It’s been a while since I’ve joined up with the great ladies over at Finish the Sentence Friday – but:
- I liked their prompt today – and so was thinking about it off and on all day at work
- Both kids are in bed and I’m still conscious and have SOME energy (win!)
- And I’m feeling bloggy
So I’m way late to Friday, but here we go all the same.
They give a line …. you finish it. Simple like that.
Do check out the others here:
When I was a little kid, I thought….
Hmmm. When I first thought about this. I thought of this:
Which is nice. Because I figure it gives you all some music to read the rest of the post to – if you be so inclined.
It’s an interesting line for me now, because I now have little girls (4 and 1) and my 4-year-old has started school. So I spend a lot of time thinking back to my time in school to try and partially get my head around what she’ll be in for; what I should do as a parent; what I shouldn’t; etc….
You know … nothing too heavy or anything.
Here’s what I came up with today:
When I was a little kid:
I thought someone hanging their coat on my hook in kindergarten was the end of the world. This is one of my first actual memories. Coming into the cloak room in kindergarten AND. FINDING. MY. SPACE. INVADED. Regardless of whether it was nefarious or accidental, I completely lost my shit. I even remember the teacher looking at me like I was, well, somehow overreacting (?!). She calmed me down and, well, moved the offending object to the CORRECT hook. But given she obviously wasn’t in any way my SOUL SISTER in UNDERSTANDING the importance of personal space in the never-ending quest for understanding that is life? On that day, I didn’t feel, well, … fulfilled. Upon reflection? While I now manage it better, I haven’t changed much. I like my space. My eldest daughter is, I think, similar. I will try to honour that. My youngest is, I think, nothing like that. I will try to understand and equally honour that.
I went to a birthday party at five-years-old for a friend turning six. Her mother showed us Thriller and the Dark Crystal for entertainment. I had nightmares for weeks. I’m still fully familiar with Thriller (in all its lovely adult campyness) but having just re-watched the trailer for the Dark Crystal I am again instilled with a grand WTF was that mom thinking moment?
So I will make a point of ensuring my kids watch age appropriate stuff. And even if I think my kids can take it? I won’t subject eight other children to something questionable in lieu of running a few rounds of pin the tail on the donkey or pass the parcel.
That said, I do appreciate that it can be hard to figure out what will freak kids out. My brother had nightmares after watching the Halloween episode of the Facts of Life, where they “killed” the cast. One of them died by fuzzy dice and he woke up – at around 6-years-old struggling against invisible …. you got it … fuzzy dice. My sister-in-law remains forever creeped out by the Teddy Bear’s Picnic. I figure different strokes! (sorry, I was on a bit of an 80s kick… and realize this started in ’78 – but it went well into the 80s).
I KNEW that as soon as I was old enough, I would sponsor one of those poor kids from those horrible Christian Children’s Fund ads (or similar organizations). When I grew up I was going to make the world better and those ads – from a child’s perspective – so very clearly explain the many ways the modern world fails so many of our citizens. Specifically looking back at that thought, I am ashamed to admit that I give in many ways – both of my time and financially – but I have yet to do this. I think I may do it in a year or so when my eldest daughter is old enough to partake. And I’ll let her help in the decision to help – and who to help – so we can start that bigger discussion about how we are fortunate and so many others aren’t and so we need to help those less fortunate. I know from friends, that they have gotten letters from their sponsored children – I think that – in addition to obviously helping a family in need – would be a wonderful addition to family life.
I thought my mom thought she was fat. She wasn’t. She wasn’t skinny but she was pretty typical. But I remember her always being on a diet. And I remember her being not happy about how she looked. For the record, my mom is currently very active and wonderfully confident about everything she is, but I remember the constant dieting conversation in the background of my childhood. So I’m going to commit to not contributing to that dialogue for my daughters. That’s going to be hard, because it’s an issue of constant thought – but I’m consciously going to try and think about how to discuss weight in the frame of “healthy” as opposed to “skinny”. Because they are two different things.
I thought I’d never learn how to skip. I was left-handed, and uncoordinated. Combine those two in right-hand world, and you are just always, well, a little behind in some stuff.
I’ve kind of blurred this out but my mother (frequently, God bless her) reminds me how this was a big issue. She also then (frequently, God bless her) also reminds me how hard I worked to learn how to skip and how, by Grade 5, I was the best skipper in the class.
I try to remember stories like this when my kids aren’t anywhere near meeting some milestone. The current example would be my 4-year-old’s complete disinterest in writing. This was pretty apparent from about 2 – when she showed no interest in scribbling, cutting, etc… despite repeated efforts on my part to “engage”.
As a parent, I naturally continue to encourage her, but at the same time, I remember that many things, just happen in time and with effort – and then, really, the accomplishment is all the better because of the work (in this case, on her part, not mine – although I now appreciate the level of parental effort involved as well).
I have to admit, when we skip at boot camp, I still kind of puff up. Because I know I ROCK at skipping. Others trip on the rope. I don’t. ‘Cause I spent YEARS mastering that skipcraft. And if I figured THAT out and managed to come out all “in and out and unders overs” on top in Grade school, REALLY, how hard can the rest of life be? (BTW? Fate? In case you were wondering? Totally a rhetorical question. I was in no way throwing down the gauntlet. Happy to skip happily off on my way…. Just sayin’)