Skip to main content

I No Go Home

Caroline loves to be outside. She particularly likes to leave our house and venture into town and the surrounding area. Whether it be the "fishie's swimming pool"/lake, the local playground Kid City or to Carl the neighbor's for a visit with the "kitchens" aka chickens, Caroline is in her element in the great outdoors. We can travel five hours by plane or car to an interesting or exotic locale where, if she has something to push, Caroline pays no attention to the surroundings touted by the Chamber of Commerce.

She'll ram into walls, corners and people's heels as she steers her stroller, shopping cart or bike. She can do this for hours. She can also slide, swing, throw rocks or dirt for extremely lengthy amounts of time. Occasionally she pauses to notice the wind by noting, "It's cold.It's winding," Or to ask me while pointing up, "I go high? I go to the sky?"

I've learned to live on Caroline-time and while at first this was very hard for me, I now revel in the opportunity to slow down and enjoy each moment. No, I can not do the laundry or check email, watch TV or clean when we are on one of our walks, but I can clear my mind and have a simple conversation free of stress and expectations. We talk about the weather. We talk about colors and direction (up, down, up, down). We talk about animals and count to ten. Sometimes we do not talk at all and we just enjoy the feeling of the sun on our cheeks, the wind caressing our skin. It's so simple, easy and carefree.

That's why it concerns me that no matter where we go or where we are, Caroline stops mid-play to announce, "I no go home." She is only 2 1/2 (as she now tells us) but she has astutely concluded that all things fun come to an end. While she has taught me to focus on each minute, in her mind, Caroline is worried about the future. Children learn by repetition and my daughter knows that we go out, we play and in the end, we come home. We stop playing and we do all the things that are not so fun like take a bath, comb our hair and eventually go to sleep. She knows already that good things seem to last every so briefly and the rest of life is filled up with all the stuff that just isn't fun at all.

I can't control time or hide from her the fact that time flies when you're having fun. I do hope I am able to teach her to have fun or at least be carefree and at ease when all the other stuff in life gets in the way. I, too, hope some day she'll look forward to coming home, whether it's from a great day at school when she tells me all about an accomplishment or a not-so-good day when she finds comfort in telling me all about it while I cook dinner. I hope she visits places around the world yet knows that the she can always find respite where she grew up, with people who know her well and love her so much.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

When The Team Won't Follow the Leader

I am aware that there are some critics out there who think that Andy and I are kind of loosey-goosey parents. Some think we don’t have enough rules or enough structure or discipline in our family. I’ve always felt really bad about this because, from one perspective, I can sort of see what they are talking about. Not a day goes by that I don’t feel guilty about being a shitty parent. My thoughts before passing out each night, exhausted, are about how I could’ve done a better job today and that I really hope I can do a better job the next day. Tomorrow is a new day to make rules and implement them, right? But I finally figured out what the missing link is for me and Andy and why we just can’t be the structured, rigid, disciplinarians that we “aspire“ to be. The other day I was picking up the kids. When we were driving home, my mind was racing with about 50 different things I needed to do at home and at work. I’ll be honest, I wasn’t really present in the moment with the kids even thoug...

The Perennial

Turning 40 is hitting me like a ton of bricks. I’m talking somebody standing at the top of the Empire State building with a wheelbarrow of bricks that they throw on top of me as I stand on the street. Every brick that catapults toward me has a different message: Your hair is getting gray. Your eyebrows are thinning. The skin on your neck and elbows is getting soft. Your hands are wrinkly. Your midsection is getting softer and rounder. You wear progressive glasses. You wake up and go to bed really early. You talk about things like vitamins and retirement. Your back hurts when you get out of bed and when you stand too long or when you sit too long. You think about taking Metamucil or Fiber One to keep you regular. You have one glass of wine and feel hung over the next day. Your kids talk about buying bras and getting their period. You should have stood up straight as a kid because now your neck and back are stuck in this awkward, turtle-like position, and it...

Charlotte's Story

What can you do in seventeen minutes? Watch an episode of your favorite sitcom without commercials? Run two miles at a good clip? Eat a meal, or in Andy's case, microwave a meal and then eat it? Have a baby? Because that's what I did. You heard me right. I birthed a baby in seventeen minutes because I am a machine. I am a machine ! I am a baby birthing woman of steel. I am not much of a bragger and you may recall that I was never good and never bad at anything. I have no particular achievements to tout, academically, physically, professionally or otherwise except baby birthing. I'm really good at this and I'm pretty darn proud of it and I'd like to brag about it to you now. This is Charlotte's birth story. For the first four or five months of my pregnancy with Charlotte, most people forgot that I was even pregnant. This does happen to you with multiple pregnancies. I never forgot that I was pregnant. Morning sickness heart burn and frequent bathroom t...