Reflections

I realize the kind of post I want to write tonight is not really the kind of post that's much fun to read. No cute pictures of my cute cute kid or house updates or anything like that.

I really just wanted to comment on the status of my life. Moving to Phoenix was a bigger adjustment that I had realized at the time. I don't regret at all the decision to move here but having lived in Tucson for almost ten years and having settled into what was a routine there, it was a bit difficult to get used to being here.

But I've been here ten months and I can say I love it! I love being so close to a side of my family that I didn't used to see very much. I love making new friends, reconnecting with old ones, experiencing all the Valley has to offer. I still miss my friends and the familiarity of Tucson but I'm really getting the hang of it here.

I also wanted to talk about parenting. It's kinda funny how so much of our parenting is done almost as an after thought - a reaction instead of a deliberate action. We want our kids to feel what we feel because it validates our thoughts and ideas - whether they are ones that should be validated or not. And it can be very easy to manipulate them into that. It requires a deliberate, thoughtful approach and an honest look at what we want vs. what's best to kinda snap out of it and make the best choices. And even then, what we want can sometimes be so overpowering for us that that's just what we end up going with.

I've come to some peace over the aspects of the parenting of my son (especially ones out of my control) with this thought - we all have screwed up childhoods. Or not. It depends more on our view of it than of the actual event. You can look back and remember every horrible detail of why your life was so hard and so hurtful and.... Or you can see the funny stories, the laughter, the love, the companionship. It really is a choice. And while it really is my responsibility to do my best to raise my son with his own moral compass and an ability to see things clearly and realistically, I do believe it is also my job to teach him optimism and how to selectively remember the things will make life pleasant.

We've made it a nightly tradition to tell each other stories. He's pretty funny because he'll tell me stories about how when he was grown up and I was a baby and he used to bring me flowers.... I love it! But I tell him stories from my childhood - about the waterbed mattresses that we filled with air and were bounced off of by older siblings... or the tree in the lot across the street that we used to climb on during winter and pretend it was a horse with someone down on the ground pulling branches to make it swing up and down... or about the chickens that we had and the time when my dad cut all their heads off and those crazy headless chickens chased around the whole yard.

I don't think I'm living in denial. I know things weren't perfect. But I do know my parents loved me and they tried their best in raising me... and I hope my own son will recognize that too as he grows up... and lets go of the things that hurt and hold tight to the things that make him giggle!!