Thursday, February 20, 2014

Dream On, School Bus Driver

Kiddie pile
       7 a.m.  The grandmother clock above the mantle chimes the hour as the school bus barrels by our quiet house.  The sweet faces of my children flicker before my mind’s eye and I am painfully glad that they are not on that school bus.  How I would miss them!  How my life would change with them merely coming and going from our home early in the morning and late in afternoon (4 p.m.), visiting for awhile on the weekends and holidays.  No Royal or Blue to sit and chat with me after breakfast, learning their lessons and planning our day.  No Atira or Farra with whom to share the interesting bits of my day as it’s happening.  No Seth to quietly enter the room to show me his latest creation with a shy smile.  Limiting our working together on all-day-long projects, dancing together, laughing together, deciding to eat popcorn and have a Cosmos marathon all afternoon or randomly building paper maché volcanos.  Limiting the time they spend with each other when their interactions and affections are the most precious commodities our family has.
         Nope.  I’m too jealous of my children’s awesomeness to give their childhoods away for someone else to enjoy.

1 comment:

  1. We call them yellow land sharks! And, yes, netural resources are a horrible thing to allow to be raped and pillaged from a country, and, perhaps, the analogy would be consistent to children and a family. The creativity, inginuity, resourcefullness, love, excitement (etc., etc.) found in the children are too precious to lose (waste) in the institutionalized indoctrination centers serviced by the "land sharks."


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