Parenting: Taking the Bad Along With the Good

The best part of being a parent is watching my kids fight … said no parent ever!

I grew up as an almost only child (my sister is a decade younger than me), so I was fortunately (or unfortunately?) never exposed to sibling rivalry. Now as a mama of two munchkins, I see, hear and breathe it every single day. Let me give you some examples:

Scenario 1: E grabs C’s favorite chicky toy and hugs it tightly to his chest while C pounds on his back and demands it back.

Scenario 2: C (with a sneaky smile on her face) purposely touches E’s shoes when he specifically told her not to.

And my favorite (sarcasm intended) Scenario 3 (in the car as they sit side by side):

C: E’s trying to lick me! He’s blowing air on my face!

E: C’s foot is in my spot! Tell her to move!

Me: That’s enough! Keep your tongues, breath, feet, everything to yourselves!!

Argh. I’m getting riled up just thinking about this. (Pausing to take a deep breath.) πŸ˜›

So, the kids’ daily fighting got me thinking some deep thoughts one day (thanks also in part to my recent mid-faith crisis). All  the anger and frustration and shock that I feel when E and C mistreat one another give me a tiny, ant-like glimpse into how God must feel when we (mankind) mistreat one another. I’m talking about the things we see on the news and the things that happen behind closed doors, the inconceivable acts people do to harm strangers and even worse, their own family members. πŸ™

All the crazy stuff going on in the world makes me wonder, Why can’t we just get along?!

I wonder if this is something God asks, too. But of course He knows the answer to this question. He knows the reasons behind each of our dark thoughts, intentions and behaviors, yet He is still patient with us. How can this be? How can God see all the bad happening in the world and not want to pull His hair out or hide away in a closet somewhere as I often want to do when my kids get out of control?

Maybe it’s because even though He sees all the bad, He also sees all the good.

Now that I’ve been a parent for 8+ years, I’m starting to understand a few things about having kids.

1. They will misbehave, so it shouldn’t come as a surprise when they do.

2. They also have the capacity to be kind, helpful and compassionate.

3. I readily take the bad along with the good because I love them and they are mine.

I’m not God (thankfully!), but I’m guessing that He really enjoys it when His kids do get along. Sure, we don’t get along all the time, but there are plenty of moments when we’ve seen love at work among family, friends and even complete strangers. I have experienced it myself and I’m sure you have, too.

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I love it when my munchkins love each other! (Please disregard the mess – this picture is from a few years ago. LOL)

So we (or maybe more specifically I) shouldn’t lose heart over all the crazy stuff that goes on in the world (or the backseat of my car) because there’s still a lot of beautiful, amazing stuff happening, too.

I think this verse from Romans 12:21 about sums things up: “Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good.”

This post was inspired in part by Alicia Keys’ new song, “We Are Here”. The lyrics talk about the troubling things happening in the world, but also the love we can show each other.

How have you seen good overcome evil in your life?

The Sweetness of Old Love

Hubby and I are attending a wedding this weekend, and two thoughts come to mind – YAY for our friends, and awww, it’s going to be a big mush-fest.

Don’t you just enjoy seeing couples getting hitched? There’s something about weddings that is so refreshing and warm fuzzy, kind of like the feeling you get when you slip on a pair of toasty socks fresh out of the dryer. Perhaps it’s the ideality of the situation, the sweet hopes and dreams that a bride and groom share when they make their vows. Or the high level of happiness surrounding an event that brings family and friends from around the globe together. Or, maybe for some, it’s the free food and drinks. πŸ˜‰

The reason I enjoy going to weddings is to see new love. New love is quite possibly one of the most beautiful sights to behold. It’s what causes couples to stare longingly and adoringly into each other’s eyes, to call each other cute nicknames, such as Pumpkin or Snookums (or if you’re Chinese – Lao Gong/Lao Po), and to want to spend every single second of the day together, just to be in each other’s presence.

Yes, new love is terribly, wonderfully sweet.

But did you know there’s something that tops even that? There’s something else that can pull at your heartstrings and make your teeth ache even more from sugar-overload.

Yup, the only thing sweeter than new love is old love. πŸ™‚

Old love is like the couple who sometimes goes through an entire day without realizing they hadn’t shared a kiss, but they know how the other person is feeling just from hearing their voice on the phone. It’s having the assurance that your hubby knows you so well that when you ask him to bring home lunch (after having survived taking your kid to the dentist to get three teeth pulled), you open the to-go box to find exactly what you wanted. And it’s the ability to freak your hubby out by predicting exactly what he’s doing, when he’s doing it (see below for proof).

This was a real exchange between hubby and me. LOL

If you ask me, I think old love is pretty awesome. πŸ™‚

This is my wish for our soon-to-be-married friends, that they will have a beautiful day celebrating their new love and look forward to a lifetime of happily developing their old love.

Take a listen to this perfect wedding song, “You and Me”, by Lifehouse.

What do you enjoy most about weddings? 

Apologies to My “Type Z” Child

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I love to eat pie. Hand me a slice of hot, baked-from-scratch, fresh-out-of-the-oven apple pie (or peach pie or any kind of berry pie) with a scoop of ice cream next to it (not on top cause that would make it melt too quickly!), and I’m a happy camper.

But do you know what kind of pie I don’t like eating?

You guessed it – humble pie.

If you can imagine, humble pie is that barely recognizable “dessert” made up of a gooey crust and cold, moldy filling. It’s like a baker opened up a can of very expired fruit and dumped it into a raw pie crust and handed it to you in a floppy tin foil pan.

Not too appetizing, is it? That’s why I was less than thrilled to have been served a slice of it this week.

Let me start from the beginning.

I’m a pretty typical Type A kind of gal. I’m detail oriented, a little too serious, task-oriented … you get the picture. But somehow I gave birth to a Type Z daughter. (Yes, I know the opposite of the Type A personality is usually called Type B, but I think using the letter Z is more appropriate given how completely opposite these two personalities are.) So, me and C (aka. my alter ego) get along great much of the time. She injects joy and life into the most mundane moments, such as the time she decided to place a shredded carrot between her upper lip and nose to form a mustache. Or the times she squeezes me tight and tells me, “I love you more than you love me!” Those are the moments that make me stop whatever task I’m doing and just laugh. I call her my fun-loving, happy kid.

Then there are the times my Type Z daughter causes me to sigh and groan. It’s usually when she has misplaced an item and starts having a minor meltdown about losing it, only to have me point out that it was right in front of her face the entire time (just partially hidden under something else). Or when she leaves a trail of toys on the floor and neglects to clean them up, creating a dangerous obstacle course for me to go through. These are the moments I end up complaining to hubby about how forgetful, messy and undetailed (yes, I made that up) his mini-me is.

So here’s where things started going downhill for me as a parent this past week. I was packing the kids’ snacks/lunch one morning and asking C where she put her water bottle. My exact words were, “Go look for it! You probably left it upstairs.”

Upon hearing my nagging voice, she went up to her room to look, then came back down and searched some more. When she told me she couldn’t find it, I sighed (of course) and thought to myself, I’m not surprised. She always loses things. Then I grabbed another pink water bottle of hers, packed it in her bag and sent her out the door to school.

Soon after, I opened the refrigerator to get some breakfast for myself, and my eyes spotted something on the top shelf that immediately made me cringe. Lo and behold, there was C’s “missing” water bottle, which I had put there the day before.

When I told hubby about this later, he gave me a “That’s not nice” look and said I’d better apologize to C for accusing her of losing her water bottle.

“I know, I know. I will,” I replied through a mouthful of humble pie.

Sigh. I hate swallowing my pride and admitting I am wrong about something. But this time I had no qualms about doing just that because I felt so bad that I had mislabeled my sweet daughter. Sure, the labels I had been using were based off of her tendencies, but tendencies only reflect what someone does some of the time, not all of the time. And negative labels certainly don’t give people the benefit of the doubt that possibly, just possibly, someone else could be at fault.

So, I’m trying to focus on more positive labels for my kids and for people in general (myself included). No one is perfect. Everyone has their share of strengths, including my Type Z daughter. And everyone has their share of weaknesses, especially a certain Type A mama. πŸ˜‰

This song by Corinne Bailey Rae, “Put Your Records On”, comes to mind when I think about C. The lyrics remind me of her free spirit.

What personality traits do you have a harder time getting along with?

Thoughts About the New Nicolas Cage Movie and Other Matters of Faith

A few days ago, I dragged hubby to watch the (new) Left Behind movie. Well, dragged might be too dramatic a word to use here; he more or less humored me by going. When we discovered that the next showing of Gone Girl would be too late for us to catch, I enticed him with the idea of seeing Nicolas Cage on the big screen, and he agreed. (To be truthful, a psychological thriller about a marriage gone wrong probably wouldn’t be the best choice for a date night anyway, haha.) Thankfully, Nicolas Cage came through and made the movie more than decent. Okay, he basically carried the whole film with his gut-wrenchingly believable acting. (For more proof of Mr. Cage’s acting chops, check out Face Off.) If there’s any reason you should watch Left Behind, it’s him.

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Other than that, if you really want the wonder and awe of an Oscar-worthy movie about eschatology (a fancy term for “end times”), you should just stick to the original script found in the book of Revelation. As a writer, I am more and more impressed by authors who write amazing stories, especially in the genres that I can’t, namely sci-fi and fantasy. Although the writer of Revelation is John, the creator of the events that unfold in those twenty-two chapters is God. And boy, is He an amazing author. As a kid in Sunday school and later on as a grad student in seminary, I used to think all the stuff described in the last book of the Bible was strange and out of this world. Now, as a writer, I am starting to see how amazingly creative the story really is. And how amazingly creative God really is.

Yes, it takes a lot of faith to believe in all the end time stuff that Revelation talks about, not to mention the rest of the Bible. Even for someone who began going to church at the age of seven, it’s hard for me to wrap my head around the ideas that God exists, that mankind is sinful and that Jesus, God’s own son, came to earth to die for us.

If I can be honest, I’ve recently been going through a mid-faith crisis. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that I’m reaching mid-life or I’ve just been allowing myself to ask some hard questions about what I believe in. I’m starting to see that the journey of faith that I am on, and I believe each person is on, goes through five stages: denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance.

What does each stage look like? Maybe something like this:

Denial – Does God exist?

Anger – Why does a loving God allow (fill in the blank) to happen?

Bargaining – If I do (fill in the blank), can’t I make it to heaven?

Depression – Will God accept me even though I’ve (fill in the blank)?

Acceptance – I have answers for all those questions above and believe, without a doubt, in Jesus.

I’ve been a believer for almost thirty years, yet I think I’m just starting to go through some of these stages. I’m sure the process is different for every person; there is no one correct formula or method. I think the important thing is to go through the stages and to be honest about our questions and thoughts. It helps to do research, too, to find the answers to your questions. I’m thankful to be able to voice my wacky and cynical thoughts to hubby and have him listen without judgment as I process through them.

I’m still journeying through the stages, sometimes going from one to another and back again. But I am starting to get answers and clarity. Through all of my wavering though, I know God hasn’t been upset or surprised by my pondering. After all, He’s the one who gave me a brain to think with. And the bottom line is, I know He won’t leave me, or anyone else, hanging if we truly want answers.

Oh, if anyone is wondering, yes, the five stages of faith are the same as the five stages of grief. Funny how that works, huh? But it makes sense, too. To truly believe in God means letting go of your own ideals about who God is and knowing there is only one God – and you’re not Him.

Here’s a song from Left Behind, Jordin Sparks’ cover of DC Talk’s “I Wish We’d All Been Ready”. (If you don’t catch the movie in theaters, Redbox it!)

Where are you currently at in your journey of faith?

Learning How to Juggle

Some of you may have seen the photo I posted on Facebook of the current state of our living room. If not, here it is for your viewing pleasure:

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As if having 25 boxes (some bursting at the seams) stacked up one on top of another wasn’t enough of a walking hazard, hubby decided one day last week to turn them into a secret hideout/maze for the kids (complete with a hidden camera peeking out from one end). I will leave that image up to your imagination because I can’t manage to fit the whole “arrangement” into one frame to show you. πŸ˜›

Suffice it to say, I have been learning how to juggle.

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Quite amazing, isn’t it, how they can keep so many things going at once!

 

Thankfully, not with plates or balls or boxes, but with tasks. And for someone who multitasks as much as I do, it’s still been tough! Now, on top of my responsibilities as a wife and mom and writer, I can add entrepreneurial businesswoman to the list. Sounds fancy, doesn’t it? Nah, it’s just a way for me to explain why we have 25 boxes taking up residence in our living room.

Before I can reveal what’s in those boxes though, I’m working on setting up a website and having photos taken of the lovely things in those boxes. This will hopefully be done within the next two weeks. I’m looking forward to announcing the product – and getting each and every one of those 25 boxes out the door!

Stay tuned! πŸ™‚

Not sure why, but this song popped into my head. It’s the Beatles, “Twist and Shout”, something you should not do while you’re juggling, but something I hope to be able to do in the living room again someday!

I’m very curious to see if any one of you have had your own business before? If so, please share the ups and downs of your experience. I need all the help I can get!

A Letter to My Munchkins from their Spidey-Mama

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Dear Munchkins,

As your parent, I feel a little bit like Spiderman. It’s probably because I have a really strong “Spidey-sense” (aka. Mom-with-eyes-on-the-back-of-her-head-skills), but even more, I am left at times feeling like I have too much power. Power to influence your precious hearts and minds in how you see the world. Power in shaping you to be people who will hopefully not only be good citizens, but know how to live a life worth living. And like Spiderman says, because I have so much power in my hands, I feel a great sense of responsibility, too.

I know it is my responsibility to teach you right from wrong. Since I’m a rule-based, square kind of gal, that comes easily to me. But one thing that’s not in my nature to do is to step out of my comfort zone. However, that is the one thing I hope we can learn to do together.

I want you to know that I like to be comfortable, to hang out with people I am familiar with, to go places I’ve gone before, and to do things I’m used to doing. To do otherwise takes a lot of guts and conviction, two things I don’t have a lot of. (Thankfully, your Baba does.)

As I get older (and a little more wiser), I’ve learned a few things. One, life is a lot more complicated than I wish it was. Two, people (myself included) are a lot more messy than we would like them to be. Three, God loves us all the same, through whatever complicated life circumstance we may be in and despite how messy we are at the moment.

This is why I’m learning to lift up my head, open up my eyes and look outside of my bubble more often. This is why I chose to see the man standing at the side of the freeway exit with a sign that said, “Lost my job. Have 3 daughters. Please help.” And to listen to the woman standing outside the supermarket who told us about the abusive relationship she just got out of and the 4 kids she has to take care of on her own. And to talk to the man sitting outside Panera who so humbly asked, “Could you get me something to eat?”

I’ll be the first to admit that I used to (and sometimes still do) pass people by. But there came a point in my life (probably after I became your mama), when I knew I had to start caring. Because if I don’t show compassion to those in need, you likely won’t either.

What began as a “should” on my part grew (and continues to grow) into a “want”. As I see, listen and talk to the men and women we meet, I am learning that they are people, too. They are someone’s son or daughter, father or mother, brother or sister. They have a name, a heart and a story.

Though you are both little now, you have great big hearts. Hearts that exclaim, “That person’s holding a sign. Give him some money!” whenever we see a person in need. Hearts that are open to helping and caring for others anytime, anywhere. Hearts that impress me and give me hope that the meaningful things I believe and do are rubbing off on you.

I hope you know that superheroes don’t all wear tights or capes or masks. They come in all shapes and sizes, especially pint sizes. I know this is true because you, munchkins, rescue my heart from denial, selfishness and complacency each and every day.

You are my great, big reminders to live a life of love.

xoxo,

Your friendly neighborhood Spidey-Mama

Take a listen to Sara Bareilles’ song, “Bottle It Up”. I like the part of the chorus that says, “The only thing worth trying to be is love.”

Who do you have a hard time showing love to? 

There’s No One Youer Than You

The kiddos, being as observant as they are, have come to a conclusion about who is the better driver in our family. Both E and C have said, “I want Mama to teach me how to drive and Baba to teach me how to park.”

I think you can guess which person has never gotten a moving violation in her life. πŸ˜‰ Hubby, on the other hand, exhibits PTSD symptoms every time he sees a police car in the rearview mirror.

But now, why do the kids want hubby to teach them how to park? It might have something to do with the fact that other cars have been known to get in my way when I try to squeeze my car in between those white painted lines on the ground. Yes, I’ve had to on more than one occasion leave a friendly, apologetic note on someone’s windshield. (Feel free to not park next to me if we’re ever in the same lot; I won’t be offended.) πŸ™‚

I’m fine with admitting I have faulty spatial skills because I know it’s true. This is why I would rather park in a nice open space a few blocks away from my destination than choose a tight one close by and pose a risk to any surrounding vehicles. And also why I don’t mind giving hubby the chance to show off his awesome parallel parking skills whenever possible.

All this talk about who is the better driver/parker got me thinking one day. I think there’s something to be said about knowing what you’re not good at, and even more, to know what you are good at. I’m not talking about being prideful or boastful about your abilities, but about being content and thankful. Understanding your strengths and the particular ways in which God has made you unique is actually a step towards freedom. Freedom to stop trying to be someone you’re not, and freedom to just be you.

For me, this means accepting that I am an introvert, that I can write twice as many words as I will ever speak, and I love to listen. This means I am okay with being quiet and needing to have my “cave time” to recharge. This means that while I admire talkative, life-of-the-party people, I don’t have to feel inferior to them. Everyone is different, but equally needed. After all, how would extroverts ever survive without us introverts (and vice versa)? πŸ™‚

This reminds me of a quote by Dr. Seuss:

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What a good reminder! There is no one else who is like you. Out of the billions of people who have walked this earth, there is no one youer than you. So, be YOU and enjoy it! πŸ˜€

Check out the song, “Who Says” by Selena Gomez & The Scene that talks about not wanting to be anyone but you.

What makes you happy and thankful to be you?

P.S. Here are some funny sayings I found about introverts that are so true. Anyone else agree with me? πŸ˜‰

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5 Must-Read Quotes About Being a Writer

I must admit I’m a bit brain-drained after the first week of school, so instead of writing a full post, I decided to put together some quotes for your viewing (and hopefully, laughing) pleasure. πŸ™‚

So without further ado, here are 5 must-read quotes about the good, the bad and the ugly about being a writer:

1) The Good …

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2) More good …

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3. The Bad …

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4.  More Bad …

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5. And the Ugly …

 

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That last one is too funny! No offense to any Twilight fans out there; I myself watched two out of the three movies. Hubby told me today that he actually watched the whole trilogy – in his defense, he said he had to find out the ending of the story. πŸ˜‰

Now, moving on from vampires and werewolves … here’s a much cuter and lighthearted song for your listening pleasure – Pentatonix’s “Counts (and Sings) to Five” that they performed on Sesame Street.

What is your favorite quote (about anything)? Please share!

An Unexpected Trip to the ER and a Confession

My family and I had the pleasure of taking a short weekend getaway to a nearby beach town last weekend. It was the four of us, plus my parents and sister and brother-in-law. One weekend together staying in a quaint house should have equaled semi-rest and relaxation (after all, we had babysitters on hand); what we didn’t expect however was that it would also include a visit to the ER.

Hubby, the kids and the grandparents had settled themselves comfortably on a stretch of sand while my sister and bro-in-law had gone boogie boarding. I had been given the task of buying some beach toys because we of course had forgotten to bring our whole stash of shovels, pails and molds from home. I had just made the purchase and was returning my wallet to my purse when I decided to check my phone.

Three missed calls and one voicemail?!?! I had not even been gone for ten minutes. What could be wrong?

As I walked out of the store, I listened to the message from my mom and heard the worry in her voice as she said, “T dislocated his shoulder again! He needs to go to the hospital!”

My thought process went something like this:

AIYA! But they barely got into the water! It was probably a foreshadowing of things to come when T joked, “It was nice knowing you” right before he headed off towards the ocean. Oh dear! Where, what, how …?!?!

After a series of calls and missed calls, I finally reached my mom who told me hubby and the kids had driven our bro-in-law and my sister to the ER. I met up with my parents, and we decided to walk the 1.3 miles back to our rental house, two boogie boards and an unopened bag of sand toys in tow.

The thirty minute stroll (which could have taken twenty minutes had we thought to take a shortcut via a bridge) gave us a good opportunity to enjoy the warm sunshine. It also provided a rare chance for my parents and I to chat, just the three of us. So there we were, looking very touristy with Google maps open on my phone, walking single file up and down the narrow streets when my dad called up to me, “I told Mommy when you got married that I was worried it wouldn’t work out.”

Later on when I shared my dad’s confession with hubby, he also said, without batting an eye, “I was worried, too.”

Hm … Was I the only person who had optimistically naively thought our dating relationship, and subsequent marriage, would have a happily ever after?

Apparently, yes. πŸ˜‰

You may be wondering what all the fuss was about? Well, let’s just say that hubby and I are very different in a lot of areas, personality and dating histories being two of them. Throw in some concerned family and friends to the mix, and well, you’ve got some legitimately concerned family and friends.

Looking back, I can say I was 100% sure of my decision to marry hubby. But frankly speaking, my confidence came from a lot of unrealistic notions of love and marriage. Beliefs such as: troubles will never come our way; we will always feel loving towards each other; and we’ll always have a happy relationship (yes, I’ve needed to wean myself from an “all or nothing” mentality over the years). What I learned in the days following our wedding was the complete opposite: all couples will face troubles; there will be times when you dislike each other; and there will be plenty of moments when you drive each other bananas.

Isn't this a cute group of bananas?

Isn’t this a cute group of bananas?

The years leading up to today have included many such doses of reality. But as an older friend at church (with eleven years of marriage under his belt compared to our one at the time) once told us, “It gets better.”

It does?! If so, when? And how? His comment left me with some doubt, but also with some hope.

But he was right. Marriage does get better. With time, you really get to know your spouse, his way of thinking, doing and planning (or not planning). You grow to trust each other more. You learn to not take things so personally. You try to become a better lover and friend.

The key is that it takes time. Time to change and to see change happen. So it’s important that we be patient with our spouses and with ourselves. Our marriages are a work in progress because we are a work in progress.

On that note, my dad followed up on his confession during our walk with this: “I see how happy your (and your sister’s) marriages are and I’m not worried anymore.”

Whew. πŸ™‚

Here’s Alicia Keys’ song, “If I Ain’t Got You“, a sappy, but powerful love song. πŸ˜‰

In what ways have you seen a relationship or marriage improve over the years?

P.S. Our brother-in-law got his shoulder relocated at the hospital (his 7th time!) and has now learned how to do it himself should it ever happen again. πŸ˜›

Living in the Electronic Age

I have a love and hate relationship … with electronics. I admit I have and often still do rely on them as a form of “parenting” (ie. entertaining the kids so I can cook), and I wonder how in the world parents ever got anything done before tablets, smartphones and apps were born.

The reason I dislike electronic gadgets though is because of how they have affected the world. We cannot go anywhere these days without seeing people’s eyes and fingertips glued to their palm-sized devices, whether they’re at a restaurant eating (sometimes with a table full of people all doing the same thing!), in line at the grocery store, at the library or playground, or even walking along the street. I hate to admit it, but I am guilty of doing these things, too.

I often wonder what my munchkins think of the society they’re growing up in. They have never known a time where people didn’t carry around portable electronics or have easy access to the online world. Once when hubby and I tried to educate them about the world we grew up in, we had the following conversation.

Me: When I was a kid, we didn’t have phones you could carry with you or iPads to play with. We didn’t even have computers or the internet. We read books and played with toys and board games.

Hubby: I played outside with my friends every day.

E (with a thoughtful look on his face): But did you have electricity?

Hahaha! Of course our son would believe we’re from the Dark Ages!

Image courtesy of moggara12/freedigitalphotos.net

Image courtesy of moggara12/freedigitalphotos.net

But would being from the pre-electronic age be all that bad? Imagine a time when preoccupied drivers were only defined as those who put on their makeup or chowed down a sausage egg McMuffin during the morning commute, not those who watched the latest trending YouTube video at a red light. Or a time when people actually made eye contact and talked to each other, not to Siri. Sounds like a much safer and personally engaging world, doesn’t it? πŸ™‚

So, I am writing this post as a reminder to myself that we can live without electronic devices. That the first and last thing I do every day does not have to be checking my email or Facebook. That even though living in the electronic age can offer some convenience and sanity to me as a parent, I should not overuse it.

Because for those of us who are from the “Dark Ages”, we know it’s totally possible to survive and thrive doing things the old-fashioned way. It’s fun to talk to a friend (over the phone or in person) instead of sending a text. There is a whole world outside to explore with sunlight and fresh air and actual birds, not 140 characters, that go tweet. And kids can entertain themselves by making up stories, turning cardboard boxes into toys or playing a game of Go Fish.

On this last week of summer vacation, I’m going to try to unglue myself and the kiddos from the screen as much as possible. And we’re going to go enjoy the great outdoors and one another’s company, even if it drives us crazy (haha).

Here’s a very appropriate video featuring Bert (of Sesame Street fame) and Zachary Levi singing, “A Lovely Sunny Day“. I love how they use all sorts of electronic puns to make the song fun.

What memories do you have from living in the “Dark Ages”? Or if you were born during the electronic age, what would you do if you had to live in a world without the internet?

P.S. This post is a couple of days late because I chose to do other things while we were away on a short family trip this past weekend (ie. spend time taking a walk with hubby and talking with my parents). It was a conscious decision I had to make (and fight for mentally!) and I’m glad I made it. πŸ™‚

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