Remember ... A layer of dust protects the Wood beneath it. A house becomes a home when you can write 'I love you' on the furniture. I used to spend at least 8 hours every weekend making sure things were just perfect - 'in case someone came over.' Finally I realized one day that no-one came over; they were all out living life and having fun!NOW, when people visit, I don't have to explain the 'condition' of my home.
They are more interested in hearing about the things I've been doing while I was away living life and having fun.If you haven't figured this out yet, please heed this advice. Life is short. Enjoy it!Dust if you must ... But wouldn't it be better to paint a picture or write a letter, Bake cookies or a cake and lick the spoon or plant a seed, Ponder the difference between want and need?! Dust if you must, but there's not much time . . . .
With beer to drink, rivers to swim and mountains to climb, Music to hear and books to read, friends to cherish And life to lead. Dust if you must, but the world's out there with the sun in your eyes, The wind in your hair, a flutter of snow, a shower of rain. This day will not come around, again. Dust if you must, But bear in mind, old age will come and it's not kind. . . And when you go - and go you must - you, yourself will make more dust!
~ Anon
- She LOVES being outside - even in the cold. She will bring us her snowsuit, and wails if we try to bring her back inside before she's ready. She loves sliding with her big sister, walking up and down (and up and down and ...) the driveway, and playing in the snow. Yesterday she took her first rolling tumble off the sled with Mei Le, and grazed just under her nose on the crystalline snow - but Ian said that she refused to come back in the house to get it seen to ... far from the heart, thankfully!
- She LOVES footwear. She will put on whatever shoes, slippers or boots she can find by the door - even if they are my big winter shows (Ladies 10), my husband's poopy barn boots (size 13), or Mei Le's or her own winter boots. Then she clomps around the house in them. And don't even TRY to remove them!
- She LOVES her bottles. At 14 months I guess we should be thinking about trying to wean her from them, but they seem a source of great comfort, as well as good bonding time. And a bottle seems to be what it takes to get her to sleep at night. So for now, they stay.
- She LOVES the bath - and will even try to wash herself with the washcloth. She is very brave about having her hair washed, and doesn't seem to mind water running down her face.
- She is a climber, and can get herself onto the kitchen chairs, the couch, the dining room chairs - and it's only a matter of time before she's using those to get to even higher ground.
- She LOVES to dance - esp to my belly-dance music, and with Mei Le at her highland dancing class. And she's getting some cool moves!
- She has recently mastered a high-pitched shriek which truly requires that you cover your ears. Thankfully she doesn't let loose too often with it. I think the inital appeal was our cringing, plus the rather echo-y qualities of our kitchen-dining area (cathedral ceilings). It doesn't seem to be necessarily and angry shriek - more of an excited self-expression kind of thing. Yay.
- She has almost completely stopped biting - at least in anger. I have been on the receiving end of a couple of more "exploratory" type bites - which have been met with quite resounding bellows of disapproval (me) and a look of total shock on her part. Hopefully they are going the way of the dodo. She does, however, have a remarkably painful pinch!
- She is adding new words pretty regularly. In addition to those prev reported, she now also uses with good regularity: uh-oh, whee, bat (for bath). Plus her comprehension seems impressive for only having been in an English env for a couple of months. She will reliably "Go and get your boots", for example.
- She loves to shut doors: bathroom, fridge, pantry. I suspect this is a residual orphanage beh, as I saw the toddlers in the orphanage closing the cupboard doors there - I think they are trained to keep them closed, or simply pick it up from the staff.
A woman, renewing her driver's licence, was asked by the woman at Registry to state her occupation. She hesitated, uncertain how to classify herself. 'What I mean is, ' explained the woman at the Registry. 'Do you have a job or are you just a ...?' 'Of course I have a job,' snapped the woman. 'I'm a Mum.' 'We don't list 'Mum' as an occupation. 'Housewife' covers it,' said the recorder emphatically.
I forgot all about her story until one day I found myself in the same situation. The Clerk was obviously a career woman, poised, efficient, and possessed of a high sounding title like, 'Official Interrogator' or 'City Registrar.'
'What is your occupation?' she probed. What made me say it? I do not know. The words simply popped out. 'I'm a Research Associate in the field of Child Development and Human Relations.'
The clerk paused, ball-point pen frozen in midair and Looked up as though she had not heard right. I repeated the title slowly emphasizing the most significant words. Then I stared with wonder as my pronouncement was written, In bold, black ink on the official questionnaire. 'Might I ask,' said the clerk with new interest, 'just what you do in your field?'
Coolly, without any trace of fluster in my voice, I heard myself reply, 'I have a continuing program of research (what mother doesn't), in the laboratory and in the field (normally I would have said indoors and out); I'm working for my Masters (first the Lord and then the whole family), and already have four credits (all daughters). Of course, the job is one of the most demanding in the humanities (any mother care to disagree?), and I often work 14 hours a day (24 is more like it). But the job is more challenging than most run-of-the-mill careers And the rewards are more of a satisfaction rather than just money.' There was an increasing note of respect in the clerk's voice as she completed the form, stood up, and personally ushered me to the door.
As I drove into our driveway, buoyed up by my glamorous new career, I was greeted by my lab assistants -- ages 13, 7, and 3. Upstairs I could hear our new experimental model, (a 6 month old baby) in the child development program, testing out a new vocal pattern.
I felt I had scored a beat on bureaucracy! And I had gone on the official records as someone more distinguished and indispensable to mankind than 'just another Mum.'
~ Anon.
