Don't forget to have fun

My youngest brother was born when I was ten.  As he grew up, sitting, crawling, walking, talking, playing, laughing, he went through all the stages of discovery and interaction that we all do.  As I was growing older at an entirely different stage, entering adolescence, I was becoming more aware of stages, issues, futures, uncertainties.  I was starting to measure myself or my life against my observations of others.  My mother would say of each stage, oh this is the most fun age!  As I was around twelve I finally asked her, Mom, you always say that.  Which age is really the most fun?  Is there a favorite? She stopped and looked at me as if she had never thought about it before.  Finally she said, well, I guess the most fun stage is the one you're enjoying right now.   You should just enjoy whatever it is you have now and enjoy the next stage when it comes.

Imagine the gift of a mother who had true delight in watching her children learn and develop.  I'm sure I will have other stories here on other days of my wonderful, cherishing mother.  She had an Ivy League education and never felt it wasted in being home and raising six children.  When we were all in school she did go to work as a substitute teacher, where she could decline a job if we were sick or in need of her for some particular reason.  (The flip side of that, she used to say, was that if she wanted to work a particular day, no one would call her.)  When we were older she went to work full-time in our high school, running the writing lab in the early days of computers.  But we knew we were her important work.

My sister Alison has a website/blog, www.spindyeknit.com, which you might correctly assume is about knitting and fibers and such, but it is also about serious illness, whimsy, generosity, and inspiration.  She would love to meet you there if you wanted to visit.  I am including a link to a post she wrote for our mother's birthday in December of 2008.  See what a grand time we had having fun, a grand time we had because she had fun having us.

<a href="http://spindyeknit.com/2008/12/1-2-3-4-5-6-78/>here</a>

My mother's counsel was wise.  I worked hard learning to be the mom from her.  I too have six kids, and have passed along the songs, rhymes, and I hope the delights she instilled in her children.  In that vein I will offer up a poem not just for fun:

Silly Blessings

Every child deserves a silly mother—

A guardian with goofiness,

To keep him safe

And teach him well

And tickle on the floor.

It starts with little piggies

And playing –peekaboo!-

Delighted squeals should be a goal

Along with gaining skills.

Brush your teeth and stalk like tigers,

Drink your milk and swing your armtrunks,

Stomping together to be a line of elephants.

Parents come equipped with funny voices

Reading tales for bed

Or making silly songs up that extol the color red.

Give some time each day for laughter,

And play, for future’s sake.

A silly mother is a blessing,

And a silly father too.

                                   --(c)Marian J. Stoddard