So much of parenthood depends upon changing perspectives, positions.
Somewhere halfway through 2004 I clutched my ripe belly in the front seat of our white Jetta in standstill Seattle traffic and gasped. Can you believe those parents? Two portable DVD players on with constant cartoon stream? Imagine if they just talked to their kids instead.
Yup. I passed that judgement. Luke always reminds me as we’re on some eighteen-hour straight drive to Montana, or on an hour’s ferry ride to the mainland, or sitting in the drive way so I can take an important phone call from the porch.
As parents, we do what we do because it works most of the time. And what works for someone else may or may not work for us.
My hips have carried three babes and stand firm enough to know as soon as I say I’ll never that I’m standing in the thick of it, knee deep.
One year ago I stood above 5,000 ft in the shadows of Montana’s Beartooth Mountains and said I’d never own a trampoline.
In this week’s Today’s Mama piece entitled Bounce I wrote about afternoons never slipping by without my thankfulness for the giggles that accompany a bounce.
I love yard sales, baking pies with grandma’s apron all a-hug on hips, long flannel nightgowns and a warm mug of hot chocolate at midnight, tiny marshmallows afloat. I love station wagons from the 1950s, historic diners with a malt done right and the sound of music from my Victor Phonograph. And I totally agree each week when I hear it: I’m going to make a fabulous elderly lady.. [Click HERE to read more}.