Allow me a moment.
Don't people understand that when they are in a car they are surrounded by 4 windows. You know, those things you see through. Why is it that things go on in the car, with people all around, that should only be happening in the privacy of a bathroom. Let's get it out and over with and say that any facial orifices-finger probing should not be happening as well as any pore clearing activities. Especially in bumper to bumper 4 lane highway type situations. Hey, your windows aren't that dirty!
Several years ago I would wait daily in front of a large Junior High School, with about 50 other cars parked within viewing distance, for my son to get out of school. Daily, the same woman would park, again, with the same 50 cars around her, and pluck her facial hair. For about 10-20 minutes. Every day. Every day for 10-20 minutes she would pluck facial hair. I am no mathematician but isn't that about 50 to 100 minutes a week? Every week! I can only imagine the little hairs flying around the car. Maybe she should figure out a way to donate to the follicley challenged. She seems to be a great prospect.
An older woman in our neighborhood shops on a regular basis with curlers in her hair. One day I will see her at the dry cleaners, the next the post office, three days later the grocery store. She must have an incredible night life as I have never seen her without curlers in our daily activities. The question comes to mind that if she cares enough about how she looks to put curlers in her hair then why does she go out with them on? And for what activity are they for? In my odd thought process I have decided that she dressed up for her husband each and every day at 5:15 right before he walks in the door. Maybe she really does have the right idea, of course this would be in the world I created for her.
I had a coworker who every Monday, about 15 minutes after getting to work, would then decide that his fingernails were too long and begin clipping them in his cubicle. Did they grow on the way to work? I assume he spent the weekend with them so what happened between the 72 hours he had been away from work and the 15 minutes upon arriving at work?
I was at work today and a man was talking very loudly on the phone in our lobby. I was waiting to escort a client in so stood a reasonable distance away from him as I do think myself to be a polite person. When he mentioned the 'weird porn he saw last night' and my head inadvertently turned, he gave me a dirty look, said to the person on the other end that he had to go as 'someone is listening in' Hm. Aren't I the naughty one!
I think my moment is over. Now I am guilty too- sharing my publicly private moments publicly.
Tuesday, June 22, 2010
Thursday, June 10, 2010
My Grandmothers Death..........or Life.
On Saturday, May 29th my grandmother and grandfather had just celebrated my grandfathers 92nd birthday with cake, cards and the company of my parents. As grandma was picking up the table she suffered heart failure and fell. For those of you who have read my blog before, my grandfather has advanced Alzheimers and is pretty confused on a day to day basis but made his way out to the nurses station in their care facility and let them know that Grandma fell. Grandma officially died two days later, after being declared brain dead the day before.
Although we all miss her terribly we know she had a wonderful, long, rich life. My Grandmother was someone to emulate, someone who everyone remembered as the person who always saw a silver lining in every rain cloud. Someone who, when her children complained about their children always stood up for them and reminded them that children are supposed to make mistakes so they were doing just as they should. This was a life we were to celebrate, not mourn. The part the family is mourning is my grandfather and his confusion with all that is going on.
The day she died my uncle took my grandfather to her hospital room to say goodbye, everyone wondering how much he would know and remember. He was clear and focused and very aware not only of what was going on but displayed unusual clarity about their past. He talked to her about how it was time for her to go, how much their wonderful life meant to him, how they had been married for 70 years and how much he loved her. Without any prompting he talked to the Dr.s and nurses about specific details of their shared 70 years. The man my Grandfather was was there again. It was a wonderful, magic moment.
Now, every day since her death he looks for her. Every day, several times a day, he asks someone where she is and every day he mourns her death all over again. He cries and tells us that they had a wonderful life and how he should have been first so that he could finally take care of her. He carries a picture of her in his pocket and takes it out every so often to look at it and tell whoever is around what a beautiful woman she is and how much he loves her. Then he looks on the bakc of the picture to see if anything is written about who it is. Grandpa will at times tell someone that he thinks he had a bad dream and ask someone to confirm it. Even though the family is accepting that it was my grandmothers time to go the grief comes from his grief each time he has to hear, for the first time each time, that his beloved bride of 70 years is no longer with him. In his grief and sadness he has not once lashed out at anyone, or asked 'why me', or had a mean word for anyone. He cries and talks about how wonderful she was and that he would not change one day in his life. He tells his family that his further joy will be in them living full, wonderful lives. Grandpa has been a trooper. He happily spends the night with different people, goes to family gatherings with a smile. Is generous with hugs and greets grandkids and great grandkids with a 'who is this beautiful young lady/ handsome young man' (even to me at 48). He is a love, and not just for that as he has also told me ' look how big you are now'. I could be mad but how- he looks at me as a kid.
My grandmothers quality of life had changed in the past 6 months and she was in a lot of pain and at 89 her ability to take care of my grandfather was sketchy. My mother and her brothers were having to make the tough decision, with her knowledge and protests, that her and my grandfather were going to be moving into the full time nursing care portion of their facility. She had the final say by not having to do this. I always loved that stubbornness about her. Even though the head tells you one thing the heart tells you another.
At this point my grandfathers heart is fully engaged. Due to a terrible disease his head is not so he must have his heart re broken every day. The silver lining- is there one? Of course there is- thank you Grandma- is that there is a love so deep at 92 that he only sees the good, he cries every time, and he looks at a picture of this woman he doesn't know that he knows (at age 87) and thinks she is beautiful and somewhere, somehow, KNOWS that he loves her.
Although we all miss her terribly we know she had a wonderful, long, rich life. My Grandmother was someone to emulate, someone who everyone remembered as the person who always saw a silver lining in every rain cloud. Someone who, when her children complained about their children always stood up for them and reminded them that children are supposed to make mistakes so they were doing just as they should. This was a life we were to celebrate, not mourn. The part the family is mourning is my grandfather and his confusion with all that is going on.
The day she died my uncle took my grandfather to her hospital room to say goodbye, everyone wondering how much he would know and remember. He was clear and focused and very aware not only of what was going on but displayed unusual clarity about their past. He talked to her about how it was time for her to go, how much their wonderful life meant to him, how they had been married for 70 years and how much he loved her. Without any prompting he talked to the Dr.s and nurses about specific details of their shared 70 years. The man my Grandfather was was there again. It was a wonderful, magic moment.
Now, every day since her death he looks for her. Every day, several times a day, he asks someone where she is and every day he mourns her death all over again. He cries and tells us that they had a wonderful life and how he should have been first so that he could finally take care of her. He carries a picture of her in his pocket and takes it out every so often to look at it and tell whoever is around what a beautiful woman she is and how much he loves her. Then he looks on the bakc of the picture to see if anything is written about who it is. Grandpa will at times tell someone that he thinks he had a bad dream and ask someone to confirm it. Even though the family is accepting that it was my grandmothers time to go the grief comes from his grief each time he has to hear, for the first time each time, that his beloved bride of 70 years is no longer with him. In his grief and sadness he has not once lashed out at anyone, or asked 'why me', or had a mean word for anyone. He cries and talks about how wonderful she was and that he would not change one day in his life. He tells his family that his further joy will be in them living full, wonderful lives. Grandpa has been a trooper. He happily spends the night with different people, goes to family gatherings with a smile. Is generous with hugs and greets grandkids and great grandkids with a 'who is this beautiful young lady/ handsome young man' (even to me at 48). He is a love, and not just for that as he has also told me ' look how big you are now'. I could be mad but how- he looks at me as a kid.
My grandmothers quality of life had changed in the past 6 months and she was in a lot of pain and at 89 her ability to take care of my grandfather was sketchy. My mother and her brothers were having to make the tough decision, with her knowledge and protests, that her and my grandfather were going to be moving into the full time nursing care portion of their facility. She had the final say by not having to do this. I always loved that stubbornness about her. Even though the head tells you one thing the heart tells you another.
At this point my grandfathers heart is fully engaged. Due to a terrible disease his head is not so he must have his heart re broken every day. The silver lining- is there one? Of course there is- thank you Grandma- is that there is a love so deep at 92 that he only sees the good, he cries every time, and he looks at a picture of this woman he doesn't know that he knows (at age 87) and thinks she is beautiful and somewhere, somehow, KNOWS that he loves her.
Tuesday, May 18, 2010
Hipbones
Darn. This just stinks. I thought I had it this time. I needed to lose weight again, Ok, the honest truth is more often then not I need to lose more then a few pounds. I am not one of these women who 'forget' to eat or who are 'just stuffed' after having one slice of thin crust pizza. I love food. I love good food. Forget candy and Twinkies and potato chips. I love making a cake from scratch and homemade schnitzel and anything with herbs that has to rise. So when a friend commented that she had lost 15 lbs just by taking a weight lose pill I was on board. I have done my share of diets, with success, but as I near 50 it gets harder to get the weight off and then it seems to come back on all the faster when I am not diligent. I am already a big exerciser so this was not my ticket to skinnytown. In fact I have often wondered while doing my twice weekly 4 mile run how fat I would actually be if I didn't exercise. This pill was my e-ride back to hipbones.
Hipbones. I remember those. I, unfortunately, distinctly remember a day at the beach when I was 21. I was laying on my back, covered in baby oil and happened to lift my head and look down at my toes. OMG (ok, we didn't say that 'back then' either but that is what I was thinking) I could see DOWN THE FRONT OF MY BIKINI BOTTOM! My bikini was stretched across my hipbones and my stomach was so flat- yes, actually CONCAVE- that I could see down my bottoms. I quickly looked around, especially behind me to make sure no one else was looking down the front of my bottoms too! Skinny and dumb. Those were the days!
Anyway, again I digress. My diet pill. Possible side effects sounded worse then being 30 lbs overweight. Possible accidents- might want to wear a pad, stomach pain, frequent and urgent trips to the bathroom- they suggest taking while you know you can spend a few days at home. Wow, how could you not lose weight with this going on. Kind of like having the flu and not only knowing when you are getting it but signing on. Call me desperate but... sign me up. I found a weekend when we had no plans and popped a pill with my dinner Friday night and then hung near the restroom waiting for my side effects to begin. Well, almost hoping they would as that would show this was having an effect on me. Saturday, woke up and took a pill with breakfast and worked out at home skipping my Zumba class. Nothing. Pill and lunch. Dinner and another pill. Went to bed but left the light on in the bathroom, just in case. Woke up having slept through the night. Didn't even get up to pee. Did they say something about kidney damage? Sunday came and went with no activity as well. Wait, there was NO activity. Are you kidding me- how can I lose weight if I don't even drop one kid off at the pool? I get constipated on this pill that promises such drastic bowel issues. This isn't fair! I was counting on a weekend in the bathroom. I was hoping to rent my food. A whole week goes by and I have to increase my coffee intake just be be 'normal'.
I gave it two weeks. I owed it to my hipbones.
Hipbones. I remember those. I, unfortunately, distinctly remember a day at the beach when I was 21. I was laying on my back, covered in baby oil and happened to lift my head and look down at my toes. OMG (ok, we didn't say that 'back then' either but that is what I was thinking) I could see DOWN THE FRONT OF MY BIKINI BOTTOM! My bikini was stretched across my hipbones and my stomach was so flat- yes, actually CONCAVE- that I could see down my bottoms. I quickly looked around, especially behind me to make sure no one else was looking down the front of my bottoms too! Skinny and dumb. Those were the days!
Anyway, again I digress. My diet pill. Possible side effects sounded worse then being 30 lbs overweight. Possible accidents- might want to wear a pad, stomach pain, frequent and urgent trips to the bathroom- they suggest taking while you know you can spend a few days at home. Wow, how could you not lose weight with this going on. Kind of like having the flu and not only knowing when you are getting it but signing on. Call me desperate but... sign me up. I found a weekend when we had no plans and popped a pill with my dinner Friday night and then hung near the restroom waiting for my side effects to begin. Well, almost hoping they would as that would show this was having an effect on me. Saturday, woke up and took a pill with breakfast and worked out at home skipping my Zumba class. Nothing. Pill and lunch. Dinner and another pill. Went to bed but left the light on in the bathroom, just in case. Woke up having slept through the night. Didn't even get up to pee. Did they say something about kidney damage? Sunday came and went with no activity as well. Wait, there was NO activity. Are you kidding me- how can I lose weight if I don't even drop one kid off at the pool? I get constipated on this pill that promises such drastic bowel issues. This isn't fair! I was counting on a weekend in the bathroom. I was hoping to rent my food. A whole week goes by and I have to increase my coffee intake just be be 'normal'.
I gave it two weeks. I owed it to my hipbones.
Wednesday, May 5, 2010
My mom.
I had no other choice but to be an awesome woman, my mom set the bar pretty high. The sad part is that she looks at me and at times sees what she thinks are her mistakes. I think far from this. When I was born my mom was really sick. Did not recover from my birth and the Doctors even told my Dad to pick out a coffin and to consider leaving me with the nuns as they already had a 15 month old at home. Instead, I lived my first months with my grandparents until my mom recovered and was back on her feet. This past summer, as a woman in her 60's and me in my late 40's she confided to me with tears in her eyes that she has always felt guilty about this choice and feels terrible that I don't have the connections with our immediate family like my siblings all do.
Funny how I don't see it this way. First of all, she did her best in that situation and I don't see how she had any other choice. Secondly, I needed love and attention which my grandparents gave me and were able to focus on just me. Lastly, my brother was attached to her and would have had more difficulty had he been away from her. I would have done the same thing.
What I do see are the gifts my mother gave me. My mom was a slender, active, attractive, Jackie Kennedy type young mom. Pictures of her when we were toddlers are amazing. My mom had it together even when she had 3 kids 3 and under, and then later a fourth.
Up until the time we were in junior high my mom was a stay at home mom. I remember her face watching at the door as we walked up the street to school. Shopping at the day old bread store. Mom going over our homework and grades sitting at the kitchen table with her cup of coffee. (years later I found out she didn't drink coffee she was having a coke but didn't want us to know) I remember the dresses she made for us, matching hers most of the time. Her friends coming over to play bridge in the afternoon. Letting us make homemade donuts even when lit the linoleum on fire. The way she picked up the house and applied fresh lipstick just before my Dad came home.
My mom let us be kids. We spent summers at the lake complete with every motorized land and water gizmo invented. She water skied with us into her 50's. We went tobogganing in the winter coming home to a warm fire and hot chocolate even though she was right there with us on the toboggan. We watched the Wizard of Oz with huge bowls of popcorn and malts EVERY year even though we woke up with flying monkey nightmares for weeks after. Summers were spent outside ALL day with the caveat that we had to be in the house when the street lights came on. We made lightning bug rings, clover crowns and spent evenings playing kick the can with 30 of our closest neighborhood friends. We went to church, and dressing up to go every time. Every week we went to our grandparents house, pretended to fall asleep in the car on the way home, JUST so Mom and Dad would carry us up to bed and let us sleep in our clothes
As we got older my mom went back to work. She is an intelligent, creative person who was ready to put this into play outside the home. She was a temp for a while, describing each new experience and how fun each job was. Her confidence and ability to go back to work, and in a meaningful, important position after years of being home raising her kids sent me the message that she could, and wanted to, spend time with us as our mother but could also contribute outside our home as well. When I did the same thing a few years ago I didn't realize how hard it was when she made it look so easy. I was in turmoil not knowing who I was or what I wanted after so many years of knowing exactly who I was and where I was going.
My mom had, and still has, a large group of friends and even closer handful of really good friends. Her closest friends are the same she has had since those bridge playing days from 40 years ago. She is a wonderful, caring daughter to my elderly grandparents (who are still alive) an incredible sister to my uncles, a loving grandmother to my kids and their cousins. My Dad is lucky to have her but he isn't too bad himself.
My mom has given me so many gifts and they all started with her first gift of allowing herself to heal (and live) and me to be loved by people who loved us both, my grandparents, so she could be around to do all the things that came in the years to follow. Mom, I love you and your first gift was that you loved me enough to make sure you could give of yourself for years to come.
Funny how I don't see it this way. First of all, she did her best in that situation and I don't see how she had any other choice. Secondly, I needed love and attention which my grandparents gave me and were able to focus on just me. Lastly, my brother was attached to her and would have had more difficulty had he been away from her. I would have done the same thing.
What I do see are the gifts my mother gave me. My mom was a slender, active, attractive, Jackie Kennedy type young mom. Pictures of her when we were toddlers are amazing. My mom had it together even when she had 3 kids 3 and under, and then later a fourth.
Up until the time we were in junior high my mom was a stay at home mom. I remember her face watching at the door as we walked up the street to school. Shopping at the day old bread store. Mom going over our homework and grades sitting at the kitchen table with her cup of coffee. (years later I found out she didn't drink coffee she was having a coke but didn't want us to know) I remember the dresses she made for us, matching hers most of the time. Her friends coming over to play bridge in the afternoon. Letting us make homemade donuts even when lit the linoleum on fire. The way she picked up the house and applied fresh lipstick just before my Dad came home.
My mom let us be kids. We spent summers at the lake complete with every motorized land and water gizmo invented. She water skied with us into her 50's. We went tobogganing in the winter coming home to a warm fire and hot chocolate even though she was right there with us on the toboggan. We watched the Wizard of Oz with huge bowls of popcorn and malts EVERY year even though we woke up with flying monkey nightmares for weeks after. Summers were spent outside ALL day with the caveat that we had to be in the house when the street lights came on. We made lightning bug rings, clover crowns and spent evenings playing kick the can with 30 of our closest neighborhood friends. We went to church, and dressing up to go every time. Every week we went to our grandparents house, pretended to fall asleep in the car on the way home, JUST so Mom and Dad would carry us up to bed and let us sleep in our clothes
As we got older my mom went back to work. She is an intelligent, creative person who was ready to put this into play outside the home. She was a temp for a while, describing each new experience and how fun each job was. Her confidence and ability to go back to work, and in a meaningful, important position after years of being home raising her kids sent me the message that she could, and wanted to, spend time with us as our mother but could also contribute outside our home as well. When I did the same thing a few years ago I didn't realize how hard it was when she made it look so easy. I was in turmoil not knowing who I was or what I wanted after so many years of knowing exactly who I was and where I was going.
My mom had, and still has, a large group of friends and even closer handful of really good friends. Her closest friends are the same she has had since those bridge playing days from 40 years ago. She is a wonderful, caring daughter to my elderly grandparents (who are still alive) an incredible sister to my uncles, a loving grandmother to my kids and their cousins. My Dad is lucky to have her but he isn't too bad himself.
My mom has given me so many gifts and they all started with her first gift of allowing herself to heal (and live) and me to be loved by people who loved us both, my grandparents, so she could be around to do all the things that came in the years to follow. Mom, I love you and your first gift was that you loved me enough to make sure you could give of yourself for years to come.
Sunday, April 25, 2010
Do not disconnect
My ipod is speaking to me. Like a dummy I plugged it in 'just to make sure' before my run this morning and 60 minutes later I am still looking at the flashing circle with the line through it (international 'don't' symbol) and losing my gumption to run. The first 30 minutes I looked at it, pissed at myself and then at it, and now I am beginning to see a more cosmic message involved. Is this speaking to me? Should I really be paying attention?
I have been in a funk lately. Hormones, lack of sun (yes I am solar powered) and life being overwhelming have all added to this. But now, looking at my ipod, I am wondering if the real funk has more to do with the lack of contact with my friends over the last couple of weeks. I am also friendship powered. Over the past three weeks I have had a big event I put on, and all that comes with leading up to it as well as the event and follow up after. I have had a few things going on with the kids. I have had an addition to some of my duties at work. And I am putting more time in on my job search as my contract is over in September. Wait, where is the friend piece? Have I become disconnected? My friends reinforce all that I believe I am to be. If they don't laugh am I really funny? If they don't agree with me that that person at work is a real tool then how am I to know that I am not the tool? If they aren't 'tsking' and commiserating with me when I can't believe one of my sons 'did this' or 'said that' then how do I know I am still in good mom standing? Yes, I do know all these things, and no, I do not NEED anyone to tell me that BUT and I do mean 'but' and not 'however', I value what my friends say, who they are, and any input they have. The reason I have chosen my 'fab five' is because I do value the women, mothers, wives, daughters, sisters and people they are. I love the ability to bounce things off them, even when they do say, 'Wow, Laurie, maybe you should have...'
Friendships are never hard work. Sometimes you need to make time for them and sometimes you need to think about what your friend really needs even when they aren't asking. So maybe thoughtful work, but never hard work. And you need to make sure you reach out.
Yes, my ipod is still flashing. And I believe I know the message it is sending me today.
I have been in a funk lately. Hormones, lack of sun (yes I am solar powered) and life being overwhelming have all added to this. But now, looking at my ipod, I am wondering if the real funk has more to do with the lack of contact with my friends over the last couple of weeks. I am also friendship powered. Over the past three weeks I have had a big event I put on, and all that comes with leading up to it as well as the event and follow up after. I have had a few things going on with the kids. I have had an addition to some of my duties at work. And I am putting more time in on my job search as my contract is over in September. Wait, where is the friend piece? Have I become disconnected? My friends reinforce all that I believe I am to be. If they don't laugh am I really funny? If they don't agree with me that that person at work is a real tool then how am I to know that I am not the tool? If they aren't 'tsking' and commiserating with me when I can't believe one of my sons 'did this' or 'said that' then how do I know I am still in good mom standing? Yes, I do know all these things, and no, I do not NEED anyone to tell me that BUT and I do mean 'but' and not 'however', I value what my friends say, who they are, and any input they have. The reason I have chosen my 'fab five' is because I do value the women, mothers, wives, daughters, sisters and people they are. I love the ability to bounce things off them, even when they do say, 'Wow, Laurie, maybe you should have...'
Friendships are never hard work. Sometimes you need to make time for them and sometimes you need to think about what your friend really needs even when they aren't asking. So maybe thoughtful work, but never hard work. And you need to make sure you reach out.
Yes, my ipod is still flashing. And I believe I know the message it is sending me today.
Sunday, April 11, 2010
Childhood in Iowa
I grew up in a Midwestern family that lived by the golden rule. Don't go to your mom and dad unless you were hemorrhaging or a limb was dangling from your small body. Not that my parents were mean or didn't care about us but it seemed it was a rule with all the families at the time. Feelings discussed- are you kidding? You didn't dare talk about a good grade or something special that happened - you were bragging and you did NOT discuss a bad grade or getting in trouble in school because in those days it was your fault, not the teachers, and there were consequences. Dinner time conversations only consisted of brother or sister wingmen distracting a parent long enough for someone to spit their mouthful of liver into their plastic cup of milk. the children in the house were always responsible for clearing the dishes and I was always surprised my parents didn't figure out why we so enthusiastically cleared the table on liver nights. Perhaps all that protein was immediately evident in our quicken step and enthusiastic trash emptying.
Numerous car rides consisted of my parents being so engrossed with 'adult' conversation that they were completely and utterly shocked when we would get to our location and non of us would be wearing shoes. Several car rides consisted of throwing shoes out the window and watching them bounce and the cars behind us swerve as they tried to figure out what was bouncing around towards them. We always started with the babies shoes and if a few minutes went by without my father proclaiming that he could still drive and hit us at the same time we would work our way up in the ranks. Those that couldn't talk couldn't squeal. The first time my parents just thought we all got in the car barefoot but the second time there was hell to pay but they still didn't witness the act. We lost a few dolls this way as well and although we were what you would have considered poor it was well worth the loss of a doll to see the head pop off and hit the grill of the poor car, as well as surprised occupants, behind us. Now in case you should think that we had the cleverness or naughtiness to think up this on our own, don't give us that much credit. Remember, processed sugar was a food group in the 60's and 70's, not many nutrients and therefor brain power in Lucky Charms, sugar and butter sandwiches, jello with coconut and celery, and every hostess product on earth as my mom got great deals at the day old bread store. No, our neighbors were to thank for the special idea of highway shoes. We loved to ride in their car as there was a hole in the floor of the backseat. As the months went by the hole got bigger and bigger and again, as adult conversations went on in the front seat, the kids, as long as we didn't laugh out loud, had free reign in the back seat. We dropped pennies down the hole, kept watch for road kill from the hole and eventually,as it always goes with kids, 'stupid' took over and someone was dared to stick their foot down and touch the ground. Of course it had to be a 'big' kid but not so big that the brain had developed too much. Ben, one of the car owners kids was finally cajolled into this daring, but stupid, act. He must have been about 7. Carefully and slowly he lowered his foot down, barely touched his toe to pavement only to have his foot shoot back up slam on the edge of the hole and his shoe to pop off and back down and on the road. At least neighbor dad was aware enough to hear the bouncing on the bottom of the car as the shoe ricocheted from road to undercarriage and then shoot out the back. We got a firm, 'You kids knock it off back there' Ben was just smart enough to take off his other shoe and arrive barefoot at our location. We really didn't need shoes until there was snow anyway. I think that is the real reason seat belts were invented, not a safety issue as far as a car accident goes but more so a safety practice of being able to tie the kids up in the back and therefore reduce the ability to cause trouble.
My husband and I, he a Midwesterner as well, bucked the system and used car time as talking to the kids time. After all, we had captive audiences, they were strapped in by seat belts. Thank goodness our kids were born in the late 80's, early 90's as we actually had a full decade plus of talking in the car until hand held games and cell phones came into play. Just when you get full of yourself for what you consider improved parenting kids still figure out a way to get involved in shenanigans.
Numerous car rides consisted of my parents being so engrossed with 'adult' conversation that they were completely and utterly shocked when we would get to our location and non of us would be wearing shoes. Several car rides consisted of throwing shoes out the window and watching them bounce and the cars behind us swerve as they tried to figure out what was bouncing around towards them. We always started with the babies shoes and if a few minutes went by without my father proclaiming that he could still drive and hit us at the same time we would work our way up in the ranks. Those that couldn't talk couldn't squeal. The first time my parents just thought we all got in the car barefoot but the second time there was hell to pay but they still didn't witness the act. We lost a few dolls this way as well and although we were what you would have considered poor it was well worth the loss of a doll to see the head pop off and hit the grill of the poor car, as well as surprised occupants, behind us. Now in case you should think that we had the cleverness or naughtiness to think up this on our own, don't give us that much credit. Remember, processed sugar was a food group in the 60's and 70's, not many nutrients and therefor brain power in Lucky Charms, sugar and butter sandwiches, jello with coconut and celery, and every hostess product on earth as my mom got great deals at the day old bread store. No, our neighbors were to thank for the special idea of highway shoes. We loved to ride in their car as there was a hole in the floor of the backseat. As the months went by the hole got bigger and bigger and again, as adult conversations went on in the front seat, the kids, as long as we didn't laugh out loud, had free reign in the back seat. We dropped pennies down the hole, kept watch for road kill from the hole and eventually,as it always goes with kids, 'stupid' took over and someone was dared to stick their foot down and touch the ground. Of course it had to be a 'big' kid but not so big that the brain had developed too much. Ben, one of the car owners kids was finally cajolled into this daring, but stupid, act. He must have been about 7. Carefully and slowly he lowered his foot down, barely touched his toe to pavement only to have his foot shoot back up slam on the edge of the hole and his shoe to pop off and back down and on the road. At least neighbor dad was aware enough to hear the bouncing on the bottom of the car as the shoe ricocheted from road to undercarriage and then shoot out the back. We got a firm, 'You kids knock it off back there' Ben was just smart enough to take off his other shoe and arrive barefoot at our location. We really didn't need shoes until there was snow anyway. I think that is the real reason seat belts were invented, not a safety issue as far as a car accident goes but more so a safety practice of being able to tie the kids up in the back and therefore reduce the ability to cause trouble.
My husband and I, he a Midwesterner as well, bucked the system and used car time as talking to the kids time. After all, we had captive audiences, they were strapped in by seat belts. Thank goodness our kids were born in the late 80's, early 90's as we actually had a full decade plus of talking in the car until hand held games and cell phones came into play. Just when you get full of yourself for what you consider improved parenting kids still figure out a way to get involved in shenanigans.
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