Showing posts with label kids. Show all posts
Showing posts with label kids. Show all posts

Monday, March 3, 2014

1.6.5 She got out of the car…


She got out of the car…

Slowly, watching her step to avoid the ice and puddles of slush that were omnipresent. She pulled up her hood and adjusted her scarf to guard against the biting wind. She gazed at the sky, resenting the washed out blue-grey, so pale that it almost seemed to reflect the endless snow around her.

She trudged carefully along the sheet of ice that served as a path to the low brick building in the distance. She grumbled under her breath, resenting those waiting in warm cars. She made it to the building as the bell rang and was immediately engulfed in a rushing river of children bundled in hats, scarves, gloves. Thick coats. Boots. She scanned the crowd while bouncing lightly on the balls of her feet. It was much colder standing still, in the path of the wind tearing around the building.


There! His bright blue eyes and tousled blond hair caught her eye, and she rolled her eyes as she noted that he hadn’t bothered to zip up his coat, or put on gloves or a hat. She sighed, then smiled as the boy spotter her and ran, grinning, right into her arms, already chattering away about his day at school.

1.1.4 Longings


Longings

Perhaps one of the deepest longings I have is to be a mother someday. I would love to be one now, although I know it wouldn’t be practical. Practicality be damned!

Oh who am I kidding? We all know I my never get to have my dream of a half dozen rug rats running tame through my home, making messes, creating masterpieces, pulling their sisters’ hair, laughing, shouting, screaming, joking, imagining. That’s one of the reasons I want kids, and a bunch of them. I want the noise and the wild, and the fierce love that is synonymous with family in my mind.

I desperately desire the opportunity to create a new person, and to help shape them for the world that should exist. Yes, I want to raise idealistic, kind, children for a world that is becoming increasingly hostile. I don’t know that my love, my soul mate, will allow this to happen. God must have a great sense of irony, to give me an amazing, funny, articulate man who is everything I could ever want, but who doesn’t really like kids or want to reproduce.


We talk about it, and he really believes that he can contribute nothing positive, genetically speaking, to a child. He says he will be alright with one child, but he would prefer to adopt or use a sperm donor, and while adoption is a noble thing, I can’t help but feel that he’s missing my point: I want to have a child with him. I want to come together and grow a new person who is a little like both of us, and raise him or her to be a better person than we are.

1.1.2 Overheard Concersation


Overheard Conversation

“That’s why I prefer to hire younger sitters.” “I agree! They actually play with the kids instead of setting them in front of the TV and play with their phones.” “Yeah, it’s a shame.”

This conversation took place while I was at one of Anna’s field hockey practices between two of the moms who thought that I couldn’t hear them. Yes, they were talking about me. And although I made no outward sign, I was fuming. One of them had just gotten there, 40 minutes into practice, and I had just given Tommy  my phone to play puzzle games on. In the previous 40 minutes, we read a book, practiced math, played soccer, and colored, thank you very much. And it was really the cherry on the cake when this same mom turned around and told an entire team of nine year old girls that winning was the only thing that mattered. The other mom had another child there, playing with her phone too. For the entire hour and a half practice.


And people wonder what’s wrong with kids these days. Clue: It’s the parents.

1.1.1 Observation


Observation

“Jeshica cahn oo come stahr da compooter fo me?” Tommy asked.

I sighed loudly. Without even looking I know he’s put something in his mouth. Again. I wonder what it is this time. So far this week I’ve made him spit out contraband candy, a rubber wristband, a marble, and Angry Birds toy, and a hanger. Yes, a clothes hanger, the cheap metal bent into almost unrecognizable contortions, his mouth. WHY??? Why would a six year old boy who’s never had any oral fixation suddenly start putting random nonfood items in his mouth? Is it a cry for attention, like his sister’s static cling habt? How can I get him to stop without criminalizing the action and therefore making it a more desirable pastime for a young boy? Help!