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402 days. 402 (plus or minus… mostly minus) posts.

Category: Family

March 24, 2013

Day 120: It’s Not Fun!

As promised, below are more of my youngest sister’s youthful musings from her recently discovered journal.

(Parents, even though your kids may hate journaling with a passion when they’re young, they’ll be so glad you made them do it when they’re in their twenties and thirties. The pain will be worth the later laughter. Make your kids write.)

From the mind of a nine-year-old:

1/15/97  Last week and a day was my birthday but my party was only 4 days ago. I think I got my last gift was yesterday, It was the cutest stuffed animal cat. But I wish the gifts would still keep on coming, not that I am greddy or anithing it’s just they make my room briter because my room is where the sun never shines so I at least want my room to be fun so I like my room at all.

2/13/97  It’s not fun!

3/19/97  Here I am sitting here just wating around for choir to start. I wish my mom didn’t teach conformatoin because if she didn’t teach conformatoin I wouldn’t be siting here wating at all. There go’s a bunch of preschoolers about to go outside, lucky them. But now that I think of it I don’t really want to go outside. From now on this isn’t my jornal anymore it’s my place where I keep my secrits, in other words my diary!

4/23/97  Yesterday my mom said that we could go bike riding! But since me and my sisters were fighting we couldn’t go. So everyone started blaming me for it (they say I’m a tattletale.) I told my mom what they said and she said in a loud angry voice, “That’s exatly why I didn’t let you go on the bike ride, I don’t want you to be mean.” I said, “I’m trying not to be mean,” then I started to cry. My mom said “I know you are, I only said that because I love you.” Now I feel much better.

Journal drawing

More of my sister’s birthday thoughts + a drawing of a human/rabbit with a bun. 

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March 23, 2013

Day 119: For Little V

As I alluded to on Sunday, two of my dear friends welcomed a little peanut (human) into the world this week. She’s six days old today and I get to meet her this afternoon (!). Since she probably won’t understand anything I tell her today, I’m blogging her a list for future reference.

Dear V,

Here are some things you should know:

1. Lots of people love you.

2. Your parents are super cool. There might be a time between ages 10 and 20 when you don’t think so, but you’ll come back around.

3. Your super cool parents might embarrass you sometimes. You can get back at them by telling your dad you’re a Centrist (but only say it if you don’t really mean it; he loves that).

4. You were born into a world with a lot of problems, but you’re surrounded by incredible role models. There are problem-identifiers, solution-makers, strategic thinkers, beauty-seekers, doers, fixers, connectors and all-around kindhearted people. Your world will be full of opportunities, no matter what path you choose.

5. It’s okay to fail, whether you’re building a Lego castle or a business. Everybody fails. Just pick up the pieces and try something else.

6. Your mom will know if you’re smoking pot in the bathroom or hiding cigarettes in the car. She just will.

7. You and I are going to make some dances together. I’ve already come up with a few ideas, but I welcome yours as well.

Love,

Ashleigh

PiratesYour cool/embarrassing mom and me back in 2006 when we were pirates. 

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March 22, 2013

Day 118: Kid Things

Here are two kid things I’d like to share today:

1. The kids across the street from me built an igloo on December 9, 2012. I remember, because it was the same day they went around the neighborhood looking for snow spiders (I still don’t know if those actually exist).

By “igloo,” I mean that they somehow managed to make a snow pile the size of a small bedroom and burrow a two-person cave into it. Smart. (In January, I watched them get a pizza delivered in there—extra smart.)

Over the last few months, the igloo has grown and grown, but today, it was finally warm enough for the top of it to cave in (don’t worry; no one was in there). I only know it happened because I heard a cannon of cries of, “Aw MAAAN!” when I got home from work today. Indeed, the entrance is pretty much gone. I know the kids are bummed, but the rest of the neighborhood is rejoicing at this small sign of spring.

2. My youngest sister recently unearthed the journal she kept while she was seven and eight years old. In the midst of medical school, she took the time to transcribe the whole thing (earnestly misspelled words and all) and send it to me. I’m going to post on it more thoroughly over the weekend, but here’s a little sneak peek of what’s to come:

April 14 1996 yesterday was so weird because it snowed, and right now thers not a piece of snow outside.  And we are as close as we can get to Iowa.  My favroit color is moron, I wish you could tell me your favroit color is.  When I was little I wanted to fly, but it’s inposieble to fly.

Is it? Stay tuned. More journal entries to come.

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March 14, 2013

Day 110: Sleeping Soundly

I still sleep with a stuffed animal.

He’s an adorable, well-kept and not-too-soft but not-too-firm white bear, about 12 inches long from head to toe. He has a disproportionately large head, black circles for a nose, ears and paws, and black caterpillar-shaped eyes that seem both kind and sort of absent. His legs bend forward at the hips and his arms open gently with a little pressure. The tops of his feet and nose have worn away slightly, revealing the beige knitted pattern beneath his fur.

He’s 27 and a half years old. I know, because I got him as a “we-still-love-you-but-you’re-no-longer-our-only-child” gift when my middle sister was born. She got Bun Bun around the same time—a floppy pink rabbit that barely survived toddlerhood.

My bear doesn’t have a name; just a gender. I think he made it through the tough years because I never played with him or dragged him down store aisles or up trees—I just tucked him into the triangle of my chest and upper arms each night and slept soundly.

A few days ago, my mom shared an article with my sisters and me titled A Firm Grasp on Comfort. In it, Dr. Barbara Howard, a developmental-behavioral pediatrician at Johns Hopkins, posits that as many as 25 percent of young women going off to college take their childhood comfort objects with them. At 18, I was one of those 25 percent. At 30, I’m guessing the percentage of us has dwindled significantly, especially since many of my peers are giving comfort objects to children of their own now.

Although I don’t travel with the bear (he just looks so sad when I try to squish and cram him into luggage), I’ve grown seriously accustomed to him. In Australia, I bunched a travel pillow into his general shape and snuggled it into my shoulder every night. On the occasions when I don’t have a travel pillow, I usually roll up a sweatshirt instead.

It’s unclear to me whether this is out of habit, ergonomics or nostalgia, but the fact is that I just sleep better with my arms around something.

So, I’m curious. How many of us are still out there, hugging stuffed animals and sneaking peeks at ragged silk blankets? (Blanket people—even though I am not one of you, I think we’re part of the same category here.) I’d love to read your comments if you have them.

BearThat’s him.

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February 26, 2013

Day 94: Not Solo Enterprises

There is an interesting American cultural phenomenon that makes each of us believe we should be entirely self-sustainable—our own support systems on our own islands.

I think that’s bunk.

In semi-tandem with Day 3: Seven Types, this post covers the things each of us can expect to source from our fellow human beings.

But first, there are some things we probably shouldn’t expect to get from others. On very deep and basic levels, we are each responsible for our own:

  • happiness
  • lifestyle
  • actions
  • money (how we get it and where it goes)
  • outlook (glass half-empty, glass half-full, glass with some water in it, etc.)

Beyond that (and possibly some things I missed), we need each other.

Whether from a philosophical or scientific perspective, human beings are not built as solo enterprises. Even on a microscopic level, we depend on a series of symbiotic relationships in order to survive (bacteria keep our systems flowing and we give bacteria warm and perfect homes). On a macro level, we have necessary relationships with other human beings.

But we can’t fulfill all of our needs with one person—best friend, partner or otherwise. That’s where a community system comes in handy. Between some kind of mix of parents, mentors, siblings, partners, friends, co-workers, kids, neighbors and awesome strangers, we can depend on each other for:

  • affirmation
  • humor
  • gut checks (also known as “that’s a bad idea” checks)
  • energy
  • ideas
  • touch (a hug is more important than its humble nomenclature suggests)
  • a hard push in one direction or another
  • fun
  • emotional support (for the horrible stuff and the great stuff)
  • intimacy
  • copyediting
  • advice
  • empathy
  • perspective
  • [insert a skill you don’t have here]
  • and a host of other really cool and important things

In short, we need each other.

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