Friday, September 7, 2012

September 7th, Later

So, I'm trying to write these darn mini essays required for the print profile, but I decided to stop that for a moment and write a completely unnecessarly blog instead, because that's just easier.

In addition to writing an unnecessary blog, I'm also managing to fail horribly at multiple games of Mahjong Titans.

In between the hunt for the elusive and vital west wind piece and the tweaking of this blog, I sometimes hammer out a sentence or two on various Highly Recommended topics, one of which is: What it Means to be Parents and What We Like Most or Expect to Like Most About Being Parents.

And yes, that is the title.

I get so tempted to go all sarcastic on them. It's the contrary streak in me that does this.

What I contrarily want to write is:

"We are looking forward to being sleep deprived to point of hallucination, smelling like spit up and having every bit of counter space taken up with bottle paraphernalia that must be cleaned with something that looks like a torture device.

"We also look forward to the joys of teething, exploding diapers, trips to the emergency rooms, the remarks of parents of other children who are all progressing at remarkable rates, possibly playing Beethoven at nine months of age.

"Personally speaking, I really look forward to finally taking a stand in some of these epic Mommy wars that have been raging all around me, in which I have been persona non grata these many years. I will pick my side and then I will pick apart any poor excuse for a mother who doesn't agree with my side, using rhetoric, questionable statistics and shame.

"Once our little darling enters school, we look forward to being extremely poor, spending the equivalent of week's worth of vacation on school supplies and one pair of sneakers that will get ruined one month later.

"Also, I'm sure we will enjoy parent-teacher meetings, play dates, and what I learned on the  playground and am now going to repeat to you in front of Grandma moments.

"The next day, they learn to drive, want a tongue piercing and absolutely nothing to do with us. Shortly thereafter, they leave for college with our entire life savings. We really look forward to that part.

"All in all, we are sure that parenting is going to be an all hands on deck kind of wild ride, and we look forward to every one of its sticky and fleeting moments."

-The Expecting-to-Like-Being-Parents Indiana Household

See, that only took me like, two minutes write. That flowed. Only, I'm sure that's longer than two hundred and fifty words, so... I guess I'll have to try again.

What I really want to do is to sum up the entire essay by this one quote from Kahlil Gibran:

"Your children are not your children.
They are the sons and daughters of Life's longing for itself.
They come through you but not from you,
And though they are with you yet they belong not to you.

You may give them your love but not your thoughts,
For they have their own thoughts.
You may house their bodies but not their souls,
For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow,
which you cannot enter, not even in your dreams.
You may strive to be like them, but seek not to make them like you.
For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday.

You are the bows from which your children as living arrows are sent forth.
The archer sees the mark upon the path of infinite,
and He bends you with His might that His arrows may go swift and far.
Let your bending in the archer's hand be for gladness;
For even as He loves the arrow that flies, so He loves also the bow that is stable."

But I don't know. I don't think that it will read quite the same to the birth mother that it does to me, which is too bad, because it sums up pretty much my entire parenting philosophy.

Besides, I've already quoted Rumi somewhere else in the profile and adding a quote from The Prophet might be a bit much.

I could just as easily use one of my father's sayings. In fact, I had to call him up and ask him for it:

"Children are not objects to be molded, but gifts to be unfolded."

I'll try that. Right after I finish this game of Mahjong.