Long Days, Short Years
I read an article this week entitled "What Empty Nesters Wish Parents of Young Kids Knew". I found it very interesting. Although I no longer have children at home, it doesn't seem so long ago that I was in the throes of raising the family. Some of the advice centered around taking the time to get to know your children - to play with them, to find out who their friends were and to pay attention to the chatter in the back seat of the vehicle while you were in the driver's seat.
As I look back, I see I did many of the things on the writer's list.
Even in the early years, I was very conscious of creating memories, and being a parent who was 'present'. I didn't want to have regrets when the kids left home for not doing enough to be there for them.
I chose to be involved in my kids' lives in many ways. For several years, I was known as the "cupcake mom" because I baked cupcakes for each of their birthdays with enough to share with their class. I volunteered in their classrooms. I offered my services to their youth leaders. I was the PAC president and showed up at the Fun Fairs - spending way too much money on the silent auctions - buying back the things I donated to the auction in the first place. I pre-planned birthday parties - digging out books from the library for ideas and photocopying all the art I could so I didn't have to draw rockets or treasure chests.
I dressed everyone in the same colours for family photos. I made them individual Christmas ornaments. I deliberately invited other children over so they would learn how to play nice with others. I made late-night runs to the store to get supplies for their school projects. I painted their rooms, got them matching bedding, paid attention to the things they loved and sometimes picked up 'just because' gifts and left them on their pillows for them to find. I played games with them. I did puzzles with them. I read to them. I sang to them. I wrote them letters and notes. I even played "I Spy With My Little Eye" although it is my least favourite game IN. THE. WHOLE. WORLD.
I fussed over them, and at them. I insisted they make their beds. I taught them how to do their own laundry. I made them help out with chores. They hated it. But if they had a good attitude, I would reward us all with a run to the pizza store. I told them I was like a Mama Bear - and mama bears don't fish for their children; they teach their children how to fish for themselves.
In the summers, I instituted "education goals" and set out tasks for them to do so that they could maintain their brain power over the holidays. I made lists of things that had to be done when I was away at work so that they wouldn't spend the whole day in couch-potato mode. They still haven't forgiven me for it. [I think it only taught them to do things in a hurry so as to look as if they had been working hard all day.]
I made sure that I planned fun activities too. Sometimes I would just pack up the vehicle and take them all to the beach (usually with one or more of their friends in tow). I celebrated each of them individually, and corporately. I made each of them some sort of scrapbook for their 12th birthday. I took pictures of their school projects to document the work so that we didn't have to store them all. I bought them all new clothes for the beginning of each school year - and paid attention to the types of material they liked. I took them garage-saling and let them buy little bits of nothing.
As I finished reading the article on parenting, the only thought I had was "I did so many of those things that the writer wanted young parents to know...and yet...the time still went really fast".
I think if I would add anything to the article, I would repeat this phrase: "In parenting, the days are long, and the years are short".
As I look back, I see I did many of the things on the writer's list.
Even in the early years, I was very conscious of creating memories, and being a parent who was 'present'. I didn't want to have regrets when the kids left home for not doing enough to be there for them.
I chose to be involved in my kids' lives in many ways. For several years, I was known as the "cupcake mom" because I baked cupcakes for each of their birthdays with enough to share with their class. I volunteered in their classrooms. I offered my services to their youth leaders. I was the PAC president and showed up at the Fun Fairs - spending way too much money on the silent auctions - buying back the things I donated to the auction in the first place. I pre-planned birthday parties - digging out books from the library for ideas and photocopying all the art I could so I didn't have to draw rockets or treasure chests.
I dressed everyone in the same colours for family photos. I made them individual Christmas ornaments. I deliberately invited other children over so they would learn how to play nice with others. I made late-night runs to the store to get supplies for their school projects. I painted their rooms, got them matching bedding, paid attention to the things they loved and sometimes picked up 'just because' gifts and left them on their pillows for them to find. I played games with them. I did puzzles with them. I read to them. I sang to them. I wrote them letters and notes. I even played "I Spy With My Little Eye" although it is my least favourite game IN. THE. WHOLE. WORLD.
I fussed over them, and at them. I insisted they make their beds. I taught them how to do their own laundry. I made them help out with chores. They hated it. But if they had a good attitude, I would reward us all with a run to the pizza store. I told them I was like a Mama Bear - and mama bears don't fish for their children; they teach their children how to fish for themselves.
In the summers, I instituted "education goals" and set out tasks for them to do so that they could maintain their brain power over the holidays. I made lists of things that had to be done when I was away at work so that they wouldn't spend the whole day in couch-potato mode. They still haven't forgiven me for it. [I think it only taught them to do things in a hurry so as to look as if they had been working hard all day.]
I made sure that I planned fun activities too. Sometimes I would just pack up the vehicle and take them all to the beach (usually with one or more of their friends in tow). I celebrated each of them individually, and corporately. I made each of them some sort of scrapbook for their 12th birthday. I took pictures of their school projects to document the work so that we didn't have to store them all. I bought them all new clothes for the beginning of each school year - and paid attention to the types of material they liked. I took them garage-saling and let them buy little bits of nothing.
As I finished reading the article on parenting, the only thought I had was "I did so many of those things that the writer wanted young parents to know...and yet...the time still went really fast".
I think if I would add anything to the article, I would repeat this phrase: "In parenting, the days are long, and the years are short".
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