Mothers and Children…this is a post for Father’s Day

Posted on by SusieQ

A few days ago I was looking through a box of old mementoes and found something that I had forgotten about. It was a column written by Erma Bombeck for Mother’s Day in 1987. There was no date on the newspaper clipping, so how did I know exactly when it was published? I found it in an envelope filled with condolence cards and birthday cards. You see, my dear mother Edith died two days before Mother’s Day of that year, and she was buried on my birthday, two days later. May is hard for me because of that sad day, and because my son also died in May, and was buried on his grandmother’s birthday.

Erma Bombeck was a wonderful writer who wrote humorous life-affirming prose. She had a nationwide column, and wrote several books, mostly about the absurdity of life. This column could have been written in the present day, and it also applies to the fathers out there. It was true then and it is true now. I want to preserve every word, so I now present it to you, my friends.

THE MAKING OF A MOTHER

“This column is not about mothers or the day set aside for them. It is about the children who bestowed the title on them.

I’ve been writing about these little people for more than 20 years, and for the first time I’m frightened for them.

I’m concerned for the children being exploited, molested, battered, abandoned, and fingerprinted. The faces of those who have been snatched from their homes are circulated on milk cartons. Some have been outfitted with beepers and monitored and tracked like an endangered species. Others have entered the world shaking and screaming from the pain of a mother’s addiction. They have been passed back and forth in courts like a summons.

With name tags they travel on airlines between parents, some with more advantage miles than the Pope. They work microwave ovens and VCRs and watch more TV than a critic. They walk around in children’s bodies that house adult decisions and responsibilities for younger siblings. They deserve better.

It’s time potential parents realized children are not a youthful mistake…an indiscretion…a hobby…a religious duty…a custodial trophy…an ego trip…an acquisition…or a race to be won against a biological clock. They’re human beings who carry with them monumental responsibilities.

Parenting is like the domestic Peace Corps. The hours are long. The work is hard. The pay is zip.

Babies smell. They throw up. They cry when you’re asleep, and sleep when you’re awake. They get sick and can’t tell you what is wrong. They are totally dependent upon you for food, housing, and care. They screw up. They lie. They drive you crazy. They put tension in a home and a marriage. They are capable of testing your endurance to the limits and ripping a path through your emotions like a tornado. If you punish them and tell them they are the worst thing that ever happened to you, two seconds later they will still grab you around your knees for comfort, because you’re all they’ve got.

What do you get for taking on the most awesome job in the world? Burnt toast crumbs in bed today. A bunch of flowers from your own yard. Maybe a phone call. A bond of love I cannot begin to describe.

Someone said our civilization is judged on how we treat our children and our elderly–two vulnerable groups who are at the mercy of those who are charged to take care of them.

Do we listen to them? Take care of them? Preserve their dignity? Give and ask nothing in return? Protect their rights?

Giving birth is little more than a set of muscular contractions granting passage of a child from the uterus.

Then, the mother is born.”

See you soon,

Susan

Three goats on a Corvette…

Posted on by SusieQ

“Corvettes are as good as a mountain when the latter is in short supply.”

Our last twenty plus years in Ohio were spent on flat farm land where there were fields of corn and soy beans as far as the eye could see with nary a hill in sight. Our hills were clouds, and buildings, and once in a while a Corvette. One day I was driving by a house that I passed every time I went to town. I happened to glance over to the driveway where, to my surprise, there were three goats on top of someone’s Corvette, which I assumed was the homeowner’s. The goats looked quite comfortable and I don’t think it was the first time it had happened. On my way back from the errand I was running, I stopped beside the house and saw a sign by the driveway that had the above quote written on it. You have to love a goat owner with a sense of humor, and who was also a philosopher, obviously. I wrote the saying down on a piece of paper that I have kept in a notebook. I just ran across it the other day, and I remembered the many times I have regretted that I didn’t knock on that person’s door and have a conversation with them. Who knows? We might have become friends. I have a quirky sense of humor sometimes, and I have a feeling we would have gotten along very well.

My newest venue for learning peoples’ stories is the dog park where I take Henry (the Lab) and Tui (the half-Lab, half careless love). Something about me seems to invite storytelling from the people I meet, and I don’t mind sharing some of my story with them as well. Most often the stories are centered around the dogs. Where we got them (lots of rescues, including mine) and what breeds they are (mostly mixed, but a few purebreds). I’ve met some very interesting people there, and a few I consider friends. A couple of ladies with whom I really feel connected have similar interests and world views. We have had lunch and dinner a couple of times, and I think that we have established a nice slow getting to know each other relationship. I’ve met people from all walks of life, but the one thing we all have in common is our love for our dogs, for all dogs. I find it brings people together no matter what their circumstances, or beliefs, or how they grew up, or who they voted for. Wouldn’t it be nice if we all could look at each other in such a non-judgmental way and just love one another?

See you soon,

Susan

Change is a six-letter word

Posted on by SusieQ

Wow. It’s been seven years since I wrote a blog post. A lot has happened in that seven years. The biggie–we no longer live in Ohio. We relocated to the state of Tennessee a year ago. Why, you ask? For one thing, the weather is better, at least the winter weather. But the main reason is that everyone needed a change. The grandkids are mostly grown up. The oldest is on the cusp of turning 21. The youngest is no longer a toddler. He’s a grapevine swinging, basketball playing, bike riding, skateboarding, video game playing, 9 1/2 year old fourth grader. No doubt, the move was difficult for some, but transformational for others. No details necessary, just know that we’re working it out.

Let me backtrack a little. Six years ago, the husband and I realized we weren’t getting any younger, and decided we were going to pursue life in the Smoky Mountains. He had loved them since he was a boy, and I just love mountains, all of them. Of course, the Rocky Mountains are gloriously dramatic, but we also love the more gentle grandeur of the Smokies. We took a long weekend with Joshie (now known as Josh, mostly, unless he’s in trouble), called a real estate agent who lined up a few properties that we looked at online, and a few that she found. The first one we looked at looked like a log cabin from the outside, but was contemporary on the inside. Perfect, right? I fell in love with it on the spot. It has everything I was looking for, and the mountain views from the wraparound porch were spectacular. Husband wasn’t sure. He wasn’t enamored of the seeming political views of several of the homeowners on the country road. Can we say confederate flags flying from quite a few porches?

We looked at six or seven other properties in the next couple of days. Most were true cabins, but nearly all of them were down in a hollow with the only views being trees. There was one that was ten feet from its neighbors, which immediately ruled it out. We went home a little wiser, but nowhere near making a decision. I loved that first house, but I figured it was a no go.

So, two months later, husband surprised me by saying he was going to put in an offer on “my” house. It was still on the market, which wasn’t crazy cuckoo the way it is now. With very little haggling, the owner accepted our offer. Our first thought was, Oh, shit, what have we done? Then excitement ensued.

The original plan was for husband and I to move there in a few years when our daughter got finished with her degree and was on her feet. Well, as often happens, life intervened. We ended up staying in Ohio for what we thought was the long run. We turned the “cabin” into a vacation rental, and also for personal use. I had a ball searching out used furniture and artwork for the walls. We did buy new beds and mattresses from IKEA that have held up remarkably well. And Smoky Mountain Hideaway was born. No, this isn’t an advertisement for our business, but I thought you would like to see the awesome pictures we have posted on our website. Just look under Gallery in the menu. It’s pretty popular with bikers, mostly Harley riders, who love the close proximity to the Tail of the Dragon. They also love that they can park their motorcycles in the garage, in case of inclement weather. No, we didn’t relocate to the cabin. We’re still using it as a vacation rental. We didn’t want to make the kids live in such a remote rural area. We moved to a city famous for its contribution to the end of World War II, but more on that later.

Speaking of websites, I changed my format, and the name obviously, but I don’t think I like the one I chose. I might go back to the old one if it’s still available, but I don’t think it will be. Which leads me to the name change. We don’t live on a maple syrup “farm” anymore, so I couldn’t really leave it as Sweet Life Farm. The new title came from a book that I bought for myself called “Burn After Writing.” It’s one of those journal-type books that give you prompts to start writing. That phrase just keeps sticking in my head, even though I haven’t written the first sentence in it. I had been tossing around the idea of restarting my blog, so it seemed like the right time and the right theme.

Change. My goodness, the way the world and the United States has changed in the past seven years. It’s hard to wrap your head around all of it. I’ll more than likely write about some of it in future posts. We’ve all had a lot of changes happen in the past few years, and I’m right there with you. I’m the queen of change. Adapt or perish, that’s my motto.

It’s nice to be back. I needed this.

See you soon,

Susan

Rumble in the ‘hood, motherhood, that is.

Posted on by SusieQ

Have you seen the video? This one, by Similac—Sisterhood of Motherhood.

https://youtu.be/Me9yrREXOj4

The atmosphere on social media has become toxic in so many ways, and mothering/parenting has not escaped its poison. The anonymity of commenting, especially if one uses a nom de guerre, guarantees very little backlash for disparaging comments made. Everyone is an expert, and everyone, it seems, wants to think that their way is best, and how dare you to choose a different path or method. No area is off limits, from how one becomes pregnant, delivery choices, methods of feeding, stay-at-home-mom (SAHM) versus working mom, whether one pushes (in a stroller) or cuddles (in a Moby). These are just some of the highlights (or lowlights?) of ways mothers and others can use to find fault in how one raises their child. And these aren’t gentle suggestions, they more exactly resemble hate mail and bullying.

The video starts out like a rumble in the park, ala West Side Story. It is humorous without being mean, and gently rebukes those who choose to criticize mothers and fathers. The ending is sweet, and I actually felt tears welling up inside. The message is well taken, let’s stop bullying with words. Let’s support our compatriots in life, no matter what path they choose. Let’s just all get along.

Spring break ain’t what it used to be

Posted on by SusieQ

The grandkids are having their spring break this week. My plans were to take them to the zoo yesterday, which were made pursuant to last week’s weather forecast of sunny and a high of 45°. A little chilly, but if we layered and ducked into the aquarium, and the Australian nocturnal house, and reptile house enough times, it just might be enjoyable. Well, that little plan got spoiled by Mother Nature. High of 30°, and three inches of snow starting in the early afternoon. They played in the snow instead—Nathan, Kaitlyn, and Joshie. Kaity came in first, because Nate pelted her face with wet snow. Then Nate asked me if I would help him get Joshie inside, because he was done, but his little brother didn’t want to quit. They had already been out for about 45 minutes, but I put on my Snowmageddon outfit, and stayed out with him for a while longer. And stayed, and stayed…he’s the Energizer Bunny when it comes to the outdoors. Finally, when it was almost dark, and he was getting wet from the heavy snow, I got his mommy, who was just returning from running an errand, to bring him in. He wasn’t too happy about it, but so far, we’re still in charge. So far.

I googled indoor water parks for something to do this week. That’s not happening. The good ones are already booked up, of course, and the two stars on TripAdvisor ones are too expensive for the quality of the accommodations. I really didn’t want to spend that kind of money anyway. I think it would be better spent on a summer membership to the municipal pool, where I can take them every day, if the weather permits.

The only movie they want to see doesn’t come out until Friday, and I don’t really consider that an activity. So, there’s bowling, if we can get a lane. I’m only counting indoor activities, because it’s supposed to be rainy and drizzly the rest of the week. Bah.

We’re members of the Ohio History Connection, so we’re heading to the Ohio History Center on Wednesday. They have a wonderful exhibit of a 1950s Lustron home, reconstructed on the site, and complete with costumed docents. Lustron homes are fascinating. They were manufactured of porcelain enamel-covered steel. They were touted to be the home of the future, fully maintenance free, and easy to clean, and made on an assembly line. Lustron was the wonder child of an Ohio businessman, Carl Strandlund. There’s one in Marysville, although I don’t think it’s in mint condition, judging from the outside.

All of the historical sites in Ohio fall under the Ohio History Connection umbrella. We started Spring break early on Saturday with a visit and a hike at one of the most interesting locations—the Cedar Bog Nature Preserve, the largest and best boreal and prairie fen in Ohio (there are only two). I don’t know why it has bog in the name, because bogs are different from fens, in that “bogs clog, and fens flush”. Many cautions are handed out about staying on the boardwalk the entire time, mainly because the sedges (grasses are round, sedges have edges) are deceptive. You think you are stepping out onto grass, but you can sink into water as deep as your waist in a matter of minutes, and it’s muck under there, kind of like quicksand. The water stays at a constant 55°F year round, even in the most bitter cold and the hottest days of summer.

If that wasn’t enough to scare the young’uns, the over-the-top warnings about the Eastern Massauga rattlesnakes sunning themselves on the boardwalk, and the honeybee tree with the swarming bees was enough to make Nate want to stay in the visitor center. But we convinced him that, more than likely, we wouldn’t encounter any snakes. I don’t really think it was warm enough for them to be out of hibernation. As I thought, there were no scary encounters on our little hike. There were lots of skunk cabbages poking their little purplish heads through the muck, though. It was fun trying to spot them. And we did see the bee tree, but the honeybees were, as usual, minding their own business and not bothering anyone. I want to go back to Cedar Bog when the spring flowers are in bloom. It’s a sight to see.

We also did a short hike at the Darby Creek Headwaters Nature Preserve. The trail and viewing platforms were built and are maintained by The Nature Conservancy. They have an Ohio headquarters in Dublin. David’s sister Anita is an attorney for the national headquarters in Arlington, Virginia. They do wonderful work preserving natural places for future generations to appreciate and enjoy.

All of that hiking worked up a big appetite. We went to the little town of West Liberty, where we ate lunch at the only fast food place in town, a Subway, which is about the only fast food that I can still stomach. We were lucky to get there ahead of a girls’ soccer team, and a boys’ baseball team. Then we headed to the local ice cream shop, Nanzinger’s, where we had delicious ice cream cones, and I found a source for free-range eggs and bought two dozen. Nate doesn’t like ice cream (he’s not related to me!!), so after we had our ice cream, we headed to Marie’s Candies, a local candy maker. They hand out free samples, and have the best chocolates I’ve ever tasted. Yum. They had all their Easter offerings on display, and I’m going back this week to buy candy for the kids’ Easter baskets. Nate perused all of the delicious offerings, and finally settled on sour gummy worms. What?? I’m beginning to think that this child really isn’t related to me!

Joshie was plumb tuckered out and slept most of the hour’s drive home. The boys said it was a really great day (Kaity had spent the night with a friend and didn’t go with us), and when can we do it again? Soon, boys, real soon.