The Perfect Christmas Gift

October 12, 2014 by oldageisnotforsissies54 Filed Under: Electronics & Technology, Family Life Leave a Comment

Many of us spend a lot of time looking for the best Christmas gift for our loved ones. We brave Black Friday and shop on our lunch hours, while some of us spend hours online looking for that perfect gift.

However, this year I think I may have just the right gift for my family. I got the idea when I saw this video.

The video begins with a statement asking if I knew that the average person spends four years of their life looking down at their cell phone. “How these touch screens make us lose touch…”

It occurred to me that this young man has a good point, and I’m as much to blame as the next person. Every once in a while Chuck will ask me if I have my iPad with me before we walk into a restaurant; and since I almost always do, he reaches into the backseat to get his and says that he does it out of self-defense.

I think we all ask ourselves if we spend too much time with our social media and not enough time visiting face to face. I know I do.

Near the end of this young man’s video, I thought he was going to throw his iPhone into the sea. What he does, though, is simply put his cell down and gaze at the sunset.

To me this could have been a symbol to give up all our electronic devices, but instead it symbolized his understanding–that our technology has its place. He cautions us “to be balanced, be mindful, be present, and be here.”

So as I pondered his message, and I came to a decision. I am going to put down my cell, my iPad, and turn off my computer for Christmas. It is such a wonderful time for family and friends that I want to truly be in the moment.

Starting December 22nd and ending on the 27th, I will give the following gift to my family and to myself. I plan to turn off my cell phone and iPad and leave them in my office along with my computer. I plan to stop checking my Facebook or Twitter. I plan to turn off the TV unless it is to watch a movie with family.

So what will I do with the extra time when no one is around? Maybe I’ll read more (with an old fashioned book made of paper)…

…maybe I’ll ride my bike (after I air up the tires)…

…maybe I’ll take a walk or …

…maybe I’ll invite the kids over to decorate a Gingerbread house.

Christmas, 07 007

Otherwise, an old land line at home and a “not so smart” camera will have to suffice.

“Granny, What was that Man Doing?”

September 29, 2014 by oldageisnotforsissies54 Filed Under: Family Life Leave a Comment

I fed my little grandson, age 3, his breakfast. He had been watching a basketball game on TV with his dad, who was now upstairs dressing.

I was in a room next to the living room, clearing the table, when I heard a woman screaming on the TV. I quickly dropped what I was doing and rushed to the living room where our three year old was watching a man beating the crap put of a woman. It was Sunday morning around 10 am.

I tried to quickly turn the channel. My grandson was transfixed by the action on the tube. I couldn’t find the remote and wasn’t able to turn it right away.

I freaked; and when I found a remote, it was the wrong one. Finally, I found the right one but I wasn’t sure what buttons to push. Frantic by now, I just started pushing buttons. The screaming stopped, and the picture turned to snow. I basically put their TV out of commission for a while, because no one could figure it. Dear Lord, you can’t turn your head for a minute now days.

Our three year old looked up and said, “Granny, what was that man doing?” I think I may have made it worse, because I told him that the man was a bad man, and that he shouldn’t be watching that stuff.

Life was so much simpler for my mother’s generation. At my home there was only one TV station, and CBS was all we could get. Cartoons were a Saturday morning treat. There was a local show by a clown after school but it only lasted 30 minutes. I remember coming home early one afternoon, and mom caught me watching “The Secret Storm”. She freaked much like I did today.

When my kids grew up, there was Seseme Street on PBS, and Mr. Rogers and Fraggle Rock on HBO, but nothing else was on. And there was little violence even after late night tv. It was easier to control.

Now, I see kids watching TV all day, and violence is on 24-7.

I loved the horror films of the 60s, but The Exorcist kept me from sleeping for days.

This is ultra worse, and kids have so much access. It is frightening, especially with kids acting out in public with shootings and much more!

How do young women control what their kids see on TV today?

Villages Then & Now

July 31, 2014 by oldageisnotforsissies54 Filed Under: Family Life, This & That Leave a Comment

I just read an article in the Huffington Post entitled “I Miss the Village” by Bunmi Laditan. She misses the village that she never had where women worked side by side, telling stories, sharing their children and helping each other without having to be asked. It is a good thought, but as I read her article another picture of a village kept getting in the way of this wonderful romantic notion.

I do a lot of genealogy, and my first thoughts were about those early ancestors of mine who migrated into Florida in the 1830s. As I read the young woman’s romanticized description of how mothers would take care of each other and their children, I also thought about my fifth great grandmother who moved with her husband and family along with several of their older sons and their families.

They pushed back the briars, palmettos, native people and the jungle-like vegetation to plant their crops and build their homes. Their homes were made of logs and their ceilings were high because hot air rises and that was what Florida was back then–hot, sweltering heat.

Florida Memory Photographic Collection

I remember my mother talking about how the older ones swept the sand around the outside of their home to the edge of the woods. Their yards were made of sand, and they swept it much like we rake our yards. The sweeping served two purposes. One was the threat of fire, which would strike from the pine woods after the frequent lightning storms. The sandy barrier around the house gave them some sort of fire lane protection. The other purpose was so you could see the tracks of a snake or other animal that had made it way under and sometimes into the house.

My fifth great grandmother’s husband died shortly after they moved here. The probate papers had a doctor’s bill that showed where quinine and sulfa were used, so we’re fairly sure it was malaria or some other type of fever. All of a sudden, she was alone in her home with the last of your children. Thankfully, her sons and daughters were nearby with children of their own. As a grandmother and a mother, there probably wasn’t much time for fresh bread and tea in the afternoons.

My Great Great Grandmother

You see, women back then were pregnant from the time they married until they either stopped ovulating or died.

My grandmother’s mother died shortly after the fifth baby was born. She hemorrhaged while standing over her newborn baby. She was changing his diaper, and she started bleeding uncontrollably. She died before they could get help.

Another third great grandfather died while the natives were trying to regain their lands. There were reports in the territorial Tallahassee paper of many burnings and massacres in his area. We have no proof he lost his life in one of these, but the probate began just after the massacres ended. The massacres lasted for several weeks, where homes were burned, people were killed and crops were destroyed. He must have died suddenly, because there were no doctor bills in his probate file.

I guess what I’m saying is that I don’t miss this village. I am thankful that I had ancestors who were so strong willed and diligent, and that I didn’t have to do this.

The village in my past was a difficult place to live, raise children and survive. I’m wondering if hers was probably not much better.

So instead, I’m hesitant to mention the shortcomings of life as we know it today, because what my ancestors lived through was nothing short of a miracle. They survived.

My Great Great Grandparents and their adult children,

However, I still see Mrs. Laditan’s point; and I too would have liked to have had someone close by to help.

So let’s cut to the chase. It would be wonderful if we could reach out more and help each other. So what is keeping us apart?

I imagine that the very things that make our great state so livable now days are the same things that make us wrap ourselves into our own little cocoons of living space.

Air conditioning and television are two examples that come to mind. We spend hours watching TV instead of visiting our neighbors. We lock our doors and windows, and the world passes by.

To get the feeling of what it was like to raise children fifty years ago or more, turn off your TV, open your windows and send your kids outside. That is what my mom did.

Florida Memory Photographic Collection

But……..yes, I can hear you from here! We wouldn’t do this. Children have to be watched closely. They cannot grow up on their own like we used to do. And there is the safety issue.

Let’s face it. Most of us live where we cannot let our children roam freely.

The village where I was raised and the one I raised my children in was exactly like that, except we did have air conditioning and TVs. However, I was raised to get the kids out of the house, and I did. The difference was where I lived. Small towns are great places to raise kids.

Most people live in cities today, though; and the village we romanticize isn’t an option. And that is a sad thought.

Caterwauling Not Allowed!!

July 9, 2014 by oldageisnotforsissies54 Filed Under: Family Life, Opinion 2 Comments

We Floridians love our fresh waters, as much or more than our beaches. In the hot, sweltering summer time, nothing is more refreshing than a dip in one of our beautiful springs. This is where we go to really cool off.

Some of us grew up with little beach houses, but more of us grew up with lake and river houses. My parents owned a place on a nearby lake, and it represented my childhood weekends and holidays of fishing, skiing, catching lightning bugs and hours of hanging out on a raft. It was spring fed.

Our children got to enjoy the old lakehouse, too, until they were early teenagers when it burned. It was a great loss to our entire extended family, and we all grieved. My brothers and I still own the property, but no one ever rebuilt.

Now our children are in their late 30s, and we just came back from a weekend at that same lake. It included Harold and me, plus all three kids and their families. Eight adults and six grandchildren all stuffed into two rented lake houses, sitting next door to each other. What a wonderful long weekend.

Each family was in charge of three meals, and there were baby gates everywhere for the safety of the kids. Constantly stepping over those gates was like negotiating an obstacle course.

Having five toddlers in the family is fun and exhilarating. The oldest of the five wears a 4T, and they are all girls. Their exuberance for life is catching.

However, six toddlers also means six times the whining and crying. All except the oldest had one or more meltdowns, which brings me to the point of this blog.

When toddlers today are unhappy, they cry—no, actually it is more than that, they cry and whine for what seems like forever. Here’s my question, is it ok for them to cry and whine until they are driving everyone, including their parents, insane?

On Sunday, just before we left, the four-year-old wanted a toy that her three-year-old sister had. The toy belonged to the three year old. The four year old complained to her parents, and they said that she had to wait until the other child was done with it. That is when the crying and whining began. When no one paid attention, it grew to loud squalling.

They sent her to upstairs to a bedroom, but you could hear it anyway. It got even louder. Finally, she stopped and wandered back to where her sister was still playing with the toy. A fight erupted, and she was told to back down again. The squalling started again; and she was sent to her room, yet again. We listened to her caterwauling for what seemed like forever. Everyone in the house was on edge.

Meanwhile, Harold was loading the dishwasher and was having trouble getting it to close. He lost his temper and slammed it, breaking a dish. This from a man who hardly ever loses his temper, but the constant crying had been going on for over fifteen minutes, which is forever in toddler time.

The four-year-old caterwauler wasn’t the only one. It had happened to almost every one of these kids over the long weekend.

I finally couldn’t contain myself, and said something. I turned to my daughter and said, “were you ever allowed to cry like that?” She stared back somewhat hostile and said, “no, you would say, dry it up.” One of our daughters-in- law looked at me surprised and confused. I told her that I was brought up to believe that crying, when it became annoying to adults, wasn’t allowed.

In fact I remember my grandmother mentioning to my parents that it seemed a shame that they spanked us and then wouldn’t even let us cry. That wasn’t entirely the truth. We cried; and then when it went on too long, we were told that it was enough. I do remember them telling us to hush up or they would give us something to cry about. Harold said that it was the same in his family.

Oh, and that same grandma pulled so many switches off a bush outside her house that it was stunted for life. She would grab me by a pigtail and switch all the time yelling for me to keep still. Like I was going to stay still so she could get a better aim?

We brought our kids up the same way. Crying wasn’t an option when it became annoying. There was no time out. There was simply me and Harold, the kids, discussions about what they did wrong (sometimes an angry in your face discussion), and finally a smack on the hand or butt. The belt was only used for major infractions, and it was the best tool I had for keeping the kids in line.

Harold made it clear to the kids that if I needed him to, that he would take a belt to them when he got home after work. I remember on numerous occasions, when we were having a truly difficult day, saying “If you don’t straighten up, when your dad gets home I’m gonna get him to get his belt.” For about an hour, they would be angels. I think each kid can only remember about a half dozen of those belt moments over the years.

Now, we have to sit in restaurants and other public places and listen to these whining, melt downs from other people’s kids. Harold and I have talked about how there seems to be so many more of these than there used to be.

We can only remember one or two kids in our respective towns that behaved like this. They were usually the kids of a family that was wealthy, and most of the rest of us in town thought that these kids were neglected. Now I’m beginning to think that it might have been the opposite. Maybe, they were given too much of everything—too many toys and too much attention. Or maybe their parents were reading too many “how to” books.

My daughter and daughters-in-law all took the time to study these books written by professionals on how to raise their children. I’m wondering how many of these people employ nannies and maids.

I read Dr. Spock’s book myself, the book that all the mothers in my generation read. The difference is that I decided to take and use only some of the suggestions. I actually liked the way my parents and I turned out, so I used mostly what I learned from them when it came to discipline. I never thought about not spanking my kids.

For some of us, not disciplining our kids would be lazy and dangerous. I wonder what will really happen when you tell a kid today to stop when he or she is in danger. Will they listen?

Here’s how I would have handled the earlier two siblings squabbling over the toy. First, I don’t care whose toy it is. The first little girl would have had the right to play with the toy while the second one would get to “count her out”. I would have told the second one to count to 30, and when she got to 30, it would be her turn to play. Then vice-versa until they tired of the game. Of course, you might have to help them count to 30; but they would learn in due time.

If the second one (or the first) just wanted to continue crying. I would have told her just once to quit her bellyaching. The second time I had to tell her, I would have said that if she doesn’t stop crying then I would give her something to cry about. After another 15 or 20 seconds of this, she would get a spanking and again told to dry it up. No smiling, no giggling, no hesitation—I always meant business and the kids knew it. That usually took care of the problem.

Then consistency is the most important thing. You cannot let them get away with it again. No “annoying” crying allowed from then on.

Of course, when they get to be teenagers, all bets are off.

So I’m interested in how other seniors think? How were you raised and how did you raise your kids? Would you do it any differently? Should kid’s annoying whining and crying be allowed? How do you stop it?

Who Are We Hiding From?

June 25, 2014 by oldageisnotforsissies54 Filed Under: Family Life Leave a Comment

This young woman made some interesting points in her blog post. Entitled “Who Are We Hiding From?”, she raises a question that I for one never thought about. So many in suburbia have privacy fences, but it wasn’t always that way. Please read. The link is below.

http://theuncoordinatedmommy.com/hiding/

Mother’s Day from a Different Perspective – a Reblog from Jana’s Thinking Place

May 9, 2014 by oldageisnotforsissies54 Filed Under: Family Life Leave a Comment

One of my followers sent me this. What a touching story.

http://www.bloglovin.com/frame?blog=2790682&group=0&frame_type=b&frame=1&click=0&user=0

One Stunning Parental Role Model

March 14, 2014 by oldageisnotforsissies54 Filed Under: Family Life 2 Comments

Every child needs a role model, and so do parents. Harry Connick, Jr. the former judge on “American Idol” is in my opinion a good parent’s role model.

My Chuck better watch out, because he’s got some competition. I used to watch American Idol, and I fell in love with Harry! Harry Connick, Jr., that is.

He’s certainly easy on the eyes; but I really noticd him when he began to be honest, forthright and constructive with the young contestants. He wasn’t brutal like Simon; nor did he sugar coat it like Randy. He seemed to have just the right touch. When they added him to sweet J. Lo and wonderfully authentic Keith, the mix between that year’s judges seemed just right.

Speaking Honestly

Later I noticed that Harry was a family man. Or at least that is how he appeared. But he really won me over when someone said that the judges needed to resist being cruel. I guess Harry thought they aimed the comment at him, because he said that he wasn’t being cruel, just honest.

Hooray for Harry! Finally, someone who speaks honestly. With all this PC talk, it seems as if no one speaks honestly anymore.

When Parents Don’t Deal Honestly

We all just shake our heads, when these clueless, tone-deaf young people come to “Idol” to auditioon. Surely someone in their family noticed that John or Mary cannot sing, and yet there stand the parents to comfort him or her when the frustrated kid walks out crying.

Some really act up, as if they were still toddlers. This type of “stand by your child no matter what” type of parenting doesn’t really help these kids.

I also wondered who paid to get them to the audition in the first place. What happened to talking honestly with your kids, even about their shortcomings? What happened tomrefusing to fund a shortcoming? And come to think of it—what happened to honest parenting?

We are doing our kids a disservice when we encourage them to win for the sake of winning, when we give them trophies just for trying, or when we look the other way when their behavior is inappropriate. Many of these kids never quite understand why they don’t fit into social circles. And to make matters worse, some are taught to have an attitude when they don’t as if that makes it all ok in the end.

Be a Parent First and Foremost

It might be considered cool to parent like this in some circles; but from where I hail, it is simply considered lazy parenting. It is so much easier to be your kid’s friend, than to be your kid’s parent.

There are no perfect parents, but there are those who really try–who consistently try. They know that parenting is hard, around-the-clock work. One of our kids was more difficult to raise, and there were many times that we wanted to give up and say “what’s the use.” We kept trying though until she finally left home for college, and even then it wasn’t quite over.

Strive to be a Good Role Model

Please America, wake up and teach your children well. How many young adults do you know who have messed up their lives, due to poor judgment. How many chances have they missed?

How many are still living with their parents, instead of gaining independence and reaching for their own ambitions? How many are floundering in a sea of debt from college loans–another example of poor judgment passed on fromall of us parents?

My mother once said that as a parent my number one job was to raise my children to be independent adults. She didn’t have to tell me to love them. She knew I would fall hopelessly in love with every one of them. No, she reminded me that it was my job to make sure they survived; and she wasn’t just talking about food, clothing and shelter.

If we really want our kids to succeed, then we have to be their role models. We have to remember that we are not only teaching them to mature and become functioning adults, we are also teaching them how to teach the next generation. It is an awesome responsibility.

A Role Model in the Entertainment Industry

Thank you, Harry, for saying what everyone else in the entertainment industry isn’t saying. The entertainment community is littered with young people who feel hopeless and out of place in life. What a breathe of fresh air to have one of their own who publicly exercises good judgment and talks about it honestly.

Thank you for being a role model–maybe even a good role model for parents.

So I was already in love with Harry, and then he performed last night! I loved it! What an entertainer. Good looks! A good character! A Role Model! This renaissance man is hot!

What’s the Difference Between a SAHWM and a AFHWM?

March 10, 2014 by oldageisnotforsissies54 Filed Under: Family Life Leave a Comment

I learned the meaning of a new acronym SAHWM. A blogger named Anna at In Honor Of Design used it in one of her posts.

SAHWM means “stay at home working mother.” I have three in my family–two daughters and a daughter-in-law; and they don’t have it any easier than I did, though I was a mostly an AFHWM “away from home working mother”. All three of my daughters either have businesses that they operate out of their homes, or they are bloggers. One does both. All three struggle to balance their child-rearing, work, and housekeeping.

Jamie, Tracy & January

I Was a AFHWM

By the way, I was not a SAHWM most of my child-rearing days; though, I did it for three years with my first child Jamie, who is in the top photo. I owned a florist, and she was there day in and day out as a toddler. During the first years, the florist was downtown; but I finally moved it into my home for the last year and a half.

My days were at least ten hour days, as florist work is long and demanding. I finally sold the florist and took a full-time job just to get back to regular hours and to make more money. We wanted to go on vacations and belong to the country club and play golf and tennis, so I felt I had to go to work.

At my new job I worked at the end of a 30-minute commute each way. The hours were 7.5 a day, but I made a good salary. I had sick leave and vacation leave and other good benefits. I kept the kids in daycare and enjoyed those precious kid-free hours away from arguing, crying, and general house wrecking.

Dinner was cooked as soon as I walked in the door. I house cleaned at night after the kids went to bed and got up an hour before anyone else to exercise and have a few minutes of peace and quiet while I enjoyed my breakfast. I lived on about six to seven hours of sleep a night for many years.

Me and my girls, Tracy & Jamie

My commute was almost a meditation. I remember the solitude of my car. There was a point in the road halfway between Monticello and Tallahassee that held significance. On my way from work to home, I realized that I left the hassles of work behind by the time I reached that point. The opposite was the same. The pressures of home seemed to melt away going the opposite direction.

Finally, my kids entered those special years of teenage puberty; and I needed to be home more, so I worked jobs that allowed me to work from home. I was then a SAHWM. As they got older and began driving I went back to college, eventually getting my Ph.D.

So as you can see, I was the flip side of the SAHWM for most of my kids’ years at home. I was a AFHWM, an “away from home working mother.”

We Are All WMs

Our commonality is that all of us are still WMs. We are all working mothers.

I believe, though, that my mother had it the best. I grew up next to my grandmother, a wonderful role model and provider. My mom went to work full-time when I was about 3-4 years old, but I never went to daycare. My grandmother watched after me.

Me and my Grandmother Roe

She home preschooled me. I can still remember the blackboard on her sleeping porch. She taught me my numbers, my abc’s, and how to tie my shoes before I ever got to kindergarten. I wish she had lived long enough to see me get my Ph.D.

She was super old fashioned having been born in the 1890s. She taught me etiquette and how to play in a dress without ever showing my panties. I’m sure I slipped up, but not without embarrassment if I knew it.

Yes, she even taught me guilt, something that I resented when I was younger because I thought it held me back. Now, though, I welcome it as a comfortable barometer–a good part of growing older I guess.

I never resented Mom’s work. We grew up knowing that her salary paid for vacations, dancing and piano lessons, cheerleading uniforms, 4-H camp, and much more.

Pam, Mom & Me

So you see, I had the best of both worlds–two moms. Grandmother was my SAHWM, and mom was my AFHWM. Still, both of them were simply working mothers.

What kind of mother did you have, a SAHWM or an AFHWM? What role if any did your grandmother(s) play in your raising? What kind of mother are you today?

Taking Joy in Life is a Woman’s Best Cosmetic

February 12, 2014 by oldageisnotforsissies54 Filed Under: Family Life 3 Comments

Sometimes life deals us a solid blow, but woman’s best cosmetic is remembering the joy and letting go of the sadness. It is important to always count your blessings.

I’m sad today, because I lost another friend. I say another because I lost a life-long, childhood girlfriend almost a decade ago; but that is another blog. Today, this is about Lisa.

Lisa and I met through work back in the 1980s. We were kindred spirits. We both were small town girls living in a big city. We came from such small towns that we both thought Tallahassee was big.

She was a single woman, after a divorce; and I was a married woman, on my way to a divorce. I remember when I asked her to dinner at my home one evening. My soon to be ex-husband complained about the food right in front of her. He didn’t want spaghetti that night. She didn’t bad mouth him then, but about eighteen months later after he moved out, I found out that she wanted to punch him in the face.

Because of our work, we traveled together. Traveling with her was such an adventure. The piles of luggage alone were comical. She always wore way too much makeup, but I never said anything. I didn’t need to, because her mother did that enough.

Lisa traveled with a plastic fishing tackle box full of face creams, eye shadows, lipsticks, and anything else she thought she might need. She traveled like someone out of “Downton Abbey”, but without a porter. One good steamer trunk might have sufficed, but I’m not sure.

We partied hard, talked about everything, shared clothes, and dreamed dreams. One time we were at dinner in a very nice restaurant. I had trouble cutting my prawn, when my hand slipped and my surf flew out of my plate. She casually leaned down and retrieved my shrimp out of her shoe.

The girl had taken off her shoes in this very nice eating establishment; but she never missed a beat when she said with a wink, “I guess you can take the girl out of the country, but you can’t take the country out of the girl.” Of course, she meant both of us. There were some puzzled looks around the table, but she kept my secret. We laughed and laughed over that one.

Moving Apart

Finally, we moved on with our lives. She left and moved back to her hometown. We both remarried. For the next twenty years, we kept up with each other over the phone. Every once in a while, we got together again; and it was like we never parted.

One morning I got a phone call from her oldest daughter. Lisa passed away three days before. Her daughter was so apologetic. They already held her service; and in the calm of the aftermath, someone finally remembered to give me a call.

I cannot blame them for forgetting. They’re all young girls in the prime of their lives with young children of their own. It was truly a shock. Lisa had a massive heart attack.

It is so sad to lose an old friend. I’m sitting here, remembering all the good times we had together. She was the epitome of something Rosalind Russell said, “Taking joy in life is a woman’s best cosmetic.” Lisa was once the joy in my life.

Thank goodness for wonderful memories that sustain us for when life moves on.

OLD AGE IS NOT FOR SISSIES

NOTHING IN LIFE IS TO BE FEARED