Just had a really nice time with my parents when my wife was away. We asked them to visit to help me with our three children.
One of the things I enjoy most about the time I get to spend with them is the opportunity to talk with them. There was one specific conversation that is fresh in my mind and I thought I would share.
My mom had made a comment about how something was done in our house and I replied with something like children to not always do the same things their parents did...while this is no doubt a true statement, I started to wonder about the wisdom of the statement.
You see, every action we take as parents is watched. Our children model behavior and reactions after our own. This include the simple things like how to clean a dish up to complex actions like how we act when cornered in a professional environment by an aggressive co-worker.
So no, I do not do all things the same way as my mom but I need to pay attention to the her words and actions so I can learn because she has experiences I do not. The flip side is that I have experience she does not but my experiences should not prevent me from learning lessons from my mom. Further, lessons learned may actually be how not to do a thing...and I hope I recognize someday that my children do not do something I did because they have found a better way and maybe I can learn from them.
I guess the root thought here, and maybe the general lesson learned, is that we should be open minded and diligent to pay heed to the lessons of our parents...bad or good because each has value.
Sunday, July 11, 2010
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
No place like it...
Frustrated, busy, hurried, talking fast, walking fast, driving...umm, faster...yelling at the car in front of me that is not as fast.
The closer I get, the lighter the stress, the easier the drive...starting to sing to the radio...waving at the slow poke in front of me...with a smile.
Leave the car and the work day behind as I open the door after fumbling for my keys to find a small red haired girl softly..no, not softly...loudly exclaiming, "DADDY!" Then the oldest girl jumping to her feet, running into my arms chanting, "Daddy's home...daddy's home..." Followed closely by my son with a simple, "Hi Daddy."
Not to be left out the dog eases her way over to me with a wagging tail and a playful nudge with her nose.
I seek out my wife to tell her about all the dumb things that happened...then to hug and kiss her if the kids did not beat her up emotionally during the day.
Then what feels like a hundred different activities go on before dinner and for a few hours after dinner including bath on some nights or ballet or gymnastics or something else. The day begins to wind down...the kids are in bed, sometimes fighting sleep, finally giving up.
I rush down to the basement to work out, when I can motivate myself to do so...
After I drag myslef back up the steps, I sit on the warm soft couch with a cup of tea and some snack that I probably shouldn't eat...he he...winding down with a TV show or two.
Then off to bed...always the perfect end to any day. Good, bad, hard, easy, fun, boring...
It is never the building, it is those in it...it is never the structure, it is the love inside...it is never the property, it is a hug to my soul...it is home.
The closer I get, the lighter the stress, the easier the drive...starting to sing to the radio...waving at the slow poke in front of me...with a smile.
Leave the car and the work day behind as I open the door after fumbling for my keys to find a small red haired girl softly..no, not softly...loudly exclaiming, "DADDY!" Then the oldest girl jumping to her feet, running into my arms chanting, "Daddy's home...daddy's home..." Followed closely by my son with a simple, "Hi Daddy."
Not to be left out the dog eases her way over to me with a wagging tail and a playful nudge with her nose.
I seek out my wife to tell her about all the dumb things that happened...then to hug and kiss her if the kids did not beat her up emotionally during the day.
Then what feels like a hundred different activities go on before dinner and for a few hours after dinner including bath on some nights or ballet or gymnastics or something else. The day begins to wind down...the kids are in bed, sometimes fighting sleep, finally giving up.
I rush down to the basement to work out, when I can motivate myself to do so...
After I drag myslef back up the steps, I sit on the warm soft couch with a cup of tea and some snack that I probably shouldn't eat...he he...winding down with a TV show or two.
Then off to bed...always the perfect end to any day. Good, bad, hard, easy, fun, boring...
It is never the building, it is those in it...it is never the structure, it is the love inside...it is never the property, it is a hug to my soul...it is home.
Saturday, January 2, 2010
3 hours...
It takes about 3 hours for us to get home from my mom's house. In those 3 hours so many things happen that while some might think this is a long drive, at least long enough to be a challenge, it is really an opportunity to grow our marriage.
You see, the return from "up north" is usually in the dark with the 3 children sleeping or fighting sleep. It is time to talk, time to discuss all those things we have to do, we need to do, would like to do...all the stuff that troubles us, pleases us, annoys us, makes up feel any number of emotions. It is time for me to direct my attention at my wife, pausing from time to time to turn left or stop at a light. I take care to make sure I watch my speed (if I slip she is there to let me know) and pay attention to traffic. But I also use the trip to tell her things I think and feel, and she does the same.
It is a chance to just take a deep breath. I do not talk on a cell phone or listen to a GPS unit. We normally listen to a CD but only loud enough to faintly hear the words. We talk softly, sometimes we debate, sometimes we laugh, sometimes we make fun of another driver...
She knows I enjoy the time, she often gets upset with me here at home because my attention is not fully captured if the TV is on or the kids are awake or other interference is present, so I think she likes the time as well. I do not always remember the things she tells me but I try.
Visiting family is a joy but the drive...those 3 hours...priceless time to spend with my beautiful bride.
You see, the return from "up north" is usually in the dark with the 3 children sleeping or fighting sleep. It is time to talk, time to discuss all those things we have to do, we need to do, would like to do...all the stuff that troubles us, pleases us, annoys us, makes up feel any number of emotions. It is time for me to direct my attention at my wife, pausing from time to time to turn left or stop at a light. I take care to make sure I watch my speed (if I slip she is there to let me know) and pay attention to traffic. But I also use the trip to tell her things I think and feel, and she does the same.
It is a chance to just take a deep breath. I do not talk on a cell phone or listen to a GPS unit. We normally listen to a CD but only loud enough to faintly hear the words. We talk softly, sometimes we debate, sometimes we laugh, sometimes we make fun of another driver...
She knows I enjoy the time, she often gets upset with me here at home because my attention is not fully captured if the TV is on or the kids are awake or other interference is present, so I think she likes the time as well. I do not always remember the things she tells me but I try.
Visiting family is a joy but the drive...those 3 hours...priceless time to spend with my beautiful bride.
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