Sentimental

“Sentimental.”

 One definition is:  Of or prompted by feelings of tenderness, sadness or nostalgia.

 Yup that’s me.

One example is of my overnight camp years. Having attended Camp Matoaka for 10 summers as a camper and a counselor, I have accumulated memories and friendships that will last a lifetime. Fortunately, there are many others who are just as eager to relive those days, and it doesn’t take but a photo of a loon on Facebook to trigger a slew of memories.  Now that my children bleed camp (Tel Noar), I can experience the excitement first hand once again.

I am also sentimental when it comes to my children, who are now 15 and 12 years old. They are old enough to have memories of when “they were little,” as they say. We have more than a dozen movies of their childhood which we still love to watch. Although I didn’t keep every bib or blanket, there are a few items which are difficult for me to part with.

 One of those items is books, some of which were mine growing up. I can look at a book, let’s say, “Harry By the Sea,” and remember when I would read that to them. If it is good shape, and most of them are, then I feel we should save it for their own kids, my grandchildren.  School work is another problem area for me, especially for large projects or artwork. I figure they worked so hard on it, how can I just toss it? Maybe I don’t keep every single paper, but I have my fair share of worksheets, drawings and reports.

There is one item which I know I have kept too long. It didn’t really match the décor, and I haven’t used in a many years, but that sentimental value was overpowering.

The item is a white glider rocking chair.

That rocking chair accompanied me through midnight and daily feedings, hours of storytime, giving medicine and cuddling away sadness. I used to sing a song to each of the kids before bed, which recounted what they did during the day.  We took pictures of the kids on that chair. Then they used to climb on it to read a book once in a while too.

Have I sat in said rocking chair in the last two years? Five years? No. But it was there and represented a time in my life which I didn’t want to give up easily. I think Brad would have given it up years ago, but he knows me well enough to even ask. So when I recently told him I wanted to give it to any of the several people in my office who recently had a baby or are going to have one soon, he said calmly, “That would be nice.” What he was really thinking was, “It’s about time.”

When I asked one man in my office, who recently became the father of twins, if he would like the chair, he responded with a resounding “Yes!” almost before I finished asking. Then and there I knew this was the right choice. He picked it up yesterday. 

Why am I now able to give away this sentimental piece of furniture? Although I will never forget the past, and I might even dwell in it too long sometimes, I know there is so much for us in the future.  I am on the verge of aging into a new decade. The kids are growing into amazing adults. I have a terrific husband. We still have both sets of parents and lots in the way of family and friends.  I love my job, and I can still wield a tennis racquet better than the average bear. My present tense is “rockin’.”

There is a void in the corner of my bedroom, and I will think of that rocker for a few more days. But I can also picture my friend feeding his children, reading stories and making wonderful memories, just like I did.

Parenting by the stages; can we ever catch up?

I have been a parent for a little more than 12 years. So, I could go on a limb and say I’m seasoned. Thing is, as soon as I have figured out one stage of a child’s life, his/her life and maturity changes, and I need to readjust to another stage. Quickly. If someone with an infant were to ask me a question, I might not be so seasoned anymore.

At first, parents worry more about the child’s basic needs, the physical needs. Is he eating enough? Growing enough? Pooping enough? Will she suffocate in the crib?

We turn around, and we worry the child will swallow a button and choke to death or put a bead up his nose. We know the child can make decisions, and we try to teach right from wrong in a very general, black and white sense. Another turn, and we worry he’ll fall off his bike and break a limb, or get teased at school. We’re now moving more into the “the child is independent, but we still need to watch over him” and into the emotional health.

It’s hard to write this and not get choked up. I remember when they were born and watched their every move. The first smiles. The first crawls and steps. The outings when it seemed like we needed to take everything with us just in case. Registration for kindergarten. First day of 1st grade. Hebrew School consecration. I have tears in my eyes thinking about it.

My son did put a bead up his nose. Fortunately, he knew how to blow it out. And not too long ago my daughter fell off her bike and hurt her ankle. Thank goodness it wasn’t a break. These are small and part of growing up- physical and emotions. It all seems easy in hindsight. These days, I’m talking with my children about sex, and saying no to drugs and alcohol. More than ever we pray that they will make the right decisions when we’re not around.

I think the good thing about parenting is that we get a little smarter at each stage. Sure, we can get baffled by some actions and reactions. But overall, we can think a little more quickly on our feet based on past experiences and what will sustain for the longer term. We try to be consistent in what we say and do.
By working hard for the past decade, we have begun to raise two smart, outgoing and sensitive children. They are our pride and joy, and they can drive us up the wall. But isn’t that the challenge? We raise our children to be independent thinkers, to question and to fight for what they think is right. Why should I stop them from doing that with us? Maybe getting more TV time isn’t exactly what we meant by fighting for what they think is right, but it’s a start.

Will we ever catch up? Probably not. As we raise our children, we also raise ourselves as parents. I wonder what tomorrow will bring? No time to worry.