I just read an article in a magazine about organizing one's life. Each month at least one of the three or four magazines I read regularly has an article dedicated to time saving. Why is that? Is there a bank, which is unknown to me, where time is stored for the future? Does one deposit seconds, minutes and hours or maybe days into an account? Will those deposits draw interest? Sign me up!
Aging has many benefits. Not the least of which is more time on your hands. The kicker is that you have fewer ways to spend it! There are no more soccer games, baseball games, carpools, bake sales, PTA, piano lessons, nor troop feedings. You can actually eat a meal in peace. Going to a grandchild's soccer game is a walk in the park since you are not the one who had to make sure the uniform was clean and the shin guards were in the bag. Now you can buy the bake sale items instead of baking them! Hooray? Not so much.
The same is true of money. Believe it or not, even though you have a little more there are fewer things that you need or want! What a bummer! Years ago I dreamed of being able to go to the grocery store, say, and buy whatever struck my fancy. Well my fancy has failed me because half the stuff I can now afford, there is no one to eat it! The grand-darlings are reaping the benefits of the aforesaid fancy, however. Ice Cream for breakfast anyone?
All young mothers should treat themselves and their families more often. Don't try to shave too much time off the everyday stuff. Instead revel in the glow of ordinary days because the sad truth is that there really is no time bank. This I know for sure!
Sunday, July 31, 2011
Newspapers and coffee....mmmmm
Today my newspaper wasn't on the steps by 7 A.M., nor was it there yesterday. I tried to be understanding, so I waited until almost 8 to call the circulation department. The department was obviously closed, so I punched all the right numbers in answer to the automated questions. The newspaper arrived 30 minutes later. OK, so what happened?
My thinking is that since newspapers are becoming obsolete, newspaper carriers are also. Gone, I suppose, are the days when boys or girls could deliver newspapers on their bikes and get paid enough to save up for a car. There still must be an anonymous person who delivers the paper; I just don't see him or her. Right?
There was a time when I was way too busy with the morning ritual of getting everyone taken care of and out the door for school, that I didn't have but a minute to scan the paper while I drank a cup of coffee. I also confess that getting myself out of bed to do all the weekday tasks was difficult. Being a life-long insomniac, caused me to over-sleep many a morning! At any rate, the newspaper went unread some days and I never gave it a thought.
Now, I can't seem to make myself stay asleep past six thirty or seven o'clock, so I look forward to the leisurely reading of the paper with my steaming mug of coffee. Here's the rub; Now that I have the time, the newspaper has been reduced to a mere shadow of its former self and reading it doesn't require much time at all. Isn't that just the way? I guess I could not renew the subscription and join the gazillions who now get all their news via the Internet, but clicking and typing isn't the same as getting your fingers all smudged-up with newsprint. Don't get me wrong; I love the Internet and my laptop, but please don't take away my newspaper!
Reading has been my salvation for many years. When I was little, my parents were frustrated with my inability to put myself to sleep. In other words, I was wound up all the time. At least that's what my mother said about me. I saw it differently. I just wasn't tired and needed to settle down before sleeping. By the time I had learned to read, weekly trips with my mother to the library were a treat. We'd check out stacks of books and I would read myself to sleep every night. By the time I was a young teenager, I was reading the newspaper every morning with my grandfather. He also introduced my to coffee, but that's another story. Books, newspapers, cereal boxes, recipes.. .. I read everything. In other words; Reading is a vital part of who I am, not just what I like to do.
So, back to the newspaper problem. Will the daily newspaper go the way of transistor radios? I for one hope not. My mornings would never be the same. Now, if I could just get the reading to burn more calories; I'd be thin.
My thinking is that since newspapers are becoming obsolete, newspaper carriers are also. Gone, I suppose, are the days when boys or girls could deliver newspapers on their bikes and get paid enough to save up for a car. There still must be an anonymous person who delivers the paper; I just don't see him or her. Right?
There was a time when I was way too busy with the morning ritual of getting everyone taken care of and out the door for school, that I didn't have but a minute to scan the paper while I drank a cup of coffee. I also confess that getting myself out of bed to do all the weekday tasks was difficult. Being a life-long insomniac, caused me to over-sleep many a morning! At any rate, the newspaper went unread some days and I never gave it a thought.
Now, I can't seem to make myself stay asleep past six thirty or seven o'clock, so I look forward to the leisurely reading of the paper with my steaming mug of coffee. Here's the rub; Now that I have the time, the newspaper has been reduced to a mere shadow of its former self and reading it doesn't require much time at all. Isn't that just the way? I guess I could not renew the subscription and join the gazillions who now get all their news via the Internet, but clicking and typing isn't the same as getting your fingers all smudged-up with newsprint. Don't get me wrong; I love the Internet and my laptop, but please don't take away my newspaper!
Reading has been my salvation for many years. When I was little, my parents were frustrated with my inability to put myself to sleep. In other words, I was wound up all the time. At least that's what my mother said about me. I saw it differently. I just wasn't tired and needed to settle down before sleeping. By the time I had learned to read, weekly trips with my mother to the library were a treat. We'd check out stacks of books and I would read myself to sleep every night. By the time I was a young teenager, I was reading the newspaper every morning with my grandfather. He also introduced my to coffee, but that's another story. Books, newspapers, cereal boxes, recipes.. .. I read everything. In other words; Reading is a vital part of who I am, not just what I like to do.
So, back to the newspaper problem. Will the daily newspaper go the way of transistor radios? I for one hope not. My mornings would never be the same. Now, if I could just get the reading to burn more calories; I'd be thin.
Monday, July 25, 2011
kids/adult kids/moms
While I wasn't looking, my children became adults. Oh they still lapse into their former childish ways sometimes, but for the most part, they are grown-ups now. They work, pay taxes and talk about adult stuff.
Did I think that this would happen? No, never. It's very hard to imagine a time when you talk with adults and realize that they are your offspring, while you are doing homework, arranging carpools, making doctor and dentist visits, kissing scuffed knees, hiding "Santa" gifts, trying to make ends meet (impossible!!), cheering at baseball games (insert any one of a million sports), and just geting through each day without pulling out your hair. How many days did I do all that? The answer is; probably a gazillion. Not once did I have a minute to slow down and think about the real future. By that I mean the one I am living in now. We moms are so busy that there just isn't a minute to stop and not only smell the roses, but actually pick some for an bouquet.
When I reflect on the me of then all I see is the harried homemaker rushing to get it all done before some mysterious deadline. I am a perfectionist to the core, so many times I wasted precious time doing all the stuff that could have waited. Actually, most of the crap that I fretted over could have waited until, well, until now!
My children really didn't give a fig that I disinfested all their toys, the kitchen counters (daily), the tubs and anything else that might have gotten in the way of their sacred health. No one noticed that I pinched pennies until you could have heard them squeak all the way to Toronto. They didn't notice that I never had a hairdressing appointment, massage, manicure nor pedicure. What did they see way back then? Did they see how much I loved them? Did they feel it? I am no martyr. Being a mom was what I wanted to be and fulfilled me in every way. I hope that they saw that then and still see it now. That will never change. 'Babies" be they two or forty-two will always be their moms' babies.
Getting to know adult children is a blessing as well as a curse. Somtimes you want to stop them from making the same mistakes you made and at other times you are asking yourself when they got so smart! Where did that come from? Did they read it in a book? Did I do that? Memories are fuzzy like that. They get sassy with me when I say something that they think interferes with their judgement. I can't help myself! Making sure that they get the best out of life and make good decisions is my job. I haven't retired, yet.
Maybe by the time I am really old (old is getting older every year), I will stop being the mom of the past. Maybe not; old habits really do die hard. In the meantime, kids, watch out! Your mother is and always will be taking care of her babies.
Did I think that this would happen? No, never. It's very hard to imagine a time when you talk with adults and realize that they are your offspring, while you are doing homework, arranging carpools, making doctor and dentist visits, kissing scuffed knees, hiding "Santa" gifts, trying to make ends meet (impossible!!), cheering at baseball games (insert any one of a million sports), and just geting through each day without pulling out your hair. How many days did I do all that? The answer is; probably a gazillion. Not once did I have a minute to slow down and think about the real future. By that I mean the one I am living in now. We moms are so busy that there just isn't a minute to stop and not only smell the roses, but actually pick some for an bouquet.
When I reflect on the me of then all I see is the harried homemaker rushing to get it all done before some mysterious deadline. I am a perfectionist to the core, so many times I wasted precious time doing all the stuff that could have waited. Actually, most of the crap that I fretted over could have waited until, well, until now!
My children really didn't give a fig that I disinfested all their toys, the kitchen counters (daily), the tubs and anything else that might have gotten in the way of their sacred health. No one noticed that I pinched pennies until you could have heard them squeak all the way to Toronto. They didn't notice that I never had a hairdressing appointment, massage, manicure nor pedicure. What did they see way back then? Did they see how much I loved them? Did they feel it? I am no martyr. Being a mom was what I wanted to be and fulfilled me in every way. I hope that they saw that then and still see it now. That will never change. 'Babies" be they two or forty-two will always be their moms' babies.
Getting to know adult children is a blessing as well as a curse. Somtimes you want to stop them from making the same mistakes you made and at other times you are asking yourself when they got so smart! Where did that come from? Did they read it in a book? Did I do that? Memories are fuzzy like that. They get sassy with me when I say something that they think interferes with their judgement. I can't help myself! Making sure that they get the best out of life and make good decisions is my job. I haven't retired, yet.
Maybe by the time I am really old (old is getting older every year), I will stop being the mom of the past. Maybe not; old habits really do die hard. In the meantime, kids, watch out! Your mother is and always will be taking care of her babies.
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