Universal Truths from CHILDHOOD to ADULTHOOD to OLD AGE!

As I've aged, I learned several universal truths. I ran across a few of these in past emails and wanted to share the wisdom.

Enjoy!

From the youngest to the oldest, it's often the simple pleasures that measure our success.

Childhood wisdom . . . trial and error. Sometimes, the smartest in the room are the youngest.

Families . . . middle age . . . and adulting when you'd rather be relaxing on a beach with a drink & umbrella.

And finally, with age comes WISDOM . . . or does it?

Final thoughts . . . too important to be left out: Dog Wisdom

Parents Get to Have Fun, too!

Several years past, Disney spent their advertising dollars to entice the older age group (mature visitors) back to their parks.

Scene: Daughter driving off in VW Bug, headed to college.
Voice-over: “My parents will be so sad when I’m gone. I don’t know what they’ll do.”
Scene: Mom & dad, in full Mickey Mouse regalia, riding the roller coasters at Disney World.

So, when the 19.9 million students (projected student starting figure for 2018) finally leave for college, do mom & dad mourn their leaving?

The wallet probably does. According to this year’s figures, 25.5 Billion – yep, that’s with a ‘B’ will be spent to put kids into university for the first-time, or send those returning students back to the world of academia.

Perhaps a trip to Disney would be a strain on college-shocked budgets, but there must be things Moms & Dads can do to celebrate their freedom.

By this point, you know . . .
which movie genre makes your spouse nod off;
which restaurant serves a favorite dessert;
whether the clack of pool balls or the echo of toppling bowling pins is considered ideal fun.

Plan an evening, or afternoon, that’s a shared vision of adult entertainment.
Then spend the time talking about things beyond your kids.
This is a behavior to rediscover.

Caught up in the thousand and three tasks to get your kid ready for college and the oodles of everyday ‘life’ chores, you and the spouse have more than likely neglected a simple day-away adventure.



Even though my husband is a truck driver, and long road trips can turn into a busman’s holiday, a day jaunt is always a lovely mini-pleasure for him. When possible, I talk him into the navigator’s seat on these trips. It’s a completely different world view from the passenger seat. Try switching up driver/passenger. Listen to a different genre of music. Or a favorite audio book that you’ve both wanted to enjoy.

Keep the plan simple:
What city/destination/tourist spot is two hours from your home?
What’s within an hour’s drive?
What’s within thirty short minutes from your driveway?

*Pick a destination a couple of hours away. Perhaps lunch in a small rural café. Or brunch on the porch of winery. Perhaps a hiking trail that’s best explored in the morning hours.
*Then chose another, or two, mini-stop(s) on the way back. It could be the museum on the other side of town. A gallery that’s always caught your attention, but just seems too far for a one-way visit. Maybe a tour of the local ballpark, or even an afternoon game.
*The beauty of this plan is the several stop approach.
*And if you start at the furthest distance and work back toward home, there’s no long drive at the end.
*Day trips aren’t required to serve a grand purpose.
*Don’t be afraid to pack a simple overnight bag for the two of you. Stopping at a hotel that’s just cross town can be a lovely way to spend an evening.
*This is about exploring with your spouse and enjoying adulthood beyond children.

It was several years after my first child had left for college before my husband and I perfected this art-form. It certainly helps if you have ready vacation days that can be spread out during the year. Many of our fondest ‘couple’ vacation memories have been the 4-day weekend trips. It’s long enough that the sorting & packing can be contained in a couple of suitcases. Destinations can be chosen at random. I mean, it’s only 4-days. After raising kids, you and your spouse both know how to survive four days – fun or not. Throw a dart at a map; pick one city in the state never before visited; listen to water cooler advice on the ‘coolest’ spot to ever vacation. The point is make this an easy get-away and then GET-AWAY.





Your young adult is off in walking the halls of academic greatness. At least, that’s what they’re supposed to be doing.

Parents deserve their own magical moments.

Don’t worry if Disney is a little beyond the budget.
From Date Night, to Day-Tripping, to the mini-Vacation, parents can find plenty to keep occupied.

Now, you get to be the one to tell the kiddo to make certain they clear coming home against YOUR schedule.

Reality is a part of adulthood that is inescapable.
You and your spouse have earned a bit of down time, and your own moments in the sun.
Kids in college can be ‘freeing’ for all.

Mom Fun

HELLO MOMS!!!

I found this questionnaire on FB and it sent me down memory lane.
Take the trip with me and answer the questions about your FIRST born.
Actually, I'm not picky . . . if one of your other pregnancies is more memorable, think of that one.
Feel Free to steal the questionnaire and repost. I certainly did.

1. Epidural? Yes

2. Father in the room? Yes, although what he was supposed to do remains a mystery to both of us.

3. Induced? Yes

4. Delivered in OR/Delivery Room? Or All-in-One-Labor Room? OR: and honestly, I'm so grateful that I was totally focused on 'getting that kid out' during those moments of rolling into OR. These places are scary-looking.

5. Know the sex before hand? Nope, opted for the surprise.

6. Did you deliver close to the due date? Yes, actually only a few days early. I think the DOC induced out of self-defense. I'd threatened to slid down the banister to speed things along.

7. Morning sickness? Oh, you betcha! Six weeks of the flu-like systems.

8. Cravings? Mexican food - anything spicy -- chocolate covered cherries. Yes, and sometimes together. That's why they're called cravings.

9. Pounds gained? 25 (It was those chocolate covered cherries.)

10. Sex of the baby? Girl

11. Place you gave birth? Ft Worth. I managed to deliver all (3) of my babies in the same hospital, with the same DOC, no less.

12. Hours in labor? 12 hours

13. Weight: 7lbs 13oz

14. Name: For those who know me well, you know my oldest daughter's name. For those who don't -- honestly, you don't need to.

15. Age now: 29

And I added a couple of my own:

16. First thing my husband said to the baby? 'This is your daddy speaking.' Of course, considering that he'd said those exact words to my tummy for 9 months, it's no shock that my daughter turned her head and blinked at him. He swears it was a 'wink' of acknowledgement. Maybe it was. Those two have always been thick as thieves.

17. Sweetest memory? The first moment I held her in recovery. Almost 8pm on a surreal quiet Friday evening, still the old fashioned recovery area (the open concept) except for the bleached white separating curtains. Lights low, some soothing tune on a radio at the nurse's station, and then the squeak of metal wheels across tile as a nurse wheeled over the bassinet. From the blanketed depths, she lifted this tiny mummified creature and laid her in my arms. I was no wide-eyed youngster, but I knew a moment of sheer terror. I didn't have the first clue how to peel my baby free of all the swaddling. Watching my confusion, that I'm sure mirrored hundreds before & after me, the nurse lifted edge-after-edge until there was my baby girl. In an instant, there was this perfect being, stretching out baby ivory hands with sudden freedom, yawning and blinking open light-blue eyes to owlishly stare at me. How could something so perfect be mine? I marveled. Because God is good, and blessings do happen.

*Come on Mamas! Let's hear your story! Copy and paste. Change my answers to yours.

Enjoy the trip down memory lane!

Why? Questions with no answers

Why, Why, Why?

Why do we press harder on a remote control when we know the batteries are dying?

Why do banks charge a fee on "insufficient funds" when they know there is not enough money?

Why does someone believe you when you say there are four billion stars, but check when you say the paint is wet?

Why do they use sterilized needles for death by lethal injection?

Why doesn't Tarzan have a beard?

Why does Superman stop bullets with his chest, but ducks when you throw a revolver at him?

Why do Kamikaze pilots wear helmets?

Whose idea was it to put an "S" in the word "lisp"?

If people evolved from apes, why are there still apes?

Why is it that no matter what color bubble bath you use the bubbles are always white?

Is there ever a day that mattresses are not on sale?

Why do people constantly return to the refrigerator as though it has been magically refilled? Magic is the mom, folks.



Why do people keep running over a string a dozen times with their vacuum cleaner, then reach down, pick it up, examine it, then put it down to give the vacuum one more chance?

Why is it that no plastic bag will open from the end on your first try?

How do those dead bugs get into enclosed light fixtures?

When we are in the supermarket and someone rams our ankle with a shopping cart then apologizes for doing so, why do we say, "It's all right?" Well, it isn't all right, so why don't we say, "That really hurt, why don't you watch where you're going?"

Why is it that whenever you attempt to catch something that's falling off the table you always manage to knock something else over?



In winter, why do we try to keep the house as warm as it was in summer when we complained about the heat?

How come you never hear father-in-law jokes?

The statistics on sanity is that one out of every four persons is suffering from some sort of mental illness. Think of your three best friends -- if they're okay, then it's you.


Friday Funnies - I don't have the answers to these questions. Not sure the answers exist. However, if they made you smile or even laugh, then the questions have served their Friday purpose.

Do drop by my porch again.

Procrastination is an art form . . .

How do I know? Watch a kid. They're professional stallers.

As a mom, an older mom whose kids show know better (there's the disclaimer), I've decided I shouldn't be required to answer stupid questions. After all, I got them to this age, successfully -- which means they still have all their appendages, can talk in full sentences, read full sentences, fuss with their siblings, and are intelligent enough to want a job that requires saying more than, 'Paper or plastic?'.

Stop! Don't send me hate email about how many of you worked in a supermarket. Face it. That's not a job any of US would want to repeat, nor would we want our kids stuck there.

All that said, stupid questions have been banned in my house.

Image my surprise the other day, when I was the guilty culprit of Stupid 101 and asked my kiddo why she'd procrastinated over a summer reading project until the very END of summer. She muttered around a half of dozen answers when I was suddenly hit by the figurative V8 hand and heard 'Duh!' rattle around my brain. She'd put it off because IT WAS EASIER. (Now, you understand the V8 thunk.)

Procrastination is an ART FORM because it's simply easier to put things off than do them immediately.

Does this revolutionary theory apply to kids only? If you answered, 'yes', V8 thunk yourself.

Who wants to rush into the kitchen after dinner and wash that sinkful of soaking pots and pans? Certainly not me. I've left pans soaking so long even the metal has pruned. ART FORM.

Who wants to swing into high gear and become the dusting fairy? Oh, please, if you do, email me straight away and I'll give you directions to my house. I've waited long enough to dust that my kids could use my coffee table as a chalk board (no chalk needed, just write in the dust) to figure their math problems. Not too depressing when it was simple math, but when there's enough dust for Calculus then procrastination has become an ART FORM.

If finally hit me squarely the other day when I tried to deposit a few royalty checks I'd been nesting on. My justification for bank-delay was that the checks weren't huge in monetary amount so no rush. Here's a banking tip: they really mean that whole we won't deposit a check that's more than 6 months old. And they're totally fussy about checks that were written in past years. Who knew? Oh wait, the bank said they'd supplied the answers in a pamphlet marked, 'Welcome to our bank. How to avoid extra fees, use the ATM and generally avoid doing anything stupid.' Yeah, I know I have that little treasure tucked away somewhere. I was about to read it. Really. I've only banked at this institution for twenty years -- give or take. Oops, ART FORM.

Tiny tip: the banks procrastinate, too. Deposit a check and try to get all your money at once. Ooooh no, they're waiting for funds to clear or the planets to align, whichever happens last by the way, before they'll dole out your own money. ART FORM!

All of this revelation has lead me to the conclusion that stupid questions can't be banned in my house. Inevitably, as projects follow summer, and kids procrasinate until the last minute, I'll be asking, 'Why did you wait so long?'

Psst, my kids don't know about the whole check issue. Let's just keep that on the DL (down low). It's not good for kids to know too much about their parents. It confuses them. That's my story and I sticking to it.

Happy writing every one. And if you're not writing today, 'Why did you wait so long?'

Drop by the porch again.
Until then,
~Sandra

Two days deep into school and what's happened?

My three not-so-munchkin-sized kids started to school this week. Everyone hit the academic buildings on Monday morning -- okay, the college student doesn't start until noon on Mondays. That seems so wrong in the real world, but makes perfect sense in the college environment. So this year it was two high schoolers and one collegiate preppy.

What changes when the kids hit that higher level of learning?

Did I buy fewer supplies?
The requirement is for fewer boxes of crayons, but more map pencils. The glue in the bottle stage has passed, as it's on to the all important glue stick mania. School note: there is no such thing as too many glue sticks in the house. Fewer spirals, the cheap 100 page ones are obsolete, but more of the 3 to 5 subject variety. Of course, those are never on sale -- ANY WHERE! No construction paper or Manila paper, but colored pens are a must and some must be fine point, while others are medium point and just for good measure, please throw in a Sharpie or two. Still need book covers, dividers, scads of 3 X 5 and 4 X 6 cards. Oh, and never mistake that buying only one size of note cards will suffice. Ah contra, if 3 X 5 cards are purchased, then the demand will be for 4 X 6. Same with three-ring binders and the color choice. If last year every band and choir student for the entire region was required to purchase a navy 3-ring binder, then rest assured the entire stack secreted away for a smooth school start will not be this year's color choice. The note will say black or red or fuchsia, but guaranteed it won't be the stocked color.

Did I spend less money? Are you nuts? I said two high schoolers and one college student. There is never enough money set aside! NEVER. Did I point out never?

Was the first day less stressful? No, but at this point of fifteen odd school years, we've grown so accustomed to the controlled chaos of morning insanity that it almost seems natural.

Is the school drop easier?
For the first time in many years, actually for the first time ever, I need only see my dumplings to one school building. The college student would take serious umbrage if I tried to walk her to class. So, it's one drop at the high school then I'm home again, home again, like pinky pig.

Did the house seem empty, lonely even, after they'd left? Absolutely. Some things, such as missing a child, is a constant in a parent's life. The minute my oldest moves back to college, even knowing that she loves her university and is geared for learning, I miss her. When the high schoolers were safely ensconced in their home away from home for seven daily hours for the next 178 school days, the house seemed too large, strangely silently, and definitely lonely.

As for the first two days of school . . . well, we're all still standing and that's something important. No one absolutely HATES a teacher, YET! Everyone has someone to eat lunch with, to walk the halls (campus) with, and the work load looks overwhelming as it always does at the beginning.

The best part is that they always come home at day's end -- I do need to wait for 'non-football' weekends to get my college student home, but they're here for dinner and conversation, sharing parts of their day and more importantly, parts of themselves.

My 6'5" son has dubbed me 'Mini-Mom. I'm not exactly sure when I became the smallest in my house, but short I am compared to the gentle giants that I raise. Short or not, I feel a thousand feet tall when they rush in the house to tell some terrific tidbit about their day. Some things don't change at all.