Watching my kids first hand growing up with experiences, and a family dynamic that I didn’t have is… conflicting. On one hand we’ve strived to give them a stable, loving family community with options, and a variety of activities to pursue, and on the other hand I feel as sense of mild resentment that my own early childhood did not contain such things. Oh to be a kid again, remain in the same house year over year, build friendships from Kindergarten, have close family around endlessly, be interwoven into the community via Fairs, the School, and athletic endeavours. Seems nice. I wish I’d had some/more of it myself. Tough pill to swallow that. Giving somebody else that which you didn’t have yourself. I love it for them. I am also saddened to have not had it myself. Is that paradoxical? Maybe that’s not the right term.
We are effusive with love, and time spent, but I’m not rich so material wealth isn’t something I can lavish upon them. I hope that the warm and loving years before five that last the rest of their lives thing is true. I always had time, if nothing much monetarily to give to both kids. I worked during naps, and at night, so I have not been a major earner in quite some time. Not that I ever really was. I capped out at $75K once nearly a decade ago, and that didn’t last. Chasing dollar-dollar bills y’all never worked for me. But this isn’t about money, not really. I agree that experiences cost money.
Being open to carting your kids from one thing to another nightly, across town, and to different cities is expensive. I don’t know that I missed out on money related things as a kid, so much as parents whom WANTED to do those things with you, for you, after a full days work. Maybe that WAS asking too much of two full time working parents that commuted daily. Seems weird they’d pay for us to join a club, but balk at the idea of getting us to/from there. Guess I should have sorted out the public transit system when I was six to take myself places. Perhaps that was my own narrow view of how I was supposed to navigate the community spaces around me. Walk, yup, bicycle, certainly, get driven, ok, bus? Not until I was in 7th grade and a pass came as part of my student card did the bus even enter my mind as a thing I would do. Perhaps I wasn’t imaginative enough to work it out myself. Could very well be. Perhaps missing out on soccer practices, games, and the awards ceremonies were my fault because I didn’t think to hop on a bus before I was ten. My privilege is showing me up! I guess if I couldn’t walk there, or ride my bike there I felt I should get driven there. I should be kicking myself for not considering that as a viable option. D’oh!
Either way, I didn’t grow up with a cottage, water sports, access to a snowmobile, farm lands, swimming pool, sauna, hot tubs and the like. I envy my kids childhoods just a bit. Not enough that it becomes a barrier to us bonding, or having a great time, but enough that sometimes I think, “man I wish I could have done some of this as a kid!”. I recognize it. And I’m working through it. Obviously. Ha.
So it’s Wednesday, and my sore forearm, hand, elbow, tendons are still a little fried, but I think I can get back to work today. I don’t know if I fell on it, or bumped it yesterday, but man, spending the last 16 hours with a numb right hand, wrist, forearm, and fingers was unpleasant to say the least. I think I used the Weedeater for too long and aggravated my trigger finger issues from my twenties working 10 hour days using a weed eater on the boulevards of Brampton. Working in a factory prior to that didn’t help much with how repetitive the motions were pulling medical supplies off of an injection moulding machine. The hands, they give me trouble sometimes. The right one mostly. It being the dominant one. For now atleast.
Happy Hump-Day. Ciao Bella.
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