pudding.
Monday, September 7, 2009
Watch Out CCD!
Another summer is behind us. Well, it's not really, since we'll likely get a 98-degree heat wave in Sept and Oct, and fall doesn't actually start until Sept. 21. ( think). However, the whole ritual of Labor Day signals that summer is about to come to a close and autumn will soon follow. Fall is my favorite season. I love the cool, crisp air; the ability to be outside without melting in the heat; and the days coming to a close a little earlier. I like the school schedule now. I hated it as a student and as a teacher, but as a stay-at-home Mom it rocks! Most people dread winter, but as I've said before I don't mind it at all. I definitely could do without the snow and ice, but the cold and dark don't bother me one bit.
This year, along with starting first grade, Ava will embark on a new chapter - her religious education. She is scheduled to begin CCD classes at the end of September. In preparation, I have been teaching her to pray each night, and I took her to church yesterday. I've been wanting to go more often myself, so this is a good excuse to put Mass back into our weekly schedule. I have tried as best as I can to explain God to her; I haven't even attempted any of the more complex ideas, such as the Trinity, the Resurrection, or Communion.
I don't recall how I learned any of these things. They were taught to us in Catholic school, but I remember not really understanding any of it. We were just told to believe it, and that was that. Because of all Ava's been through surgically, I have tried to break down complex ideas into terms she can understand. But I am not sure how to break down religion; I am going to wait and see what the CCD teacher does. I am apparently the Assistant Teacher, since I have to stay in the room because of Ava's trach. So I might as well make myself useful.
Of course, our church visit was a typical Laura Beeler event. Ava has been to church before, but she is getting more curious. Of course, I was running late, and here in CT the 10:30 mass starts at 10:30 and not a minute after. I waited in the back of the church until everyone sat down for the readings, and then Ava and I, along with another tardy mother and kids, scrambled to an empty pew. It's a full house at our church, which is nice. There are only 2 Sun. am masses, so it gets full. We no sooner sit down when Ava gives me the potty sign. I knew it was coming..she has her tube feed an hour earlier so I knew she had to go. She wiggled around until everyone stood for the Alleluia, and then we hurried out the back door into the hallway to use the bathroom. I timed our re-entry perfectly, while everyone was still standing for the Gospel, but I forgot where we were sitting so as everyone is sitting waiting for the homily, Ava and I are wandering about looking for our seats. "HI everyone, please stare at us!" I was cursing under my breath, and then had to say a prayer of confession for thinking swear words in Church. I finally found our seats and sat down, mortified.
Ava was quite well behaved. I brought a book for her, but she was quite content to look around and listen to the music. The likes the kneeler. She wanted to stand and jump on it, so I had to put the ki-bosh on that. She tried kneeling but then decided she's rather sit. During the Our Father Ava signed potty again. (At least she's polite enough to sign instead of loudly stating what she needs, which is her usual MO.) Again she grabbed at her crotch while I waited until Communion and made a second mad dash for the bathroom. We entered as the Communion line was dwindling and I was able to get Communion and slither back to our seats. She liked the rest of the Mass, particularly passing the basket of money.
I didn't even know my church had a bathroom until i was about 14. I was standing in the Church hallway waiting for something, and a door swung open. I peered in, thinking it was an entrance to a secret crypt, but was I surprised to discover a bathroom in there! A BATHROOM? In CHURCH? How had this escaped me all these years? I am sure my parents never told us about it as they did not want to spend the entire Mass running to the bathroom with us. We either went before we left the house or suffered through the Mass, our own private little Passion.
I told Ava we'd be going to Church more often and that we'd be going to a class to learn more about God. She looked interested, but asked few questions. All I know is it will be interesting to see what Ava does with a bunch of nuns...God help me.
This year, along with starting first grade, Ava will embark on a new chapter - her religious education. She is scheduled to begin CCD classes at the end of September. In preparation, I have been teaching her to pray each night, and I took her to church yesterday. I've been wanting to go more often myself, so this is a good excuse to put Mass back into our weekly schedule. I have tried as best as I can to explain God to her; I haven't even attempted any of the more complex ideas, such as the Trinity, the Resurrection, or Communion.
I don't recall how I learned any of these things. They were taught to us in Catholic school, but I remember not really understanding any of it. We were just told to believe it, and that was that. Because of all Ava's been through surgically, I have tried to break down complex ideas into terms she can understand. But I am not sure how to break down religion; I am going to wait and see what the CCD teacher does. I am apparently the Assistant Teacher, since I have to stay in the room because of Ava's trach. So I might as well make myself useful.
Of course, our church visit was a typical Laura Beeler event. Ava has been to church before, but she is getting more curious. Of course, I was running late, and here in CT the 10:30 mass starts at 10:30 and not a minute after. I waited in the back of the church until everyone sat down for the readings, and then Ava and I, along with another tardy mother and kids, scrambled to an empty pew. It's a full house at our church, which is nice. There are only 2 Sun. am masses, so it gets full. We no sooner sit down when Ava gives me the potty sign. I knew it was coming..she has her tube feed an hour earlier so I knew she had to go. She wiggled around until everyone stood for the Alleluia, and then we hurried out the back door into the hallway to use the bathroom. I timed our re-entry perfectly, while everyone was still standing for the Gospel, but I forgot where we were sitting so as everyone is sitting waiting for the homily, Ava and I are wandering about looking for our seats. "HI everyone, please stare at us!" I was cursing under my breath, and then had to say a prayer of confession for thinking swear words in Church. I finally found our seats and sat down, mortified.
Ava was quite well behaved. I brought a book for her, but she was quite content to look around and listen to the music. The likes the kneeler. She wanted to stand and jump on it, so I had to put the ki-bosh on that. She tried kneeling but then decided she's rather sit. During the Our Father Ava signed potty again. (At least she's polite enough to sign instead of loudly stating what she needs, which is her usual MO.) Again she grabbed at her crotch while I waited until Communion and made a second mad dash for the bathroom. We entered as the Communion line was dwindling and I was able to get Communion and slither back to our seats. She liked the rest of the Mass, particularly passing the basket of money.
I didn't even know my church had a bathroom until i was about 14. I was standing in the Church hallway waiting for something, and a door swung open. I peered in, thinking it was an entrance to a secret crypt, but was I surprised to discover a bathroom in there! A BATHROOM? In CHURCH? How had this escaped me all these years? I am sure my parents never told us about it as they did not want to spend the entire Mass running to the bathroom with us. We either went before we left the house or suffered through the Mass, our own private little Passion.
I told Ava we'd be going to Church more often and that we'd be going to a class to learn more about God. She looked interested, but asked few questions. All I know is it will be interesting to see what Ava does with a bunch of nuns...God help me.
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