Growing up in the mid-80′s, the slip-n-slide was the hot new thing. It really wasn’t much of anything, to be quite honest. It was a small piece of plastic that you put in between your sprinklers. You would run, slide about 4 feet and roll off into the grass while accruing scrapes, cuts, grass burn and the silliest faces and giggles you’d ever seen from your friends. Then you’d jump up and do it again because it. was. awesome.
I wanted one of those little yellow pieces of plastic more than anything.
Luckily, I lived just down the road from my cousins and their parents were much crazier than mine. Or, it’s quite possible they knew that the secret to peace of mind over that particular summer lay in an enlarged water bill and a little piece of yellow plastic. Either way, my cousins got the slip-n-slide and I got to walk the quarter of a mile to their place every day to bust my butt on the plastic and the hard dirt underneath.
Run Run Run Run Sliiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiide YES I’M FLYING NO NO NO I’m rollling! OUCH!
And back in line I’d go. And don’t think it was a short line. I wasn’t the only kid who knew about my cousin’s slip-n-slide. We lived in the country and the neighbor kids heard. So did their parents, and their parents weren’t going to pony up for a slip-n-slide or a water bill either. We’d dutifully get in line about ten kids back until we bled enough that it just stung too much to go again that day.
Nowadays, oh how old I feel saying nowadays, nowadays, the slip-n-slide has become so fancy! You can slide into a pool! The piece of plastic is HUGE and there are safeguards for those wimpy kids who care about bleeding. On the 4th of July, I found out exactly how intricate the whole slip-n-slide industry had become.
In Nashville on the 4th, our downtown area is amazing. Truly an amazing sight to behold is the area by the river that just lights up with booths of any kind of food you’d like, booths where you can buy the coolest hats on earth and a whole street dedicated to the littlest cowboys and cowgirls in the city.
As jets flew over the city celebrating our Independence, we walked around with bottled water and looked to see what was happening in our fair land. My little sister marveled at the cute boys. My mom wanted to go see what was going on down by the river. And me? I kept getting pulled towards these huge inflatable bouncy things, as all moms do.
After getting a stamp on his hand that made all the rides FREE, AJ was off. One of the first few rides to catch his eye was a large slip-n-slide. When I say slip-n-slide, I don’t mean one close to the ground. This inflatable wonder was about 4 feet off the ground and looked like a long island. Kids would run and jump UP onto it where sprinklers would shoot down onto them for about 20 feet. The line was short, but the joy was long.
I stood by the end and watched as child after child, including my own, jumped onto it and laughed themselves silly. It’s not been a great summer by any standards, but I couldn’t stop laughing along with them. The thing about joy is that it is utterly contagious. Some would jump up there, realize “OH NO THERE IS WATER UP HERE” and try to get down until mom or dad would take their hand and then lead them through the slide. After which, they would cry to go back on. There was a devilish little thing, who couldn’t have been more than three, who would go through the whole thing, slam his body down to the concrete after he got done, like the hulk, and give devil hands. I’m not kidding. Just like the orange ones to the right. He was totally “rock and roll” about the slide. And AJ? AJ would run, jump, slide, fall on his bottom, laugh and do it over and over again. He probably did it 30 times. I laughed just as hard as he did every time.
Yes, children are amazing and sometimes the smallest things in life are a recipe for joy. Just add water.
Today, I was reading Jen’s blog (which, if you haven’t read it, you should) on her child’s birthday party and the quandary she is in due to the creativity of her son and his having invited most of the school and the neighboring 3 counties (my author liberty) to his birthday party.
When I finished reading I laughed. And laughed and laughed and laughed. Better her than me, I thought to myself. Jen will likely defriend me at this point, and rightfully so, as I should be commiserating with her, but in the age of Chuck-e-Cheese, I’m just thankful I didn’t get roped into this particular dilemna.
AJ has never had a large party. When I go to adult parties, other parents are very quick to judge me when I state this fact. The response is usually a tightening of the lips, a shake of the head and a “but, don’t you think he’s missing out?” or some equally insane statement. If you just relaxed your lips, stopped shaking your head and closed your mouth, then we need to talk in a very serious way.
As a toddler, a big party would have been more for the adults. Consider the statement “Aw, look at all the cute little ones in their cute little pointy hats and their faces all smooshed with cake. Isn’t it precious?” That cute, precious, pointy party would have cost about $200 and he would have ended up with a bunch of presents that would have put people out of grocery money. For the $200, we could buy him presents and those people could buy their groceries. So, we chose to have small parties, spend less than $25 (usually) on a party for him, us, family and close friends and spend a bit on presents (not $200, for the record).
As he gets older, now 8, we still don’t do big parties. This year, we asked what he would like to do on his birthday. He chose to see a movie. That gets expensive with many people, so the compromise was that he could choose ONE friend to take to the movie and then we’d do the bells and whistles for them: ANYTHING they wanted from the snack bar and they got to pick any G rated movie they wanted to see. You would think they died and went to high fructose corn syrup heaven. Before the movie, they went to the McDonald’s and ate dinner and played in the playland for two hours. AJ said it was “the best birthday ever!” and so did his friend.
By keeping his party expectations low, we don’t have to worry about upsets. Sure, he like attending birthday parties, but he also is an introvert who likes a small get together, too. He’d rather have presents and get to do whatever he wants on his day than a 2 hour party.
Another family we know did something similar. They did the big Chuck-e-Cheese party, but they invited family and they allowed their child to choose one kid to come as a guest (AJ) and so they saved money on tokens and all the extras and the child still got the special feeling that a kid gets from doing all the birthday stuff at Chuck-e-Cheese.
To Jen, what about doing a lollipop lottery? Get some dum dums and whoever gets the dum dums with a mark on them gets to come to your 3-4 person party? To everyone else, I’m just glad I’m still worrying about this kind of thing instead of beer parties.
As adults, we want to believe that we are able to move beyond the things that happened in our past and we very much choose to believe that we are able to forget the people that we have tied ourselves to during that time. We let go of them and “get on with our lives” and heal as much as we can. Something I’m discovering, in my own time of self-awareness and discovery, is that we never really let go of those people completely.
Our feelings do change for people and I’m not questioning that notion. However, I think most people I know would agree that the feelings they have for their first love are very different than the feelings they have for that night in college where the pizza guy looked really good or the girl in the short skirt in the corner appealed to you in a way that you didn’t think was possible. Don’t for a second think you didn’t give those people an emotional piece of yourself, because you did, no matter how small, because you still remember them. And, yet, you may not look upon that period with any kind of empathy, compassion, or wistfulness for them or yourself at that time.
These are not the instances that I’m addressing. I’m addressing the first loves, the best friends, the close friends, the soul mates, the people that you meet on the street that do a kindness for you. These are the people that allow you to have a piece of their heart and with that you, in turn, share a piece of yours with them like a puzzle only the two of you have any hope of completing.
When we give this part of ourselves away, we do so at a large cost. There really isn’t any going back from that point. I remember my first love quite fondly, as he was a good friend before he was anything else to me. He was sweet, funny and shy. We talk online now and then, but what strikes me so much is that it has been so long and our feelings have healed to the point where I genuinely want his happiness in a way that I wish for what he wishes for himself. I think of old friends that I haven’t seen in years and wish the best for them.
I think this is where the popularity of social networking sites such as Facebook and Myspace come in. Of course there are people that want to “stick it” to the people that hurt them so long ago, but, overwhelmingly, the feeling I get about these sites is that it is more about healing and caring than anything else. We want to know how these people are doing and if they are well. Our reason for that is not always because of them: It’s because of us. It’s because they hold onto a string attached to our emotions that we haven’t quite clipped.
I can think back to my first real crush and smile fondly. I can think of my first best friend and laugh at some of the things we’ve done in our lives. I can think of the first time someone hurt me beyond repair. There are many spots that aren’t healed and there are many that will never heal. It’s up to me to decide whether I’m going to allow those strings to continue to move me like a puppeteer or clip them and free the strings up for new events in our lives.
The man who held the door for me the other day…the old woman who smiled at me when I was stressed out about finals…the way my dogs know when I’m sad and will just lay silently next to me…the way my sister hugs me when she hasn’t seen me in a while…
Sometimes just the recognition of humanity in others reminds us of our own humanity. This brought a smile to my heart and I wanted to share it with you in the hopes that it might lift you as well. Have a wonderful day.
Yesterday, AJ came into the living room and yelled joyfully, “Mama! I found a caterpillar!!” I remember the joy of childhood in which a “willyworm” could be hours of entertainment. I would watch them cross roads, pass over sticks and climb trees and stare in fascination. I grew up on a farm and often the bugs and critters I would find would be the best sort of day-passing activities for a kid who didn’t have cable television. I didn’t grow up on Disney or Zoom. We had rabbit ears and fuzzy stations.
Most kids that grow up on farms get to work. I was lucky, or spoiled depending on your view, in that I didn’t. I had pet chickens, that eventually became dinner and caused me to avoid eating chicken for 18 years. I had a pet goat and a horse. Several dogs called me owner but none of them stayed around long. I played in a chicken coop and a barn and a pasture. I ate fresh berries off the vine and peas straight out of the pod. Hot watermelon opened by cracking it on the steps of the back porch still tastes best to me. Blackberries and mulberries bursting off their vines, full of luscious ripeness, call to me.
All because of the thought of a caterpillar. AJ’s enthusiasm was contagious. I watched the caterpillar creep up his arm and search for escape. “Harold” was aptly named because he or she looked like a Harold. AJ began making plans for a long and happy life with Harold in which Harold could live in his room and eat carrots and lettuce (what AJ assumed Harold would enjoy eating) and Harold could live in a tank just like fish. When I explained how this would affect Harold, AJ’s face fell. He took a minute to process him and slowly marched outside.
When he came back in he melodramatically explained to me, “I let Harold go because it would make him happy. He deserved it.”
Life is like a game. We all have challenges, thoughts, opinions and beliefs. Often, it feels like something out there, life, karma, catty people, or blue shells (for the Kart lovers), seeks to bring us down. Luckily, we always get up. This is where I wear my heart on my sleeve and my foot in my mouth.
I am currently accepting new sponsorships. Please email me for more information.
Misc
Are you interested in showing your support for my site? Feel free to post a blog button!
We are members of one great body. Nature planted in us a mutual love, and fitted us for a social life. We must consider that we were born for the good of the whole.
Lucius Annaeus Seneca
Home
Growing up in the mid-80′s, the slip-n-slide was the hot new thing. It really wasn’t much of anything, to be quite honest. It was a small piece of plastic that you put in between your sprinklers. You would run, slide about 4 feet and roll off into the grass while accruing scrapes, cuts, grass burn and the silliest faces and giggles you’d ever seen from your friends. Then you’d jump up and do it again because it. was. awesome. 
IS WATER UP HERE” and try to get down until mom or dad would take their hand and then lead them through the slide. After which, they would cry to go back on. There was a devilish little thing, who couldn’t have been more than three, who would go through the whole thing, slam his body down to the concrete after he got done, like the hulk, and give devil hands. I’m not kidding. Just like the orange ones to the right. He was totally “rock and roll” about the slide. And AJ? AJ would run, jump, slide, fall on his bottom, laugh and do it over and over again. He probably did it 30 times. I laughed just as hard as he did every time.
Life is like a game. We all have challenges, thoughts, opinions and beliefs. Often, it feels like something out there, life, karma, catty people, or blue shells (for the Kart lovers), seeks to bring us down. Luckily, we always get up. This is where I wear my heart on my sleeve and my foot in my mouth.
