Were you raised on fairy tales?

Posted by random olio

I recently wrote about whether you should tell you kids about Santa Claus, the Easter Bunny, and the Tooth Fairy. I wonder though about fairy tales. Are they different?

I do not remember my parents pushing fairy tales on me, but, I do remember reading my share of them. Did I believe them? I do not remember. I had an imagination as a kid, but I am not sure it was specifically from fairy tales, mostly I think my imagination because of the volume of books I read. I grew up without a television, so my life was interesting through what and where I explored outside, the individuals (they were characters!) I met on my paper route, and what I read in books. Sure I watched television and movies, but only at friend’s houses or when I stayed with my grandma.

The books that I read led me to write. I made up stories all the time. Whether they were good or not is another thing. I still have all of them, but have not snuggled on the couch with warm tea and pulled them out to go over what my little self wrote about. I am sure I will be amused. I can remember one was a mystery and had a detective, and another about a girl president. Who knows where I got those ideas. I am sure many of the books I read as a kid kindled that fire that made me want to write.

Which is why I liked this informative blog post about how great leaders are birthed from fairy tales. This post shares how exposure to fairy tales, means you just might be imaginative, have critical thinking skills, and are creative. It also shares the words of Albert Einstein:

“If you want your children to be intelligent, read them fairy tales. If you want them to be more intelligent, read them more fairy tales.”

I love it. For those of you that are parents out there, bring out the fairy tales. Allow your kids to ask questions, dream, and wonder about what is possible. You never know what Hansel and Gretel might mean for your adventurous son, and Cinderella for your beautiful daughter. I think fairy tales start conversations about what is true, what could be, and what should be. I never had those conversations with my parents, but hey maybe you will.

A hot, sticky mess

Posted by random olio

We awoke to many loud popping sounds, almost like gunshots going off. It was the middle of the night. I sat up in bed, my heart pounding. What happened?

My parents, sister, brother, and I ran out of our bedrooms, down the hall, and into the kitchen to find out what had happened. We were shocked. The paneled walls in our dining room, the flowered border wallpaper, the olive green refrigerator, and the painted walls were covered in grape jelly.

A few days prior, we had visited my grandma’s house, and spent an afternoon picking grapes off the grapevines in her backyard. We did it every year. Our fingers purple hued with grape juice. I rarely popped one in my mouth as the tart taste was not my favorite. What I loved is what we would do when we brought our bounty home. Our kitchen turned into grape central. Massive pots brewing and stewing grapes and the counter lined with Ball jars ready for the final product. My mom mostly made grape jelly. Maybe there were other concoctions of grape canning or cooking, but I only remember the jelly. I loved and hated it all at once. It was a lot of work, but the result? Yummy grape jelly (my favorite) for breakfast!

So the grape covered walls? My mom had been canning the grape jelly and had not waited long enough for the grape jelly to cool before sealing the lids on top of the jars. In the middle of the night, the heat inside the jars had made them explode, leaving our kitchen and dining room splattered with grape jelly. It was a bit of a shock and funny all at the same time. The bummer part? My sister, brother, and I had to clean up the hot, sticky mess.

I think of it every time I smear grape jelly on my toast.

Sometimes you have to drop your pride

Posted by random olio

Even if a novel is not a true story, sometimes there is a character that gets under your skin, and makes their way into your heart. I just finished reading “Outside the Lines” by Amy Hatvany. It is a story about a girl who is trying to find her father. When she was ten he left because of his mental issues. He could not stay on his medications because it numbed him, but could not function without his medication. She is 30 and trying to find her father 20 years later. This excerpt made me think of my own dad:

“‘I’m useless,’ he cried. ‘Totally useless. I’m a terrible father. I’m a terrible painter. I should just leave…you’d be better off without me. Everyone would.’ He shoved his face in his hands, making it awkward to keep him in my embrace. I could feel his tears drip down on my forearm. His pain bled into me, pushing through my skin. It made my stomach clench. He only used to cry once in a while, now it was happening all the time.” page 39

Dad rarely cried. He would call me every few weeks when I was in college. Instead of short frequent conversations, they would be three agonizing hours. I could not get him to stop talking to me. Maybe that is why it is hard for me to finish a conversation today, and why I feel guilty walking away, even if I am late for another engagement. I never knew how to get my dad off the phone. Maybe I felt that staying on the phone with him would make things different for him. Or better.

The final years of his life were not great for my father. Looking back it makes me sad to think about his loneliness. Those late night phone calls, when I should have been studying, made me feel like the parent. It definitely made me a better listener. He would tell me about the construction jobs he was working on, and the clients he liked, and those he did not. He would talk about his siblings, and whether he was in touch with them. We talking about my siblings and whether he was in touch with them. He would talk about his dreams, and where he wanted to take his life. He hoped that things would come through for him, and if they did he was going to find a better place to live, or eventually replace his old blue truck. Sometimes he was in a good mood and would tell me how proud he was of me, other times he would be so down in the dumps that I knew my words of affirmation would not sail into his ears, they would just float through the mouthpiece of my phone and out the ear of his phone.

My mom was dead. He missed her. Even though they divorced a few years before she passed on, I knew he still loved her. Even if they fought and argued, you could still see the love they had for each other. His work life was hard, back-breaking work and he was not getting any breaks. He longed to be able to pay his bills, and have something be easy in life. My sister and I encouraged him over and over again to get a job working for someone else for the knowledge that he would have a regular paycheck and health benefits, but that was not my dad. From as far back as I could remember my dad did not take orders from anyone. This meant the last thing he would do is work for someone else. I do not think he truly understood that sometimes when things are tough it is better to drop your pride, be good, collect a paycheck and put your feet up at the end of the week.

What he may not know is that I learned from his example. I have a bit of him in the “do your own thing” in me, but I also appreciate what it means to know you have a secure job, health benefits, and someone who might just rub your feet at the end of the week. It is not something to take for granted.

Letter to my younger self

Posted by random olio

Have you ever written a letter to your younger self? If so, what did it say? If not, what would you have it say? I have done many team oriented exercises where you write a letter to your future self and then a certain number of days later it is put in the mail to you by someone else. What if instead you let yourself off the hook. What would you have told YOU at a younger age?

the bat is bigger than me…

Here is my letter to my younger self:

“If you could know one thing, it would be to tell you to play harder. You will have so much to overcome through high school, college, and beyond that you will exemplify an adult at a much younger age. If I could do anything to get you through those years it would be to find any and every moment to play. You will find that solace in children, and when your arms are full with the softness, simplicity, and wonder of the babies you will take care of for others. You will play with them, but it is not the childlike abandon you need to find within yourself.

You look to art to find that solace, to find the answers to your questions, and as therapy for what you are not able to control. Let it all go. You will have so much to balance later in life, that you might find it hard to let go and play. What you learn now about play, about laughter, about love will help to get you through tougher times. Without your playful resilience, you may crack.

It will all be okay. Times will be tough. Through loss, sickness, love, you will take care of many, and few will know how to take care of you. Let them. Do not always feel you have to be the strong one. Do not always think that no one will come through for you. Trust that those in our life will be there when you ask. In the end, it will all be better than you can ever imagine.

Have fun, play hard, and live in the moment.”

Should you tell your kids?

Posted by random olio

I ponder questions about my future as a mom. I often wonder with my tendency to be blunt all the time, will I decide to tell my kids that there is a Tooth Fairy, Easter Bunny, or Santa Claus? What is the right thing to do? On one hand there is fantasy and fun surrounding these mythical stories, but what does it teach kids if they learn that we have been lying to them all these years?

I suppose from a tier of importance, Santa Claus has the most weight. If he is capable of bringing every child around the world a gift all in one night, while riding a sleigh, and going down any houses with chimneys, well that is not a loaded lie! Oh, and about the chimney, the man is fat. And, he has a reindeer with a red light at the end of his nose. How many lies has that added up? 5 so far. I am sure if we really looked at the story, we could count many more.

The Easter Bunny and Tooth Fairy carry much less weight from the lie factory. For Easter, the bunny hides eggs. That does not seem so far-fetched. Bunnies dig holes, it could be possible. Was the Easter Bunny a boy or a girl? I am not sure I ever learned where the Easter Bunny comes from, and I do not think I learned how the Easter Bunny was connected to the resurrection of Jesus. Probably did not matter, because all I remembered about Easter was wearing a hideous “Easter” dress from my grandma, going to church, having brunch, and finding our easter basket. A regular Sunday, except for more candy, and a poopy Sunday dress.

Now the Tooth Fairy. I assumed the Tooth Fairy was a girl, probably out of the process of elimination that a fairy was never a boy when I was a kid. I had a hand-me-down tooth pillow, that I put under my pillow when I lost my tooth. I never found it odd that the Tooth Fairy had to lift my head to get the pillow, remove the tooth, and leave my half-dollar, all without my waking up. I have heard very different accounts of what friends received for a tooth, but we got 50 cents in the fancy form of a half-dollar. Calculating that I have 28 teeth, not counting the four wisdom teeth pulled a few years ago (I know everyone might have different amounts), that equals $14 on me. Of the three fictional characters I would say the Tooth Fairy wins. Over the course of a few years of my life, they only spent $14. If there is only one Tooth Fairy, then how come other kids received $20 a tooth (about $560 total). Does the Tooth Fairy play favorites?

I digress. I started this blog to discuss whether to lie to my future children or not. The verdict is still out. I know I sound like a heartless future mom, but I have strong beliefs about not lying to my children. I wonder if I can find a way to go along with the charade, while also telling them the truth. Tell them it is make believe and we can play along together.

What do you think?