So I tried adding to my old blog, but apparently didn't do a great job at it and ended up with a new blog instead. I don't get it, but apparently I need to go with the flow.
If I could hook up a computer to my mind, I would have blog entries every day, just based on my drive to and from work. Of course, they would have to be heavily edited. The actual act of getting on and blogging goes in the category of "nice idea, never get around to it". I'll try to get around to it a bit more, but no promises.
I did want to make this blog somewhat about adventures in parenting. I won't claim to be an expert by any means, though I did partially raise six siblings and am making a an attempt with my four kids now. Parenting raises so many more questions than answers. So perhaps I will simply reflect on these questions rather than trying to dole out any advice whatsoever, since I'm not sure I'm doing this whole parent thing right anyway.
So here is my reflective question this time: why is it that teenagers are so possesive over their own stuff at home and yet they 1) think nothing of exchanging stuff with all their friends and 2) believe that parent's stuff is free game? I mean, when it comes to my makeup, hair appliances, pillows, personal space...I might as well be living in some sort of household commune. To the teenagers, they live by the adage "What is my parents is also mine". Yet if I so much as LOOK too long at one of their things, you would think I committed a serious crime. "What are you looking at my .... for?" For starters, I'm trying to determine if it is really MINE. Next, I'm trying to figure out where they got it. "Oh, that came from .... (insert name of friend, casual acquaintance, or some poor shlepp off the street), and they let me borrow it." "So can I borrow it...for a millisecond...?" "EWW, NO!" Like I have some mom cooties or something. Geez, I wouldn't want to poison their precious things!
Perhaps it seems a bit strange for a grown woman to be so possesive of her things. I guess it comes from having six siblings. They were always in my stuff. And when a younger brother who shall remain nameless STOLE my lipstick and drew all over the downstairs bathroom in it, guess who got in trouble? Not the brother! Bad enough that they took my stuff...but for me to get in trouble for apparently not hiding it well enough? Not that I'm resentful or anything...
Then there were the laundry bins. Mom did her best when folding clothes to actually put our clothing into our laundry bin. Sometimes, however, you would end up with someone elses socks, underwear, shirts...I wouldn't say that it was because mom was distracted, but she did have that phone right next to the laundry room...these days, I suppose we would call it "multitasking". At least she tried. Problem was, though us girls were generally smart enough to figure out we had the wrong clothes, the boys would take it as "if it is in my box, it must be mine." Some days they would come into devotional with a really funny look on their face like they were in tremendous pain. Sure they were in pain...they were wearing underwear meant for a little brother that was so small on them that they no longer had circulation to their legs. Um...why don't you change? "It was in my BOX!" Right.
I have to admit, I couldn't tell these days which clothing items were whose. I don't know how Mom ever really kept track. Perhaps I could avoid lots of hassle by simply putting all of their stuff in my closet. The kids would be so incensed that I had their things, that they would instantly grab what is theirs and take it back to their room.
I could be on to something here!
