I Don’t Care

What have we come to when we’re told we shouldn’t care, or we find ourselves saying we don’t care about anyone else’s baby or how they’re raised? Why shouldn’t I care? Why exactly shouldn’t we care?

Yes, it’s not my baby, but someone else’s baby is going to grow up to be my child’s schoolmate, or best friend, boyfriend or girlfriend, the mother (or father) of his children. Someone else’s baby is going to grow up to be the policemen,  firefighter, doctor, nurse or teacher of the future. Someone else’s baby may grow up to be the man or woman who sits, faced with the decision on whether or not to wage war on another nation. My son may be that man one day. Why shouldn’t you care that how I raise him now will impact the decision he makes later? When are we allowed to start caring about someone else’s baby? Why aren’t we allowed to care now?

Society has become increasingly more selfish and insular. I, Me and Mine matters more than We, Us & Ours. We have become so quick to take offense. We raise walls preemptively in defense, and to what end? What has become of our sense of community, of our care for others, including your child as much as mine?

When you tell me that you don’t care how I raise my baby, you’re telling me that you don’t care about my son and his well being. When you tell me that I shouldn’t care about anyone else’s baby or how they’re raised, you’re telling me to be more selfish and more self-centered than I want to be.

I want my son to grow up to be the man who doesn’t hesitate to stop and help you when you collapse on the sidewalk, rather than following the crowd and stepping over you. I want him to know that I’m not the only one that cares that he grows up to be that man, and I don’t want him to be the only one in a crowd who stops to help.

Next time you’re being shouted down and told you shouldn’t care, and the next time you find yourself saying aloud that you don’t care, stop and listen to that tiny little voice deep down inside telling you that not only should you care, but that you actually do care.

Our Deepest Fear

Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won’t feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It’s not just in some of us; it’s in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.

~ Marianne Williamson

“If I’d observed all the rules I’d never have got anywhere.”

She might have left her mark on the world, but Marilyn Monroe also died of a drug overdose, alone at the age of 36.

Life Goals

I just got in from a night out with my friend Kelli to celebrate her finishing up her Masters, with a 3.9 GPA. If you know Kelli at all, she’s going to kick herself for all eternity over that .1, but I’m so very proud of her for what she’s achieved and how far she’s come with everything else going on in her life, and if you know Kelli, you know just how much that is. I don’t think she knows how to sit down and relax!

It’s funny to think how very different our lives are even though we both started off going into university/college to do the same thing. She finished her degree. I deferred mine to travel the world. She just finished her Masters, and I just finished cleaning up the mess my son made after mauling roasted potatoes into mush.

Sometimes I wish that I’d stuck it out long enough to have finished off my degree, but most of the time I wouldn’t change the way my life has gone for anything, and these days I can’t imagine living or even wanting to live a different life to the one I have.

Is it sad to sit there and feel like you wouldn’t want to be anywhere else but watching your baby boy gleefully waving around a stick of broccoli while the dog waits expectant and hopeful that he’ll get to eat what’s left over, and your husband is pulling faces and claiming that no child of his would ever love broccoli?

Anyway, congratulations Kelli. I really am proud of you and everything you’ve fought so hard for. Keep on fighting.

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The Vacuum

My first instinct is to say that I hate vacuuming, but that’s not strictly true. I just hate the idea of vacuuming, and having to drag the vacuum cleaner out, then empty it once I’m done, fold the cord up and put it away in the hall closet again. I actually sort of enjoy the act of vacuuming and find it rather zen like (Dan’s never going to let me live that confession down), and with every square inch of floor surface about to be invaded by an increasingly more mobile baby, I have little choice but to vacuum if I don’t want him to end up covered head to toe in dog hair and coughing up fur balls.

I’m not sure what Bailey thinks of the vacuum though. He never used to mind it as a puppy but then one day he decided it was the devil’s own instrument of torture and to be avoided at all costs. He would bolt when he heard it and stay far out of reach of the dreadful menace.

Lately though, I think he’s been trying to conquer his fear and has been following me around as I vacuum while maintaining a safe distance should a sudden retreat become necessary. Considering he will stand or lie down in front of it in some bizarre game of doggy chicken, he has certainly perfected the art of looking put upon when he has to move yet again out of its way.

The monkey is fascinated with the vacuum cleaner and will sit there zoned out watching it go back and forth across the floor until the cows come home. Unfortunately I don’t enjoy vacuuming that much that I am willing to use it as a form of entertainment to keep him occupied from one nap until the next. I’m just hoping his fascination holds until he’s old enough to push a vacuum cleaner around himself.

As for Dan, well I think he falls firmly in the category of  ‘vacuuming needs doing because it needs to get done.’ On the other hand, he regales me with tales of being a wee boy when his mother’s canister vacuum cleaner was a double agent, cleaning floors by day and then secretly acting as his robot dog when not in service!

Maybe I need to invest in a canister vacuum cleaner…

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Take 2

For someone that’s worked in tech support I really have no excuse other than “I’m a new mummy, when the heck do I find time!?” for having not been able to access the site/server for the past couple days when it out of nowhere started refusing to connect.

I finally took the time to call tech support on the server this morning while the monkey was napping, and lo and behold our IP had been blocked because of failed logins to the server. Doh! I would like to say that I didn’t keyboard mash in the wrong password, or at least not often enough to have warranted that, but I may have. It has been awhile since I logged in there after all.

Anyway, it’s all sorted now, and I’m back to ramble to myself. I’m going to have to get this color scheme/theme sorted soon. I don’t know what I was thinking but yellow ain’t going to cut it.

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