The Polite Thing

Picture this...you saved up all your money to buy a nice fancy car you have always wanted. You love the feel of the seats, the smell of the upholstery, the way that the engine purrs. You love it so much that you take it with you everywhere, and why wouldn't you? It's your favourite car.

One day you drive it to your mom's house for a dinner party. All your mom's friends are there and they gush about how cute you look in your new car. Your mom's best friend's daughter enters the room and tells you how much she would love a car like that.

You take people out to show it to them. You rev the engine. People love how shiny it is, and they comment on how great it is for you to have gotten it. You spend almost as much time in the party as you do outside admiring your new car.

Later in the evening you notice that your mom's friend's daughter has taken your keys and is attempting to drive away. You panic and run out side to stop her. Your mom grabs your arm and says, "Why not let Jenny have a turn? You have to share."

You get visibly upset. It is YOUR car! Why do you have to share it with anyone? You yell at your mom and say no! But, instead of your mom taking your side she tells you that you are not being a very nice child and that you have to learn how to share your things.

You are outraged! You kick and scream! You are so mad at Jenny for taking your car. No one is taking your side, and worse yet you are being punished for it.

You don't understand. You are so sad.

People laugh it off and say, "Ah that is life...everyone has to learn how to share."

But do we? Would you share your car if someone asked you to? Or how about if someone just came and took it....and maybe if you would, what if it was the one thing that meant the world to you...would you then?

Think about it for a second, and then ask your self why we expect our children to share if we as adults don't....

They Grow Up So Fast

It's true you know; that old saying that kids grow up so fast. While we are in he trenches some days just seem to go on and on and on, and you can't wait until bedtime so you can get your adult time (even if that just involves a pee by yourself).

The last couple of weeks has really shown me just how quickly children do grow. My eldest is in Kindergarten. I knew that by being 5 he was in the last year of babyhood, but now watching him run happily into in the school, not paying any attention to the fact that his mom stands there looking longingly at the little boy who is quickly morphing into a bigger boy.

And yes, the fart and pooping jokes are becoming more frequent, but it's not just that. It's this responsibility and this willingness to help and to take care of his brothers. It's when he notices that something is unjust and I have to try and explain why.

It's the level of understanding that he has, but with the sensitivity of the younger boy still in there.

I really feel like he is growing too fast. That these years just whipped by. All those days spent indoors watching treehouse because I was tired or sick or pregnant or just bored. Wasted.

As I look at this littlest one who can even roll over I think of just how much a person grows in 5 years, it's phenomenal really.

And I start asking myself if I did all I could do, and if I have no regrets and if I did everything that I wanted too...and I know I didn't, and I do have regrets, but there is nothing I can do except try harder now. Get more involved now.

Ignore the stuff that doesn't matter. It only takes a second to go and look at a picture or a craft or a playroom. Get down to his level and play. I say this over and over.

Honestly I think it's because I don't like "boy" play. It's way too rough. Dragons, dino's, cars and transformers....what about house, and store and family?

I have started to put reminder notes around the house to calm down, to breathe and to take time for my kids, and time for myself...which will give more time to my kids.

In 5 more years my eldest will be 10 and in grade 5.

I want him and I to look back and say, wow. That was a great childhood.