Sunday, March 5, 2017

Just Me And The Lorax

I think I was born in the wrong time period. Quite honestly, I've felt that way for as long as I can remember. My soul, my very most inner being longs for a much simpler time. A time of more community, sock hops, malt shops, and drive inn movies. A time when small communities were the thing- alive and thriving! Ma and Pop shops were on every corner and people actually got together in person for that thing called "socializing". Less schedules and more picnics on a blanket in the park. Less social media and more meeting for coffee and donuts. More lemonade stands without worry about safety of the kiddos running it.

Call me an old soul, traditional, or crazy. Whichever. It doesn't change the fact that my soul yearns for porch swings and acres for my boys-in-the-hood to roam, build, destroy and grow. I want a quiet country road that sings of birds, dust and wild flowers. I want kids on bikes, pick up games of flag football and fresh cookies in my oven. Falling asleep under a big oak tree while reading a good book and the sun warms my skin sounds like the best afternoon.

That's what my childhood was filled with. Laughter, hay bales and bike rides- riding so fast and so hard we thought our legs would fall off. No worries about juggling our sports' schedules and practice times. We swam at the local pool daily; all our friends meeting up at the corner, dropping our bikes and rushing in with towels over our shoulders. Never concerned about what would come later. Ahhh. It calls to me.

Maybe it's because life as an adult isn't nearly as ideological as we make it out to be as teens; or maybe it's because all the weight of parenting is on me right now in this season; or maybe I truly have an old, old soul. I'm not sure what it is that pulls my heart. Overwhelming feelings, schedules and emotions probably brings out the desire for simple in all of us. But for me, it almost pushes me over the edge. I don't like to be so busy that we can't fit in a family meal around the table. I don't enjoy rushing to event after event. I don't enjoy not sitting and reading stories with my children. I thrive in long, lazy days in the warmth of summer. I love spending those days with my kiddos, eating popsicles quicker than they can melt and deciding if we are going to go to the pool or run through the sprinkler. It truly is what I enjoy. I have no desire to run any kind of rat race, punch anyone else's clock or miss out on any moment- no matter how small- that pops up in my boys' lives. I'm selfish like that I guess. I want all their moments; every single one. I don't want to miss out on any. And lately, the running around, jostling people from one practice to another, filling my calendar up with everyone's schedules and the sort just doesn't seem to offer the same appeal as it has in years past.

Give me a swing under my tree and the sweet sounds of laughter of my kids and I've found my happiest of dwelling places. I would have enjoyed being a parent in another generation because I have no desire to serve anyone outside my home. I want to cook and sew and bake desserts and make my home a peaceful retreat for all seven of the boys I've been blessed with in my life. Give me a 100 year old farm house with some acreage and oak trees and you may never ever see me again. It is where my old soul wants to be for eternity.

Just me, my boys and some trees.

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