Let’s hear it for the dads

Because we don’t have kids, Mike and I most often socialize with other nonparents, or with folks whose kids have grown. But yesterday I had the chance to see how the other half lives, hanging out at a party with people not too much younger than we are who happen to be the parents of young children.

What struck me most was how involved the dads are with their kids. All the fathers there were actively interacting with, coaching, playing with, disciplining, feeding, and otherwise “parenting” their child and watching out for all the kids there.

Contrast that to my own experiences with my dad growing up and a lifetime of observing dads older than yesterday’s group. The dads I grew up with were never that involved; child-rearing was pretty much the moms’ job. Dads were there to say, “Go ask your mother,” yell at you when you got out of line, and scare the bejesus out of you, so you didn’t get out of line. Harsh? Maybe, but that was pretty much how it was.

That’s not to say that if I talked to all the moms at yesterday’s party, they would agree their spouses are 50-50 on the childcare/parenting front. But to this casual observer, it was pretty darn impressive. And so nice to see.

I can’t say I observe similar parenting out in public day-to-day (from moms or dads). I’m sure a lot of what I saw yesterday had to do with the group I was with — clearly stellar individuals. But it made an impression on me.

Way to go dads! (And way to go moms…was he this way when you found him?) 

Fatherhood is pretending the present
you love most is soap-on-a-rope. 
                                   ~ Bill Cosby

How green is too green?

I was thinking about how to comment on this Post-Gazette article I read online this morning and Pitt Girl beat me to it. If you don’t know, Pitt Girl is an anonymous Pittsburgher who writes a VERY popular blog called The Burgh Blog. I read it for a laugh every now and then, though it’s not family fare; it’s often crude. But often really funny.

So, this wins my vote for TOO GREEN! (I would love to know the “x women out of 10” number that do not find this type of recycling repulsive. And, as one of Pitt Girl’s commenters wrote, can you imagine how her KIDS feel, with this publicity all over the paper?)

We are, however, trying to be more green. I compost my kitchen scraps — though have yet to yield any compost. I’ve been recycling paper (junk mail, the reams I generate in my office, magazines, newspaper) because giant paper recycling dumpsters have popped up everywhere, several that are convenient to me, and my sister put me onto them. I now keep seeing dumpsters (errr, drop-off containers) for shoes and clothes too. I wonder where these donations go? 

We also just purchased a rain barrel. Apparently these are one of the hottest products on the market — the decorative ones are astronomically expensive or already sold out. I’m told you can make your own for a few dollars, but we opted for a ready-made one (someone else’s DIY industriousness) from eBay.

And naturally, for the first time all year, we are not likely to get rain for the next 10 days. So much for saving water this summer. (Maybe we’ll actually get it installed before it rains again.)

I’m very intrigued by the idea of “gray water” systems that use relatively clean wastewater from showering, washing dishes, and laundry so that it can be reused to water the garden and such. Seems like a really worthwhile thing to look into if you build a new house, although I’m sure, like all these good ideas (solar, wind), actually doing it is prohibitively expensive.

Now, this brings to mind something I had totally forgotten. When I was little, I remember my mother actually saving the rinse water from the wash to reuse again to wash the next load. Not just from her wringer washer, but even after she got an automatic. I remember her bailing it out of the laundry tubs and back into the washer. I was appalled. Also appalled when she would rinse out the spaghetti sauce jar or the ketchup bottle or the soup can or whatever to get out every drop. Drove me crazy! Now I do the same thing (the jar rinsing, not the water bailing).

I tell ya, those Depression folks INVENTED reduce, reuse, recycle. (It was called being poor and not wasting anything.) I shudder to think how I (or any of us) would survive if we had to go back to those true DIY times. Kill a chicken, skin a rabbit, grow a garden from seed, “put up” fruits and vegetables, make soap — we likely wouldn’t survive. 

One of my favorite books I read over and over as a child was My Side of the Mountain, about a boy who goes off into the wilderness to live on his own. Between this book and endless readings of Laura Ingalls Wilder, Lois Lenski (Strawberry Girl), Caddie Woodlawn, and many others, I was convinced I could be a pioneer girl (or maybe “Aimish”) and in fact probably was one in a previous life.

Now look at me. Grossed out by a little homespun Kotex and Charmin. Pioneer stock my a… (No pun intended, until I realized it.)

Waste not, want not.

Runaway train

“The world is too much with us.”

That quote crossed my mind yesterday out of nowhere and started a whole train of thought.

The engine: Ain’t that the truth. So much of our amazing brainpower, our thoughts, our very lives is consumed by the incessant chatter of life in this world. Driven by a constant stream of consciousness aboout what you did, didn’t do, should do, might do, need to do, hate to do, can’t do, won’t do, forgot to do, what, when, where, why, how, on and on. (The world is absolutely too much with us.)

A hopper: How do I turn it off? Imagine how lovely it would be to dump that load you’re carrying and just BE for a while. Relax and enjoy the summer sunshine. Contemplate the clouds. Drink a glass of lemonade. Watch a bee. (And all without thinking — oh look at those weeds and that branch needs trimmed and that bare spot needs more grass seed and there’s that shrub to plant and I need to pick off those Japanese beetles like the gardening blog said and it’s time for more fertilizer and the petunias need deadheading and…)

I know, that’s the whole point of meditation. But who has time for that? (The world is too much with us.)

A boxcar: Whoa, where’d that come from? Literally. What is that, Shakespeare? (I’m sad to say I had to look it up and discovered it’s Wordsworth.) It’s amazing how many little quotes and sayings and snippets we carry around with us. (Mostly hidden because the world is too much with us to think or contemplate profound thoughts very often.)

A passenger car: Remember how summer used to be? Three whole months of freedom and you along for the ride. Sleep in, stay up late, chase lightning bugs, read books, drink Kool-Aid (preferably orange), play with friends, get bored doing nothing — all the things you wish you could do now. All the things we really need to do to stay sane, but can’t. (The world is too much with us.)

The caboose: Can I make it less? Can I mute the inner noise and go outside for a while? Can I leave my desk and enjoy this gorgeous day? Or will I only keep worrying about the e-mails I’m missing, the chores I should be doing, the calls I should be making, the bills I should be earning money to pay, the desk that needs clearing…the world that is too much with me?

The world is too much with us; late and soon,
Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers:
Little we see in Nature that is ours;
We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon!
The Sea that bares her bosom to the moon;
The winds that will be howling at all hours,
And are up-gathered now like sleeping flowers;
For this, for everything, we are out of tune;
It moves us not.–Great God! I’d rather be
A Pagan suckled in a creed outworn;
So might I, standing on this pleasant lea,
Have glimpses that would make me less forlorn;
Have sight of Proteus rising from the sea;
Or hear old Triton blow his wreathed horn.
                   ~ William Wordsworth (c.1802)

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