Kids
When my girls were little, we decided they should have a pet. Bob and I liked cats, and instead of one, we ended up with two white cats. A male and a female. Little did we know what that would start. By the time we decided we didn’t want more cats, we had probably had a couple of dozen. They were farm cats, since we lived out in the country, but they were pets nevertheless.
Those first two cats were named Pest and Tumbleweed. Corrie and Amy had such a great time with them. We all did really. Their antics were a source of laughter for all of us. They would sneak up on each other, pounce, and then jump straight up in the air.
Amy was just a little teeny girl, but she loved the cats so much, and she wanted to carry them around. So she would pick both of them up around the middle at the same time. Now this worked pretty well for Pest, our female, but Tumbleweed was bigger than Pest, and heavier. The next time I looked, She was carrying Tumbleweed by the neck, because he had slid down. He was such a patient cat. He just looked at her as if to say, “Please don’t choke me little girl.” But he never scratched her or bit her. He loved the attention, so he put up with the little inconveniences. And no matter how many times I tried to rescue poor Tumbleweed…the next time I looked, he was in the same precarious position again, only moments later.
Tumbleweed always had to be in the middle of things. He liked to see what Bob was doing. Whenever Bob was working on a car, Tumbleweed had to be involved. If Bob was working on top of the car engine, Tumbleweed would perch on the air cleaner, as if he were the supervisor. And if Bob was under the car…well, Tumbleweed had to be right beside him, head to head, both looking at the “problem” to see what the solution would be. Tumbleweed was a pretty good mechanic.
I just love the antics of cats…always have. They have such great personalities. And if you are having a bad day, you can take a moment to watch two cats at play, knowing that it is a sure way to put a smile on your face.
I was thinking tonight about the next generation. Oh, I know, everyone thinks I’m going to complain about their dress, or attitude, or some other such thing, and while I would agree that those things can be annoying sometimes, that isn’t what I’m thinking about tonight. What came to my mind is the simple fact that at some point we will be passing the baton to this next generation.
Many people would cringe at the very thought, and when I think about some of the kids I see, I might have a tendency to join them in that. But we really can’t judge the kids by what they are today, because tomorrow, when responsibility hits them full force, they will change in a moment, just like we did. There isn’t one adult today, who can honestly say that their parents liked the way they dressed, the music they listened to, or the friends they had. They might have liked some things, but not all. And what parent hasn’t made mention of the dreaded next generation and scowled.
Well, just as we were that dreaded next generation and we changed into the establishment of today, so they will become the establishment of tomorrow, and they will look at their children and their friends as the next generation. And they will hope that as they changed into responsible adults, their kids will do the same.
As we did, most kids will grow into responsible adults. If we can instill in them the values we were raised with, and couple that with love and a respect for their feelings, most kids will blossom into adults that we can be very proud of. Kids are looking for approval…from someone. Now I don’t say to pretend that you love their clothes or music or attitude, but when they do something worthy of praise, don’t forget to praise them for it. If you don’t give positive reinforcement, they will act out to get your attention. We can’t be absent from their childhood and expect them to be great adults. We must love and encourage our kids, and most importantly keep their lives in prayer, because that is the most important thing we can do for them.
When I was a little girl, we had the most amazing German Shepherd dog ever. His name was King…for short. My parents actually named him LarKing Raesuekayal Vonlished. I can’t say for sure that I spelled that correctly, but if you sound it out, you will come pretty close to the correct pronunciation of his name. King was named after all for my sisters and me. Middle names were used for the three older girls, and the first part of the first name on my younger two sisters. Mom and Dad wanted his name to have special meaning. And it always has.
King was just about the greatest dog ever. When we were little he gave us girls “horsey” rides, and seemed to love doing it. He was very loving. King loved having the neighborhood kids come in to play, but we did have to tell them not to climb the fence without one of us girls there. Dad trained him not to bite obviously, but even more, you could put your arm in his mouth, and he would never even let his teeth touch your arm. But when it came to protecting his family, watch out. He wouldn’t have to bite…his bark was usually enough. He did bite one time, when a neighborhood boy was throwing rocks at him…boy was he in trouble with his mom when she found out. She wouldn’t even let the police issue any kind of ticket or warning, of course there was the required quarantine, but that was all.
The funniest thing King ever did though, was one time when my mom’s dad came over for a visit. Mom was on the phone when Grandpa knocked on the door. She motioned him to come in, and went on with her conversation. A few minutes later, she realized that he hadn’t come in. Thinking that he hadn’t heard, she motioned again. Then, she realized what the problem was. King was “guarding” the door. She said, “King, you let him in!!” She said it was the only time she had seen a dog smile. King sheepishly looked away, with a grin on his face, and my grandfather was able to come inside. I really miss that dog!!
In a world filled with reasons to rush here and there, we seldom have the time to see what is really important. Most families have no choice but to have two incomes, meaning many parents can’t attend many events that their children are involved in. Children are coming home to an empty house and no supervision. Homework gets pushed to later in the day, especially if parental help is needed at all, because by the time the parents get home, get dinner made, and get started helping with homework, it is almost time for bed.
Where did the day go? And for that matter, when you think about it, the weeks and years seem to fly by. Before we know it, our children are grown up, and we find out that we have missed all those precious years. And the sad thing is that there often isn’t any solution to it. Parents can’t make ends meet without two incomes, and times are tough. And so the important things must once again be pushed to the background, so we can make enough to support our families.
So, is there a solution? Probably not entirely, but if we do our best to find a way to make as many moments as possible, we will find that we aren’t missing out on as much as before. There is a song by George Strait that goes like this, “Life’s not the breaths you take but the moments that take your breath away.” It is about doing your best not to miss the important moments. Make as many games as you can. Go to their concerts. Make the moments you can make, so they know that when you can’t make an event, it isn’t because you don’t want to be there.
Since I have been thinking about old times, I thought a few of the funny things that have happened might be interesting. My sisters and I are no different than I’m sure most of you are, and when you get 5 girls together, and then the neighbor kids, and a few cousins…well, it is a recipe for either disaster, or the funniest stories ever.
One that keeps coming to my mind, is the time my cousin Forest was over at our house, and all of us kids decided to play Hide and Seek. I can’t say for sure how old I was, but I couldn’t have been more that 5 or 6. Forest, who was the same age as I was, and I couldn’t figure out where to hide. So being the “helper” she was, my sister Cheryl, who was two years older than we were, decided to help us out. In our garage was a clothes dryer. It was one of those old style dryers with a window in front. So, Cheryl said, “Here, climb in and I’ll shut the door softly so it doesn’t close all the way.” Well, as you can imagine, Forest and I, trusting as we were, climbed right in. Cheryl slammed the door and said, “I’m going to turn it on.” We started screaming, and she started laughing. It didn’t take very long to realize that since it was out in the garage…it wasn’t plugged in! My sisters and I were always trying to see if we could pull one over on each other…good one, Cheryl. I still laugh about that every time I think about it!!
My sisters and I are all very good friends now, but as children, there were…shall we say…cat fights!!! Now these weren’t the type you might think. When we got mad at each other, we literally took matters into our own hands. We scratched, bit, hit, and pulled hair. We all had long hair, so hair pulling worked very well. After a few minutes into a fight, you would find both of us holding a handful of hair, and the attached head, firmly planted against the floor. Neither of us would give up, but we didn’t mind screaming so loudly that my mother finally had to come in and put a stop to it. We must have driven her crazy!! I’m sure you have all seen your share of sibling fights, but the is nothing quite as funny as two stubborn girls holding each other’s head to the floor by the hair and refusing to let go. Again, I laugh about that every time I think about it.
And here’s one last story I wanted to tell you about, and it is perhaps the funniest one of all. My parents had gone to the Fireman’s Ball, which they don’t have anymore, but used to be a big deal. My older sister Cheryl was babysitting the rest of us, and since it was going to be late when Mom and Dad came home, we had all gone to bed. Suddenly, we heard what sounded like the livingroom picture window crashing in. Cheryl jumped out of bed and ran out into the livingroom to see what was going on. I promptly pulled the blankets over my head as a form of “self preservation” I suppose, and my sister Alena started laughing. What is so funny, you might wonder. Well, Alena’s bed had a metal frame, and stuck between the bed frame and the wall was a metal Chinese Checkers board, which Alena had kicked, causing the crashing noise we heard. Way to go Alena…but then we all know that with your sense of humor, you had probably planned it and only got the reaction you had hoped for.
Yes, growing up with four sisters, a multitude of cousins and neighborhood kids was quite an adventure, to say the least. These are just three of the many stories I could tell. We often tried to outdo each other with our pranks and antics. Sometimes I wonder how we managed to survive without being choaked by our parents.
