Some times I look at the kids (seven of them) and shake my head sadly. For the newer readers, (to save you from scrambling through the blog for this pertinent information,) three of mine biologically and four of Tammy's biologically. We do not use the term 'step' when it involves family. Add to this my time teaching high school students by the score, and proud moments can be few and far between.
A few days ago, my middle daughter, Chasity, told me some news that just warmed my heart. Her oldest child Ian is nearing the threshold of being five years old. She began to tell him about the test required before he could officially turn five. This test contains a sampling of the sum knowledge required to be five years old. It made me proud.
Let's go backward in time to a day when my youngest was about to turn six. This would have been near October, 1993. I told her that she had to pass the six-year-old test in order to turn six. If she did not pass the test, she would be required to remain five for another year. There would be no party and no presents. She was on the verge on believing when she looked at her mother, that last bastion of virtue, that last hope of the young, and she said, and I quote, "He's lying."
Still, Chasity telling Ian about the test was wonderful.
Of course, that was not my only foray into child cruelty via alternative reasoning and parental trust. A few of the favorites that my darling children still reminisce about are:
*Recording tornado warning during the tornado season and then playing them arbitrarily to watch them scurry about wanting to turn the couch over and get under it.
*Taking the dogs to get rabies shots at the fire station and telling the kids we were ALL getting rabies shots.
*Reaffirming the children's belief that a stream running near the house and behind a hospital indeed was a dumping place for discarded organs and body parts.
*Telling them that the peeled off treads of retreaded semi truck tires littering the highway were actually alligators in disguise awaiting unsuspecting motorists with car trouble and then tapping the gas to feign car trouble.
*Telling Audrey, the oldest and a chatterbox, that she needed to stop talking or she would use up all her words. Further making it more believable by explaining the people that use up all their words lose their voices and those that don't use all their words talk in their sleep.
Of course, all of these were dispelled when a glance at their mom would bring those two words they longed to hear, "He's lying."
A few days ago, my middle daughter, Chasity, told me some news that just warmed my heart. Her oldest child Ian is nearing the threshold of being five years old. She began to tell him about the test required before he could officially turn five. This test contains a sampling of the sum knowledge required to be five years old. It made me proud.
Let's go backward in time to a day when my youngest was about to turn six. This would have been near October, 1993. I told her that she had to pass the six-year-old test in order to turn six. If she did not pass the test, she would be required to remain five for another year. There would be no party and no presents. She was on the verge on believing when she looked at her mother, that last bastion of virtue, that last hope of the young, and she said, and I quote, "He's lying."
Still, Chasity telling Ian about the test was wonderful.
Of course, that was not my only foray into child cruelty via alternative reasoning and parental trust. A few of the favorites that my darling children still reminisce about are:
*Recording tornado warning during the tornado season and then playing them arbitrarily to watch them scurry about wanting to turn the couch over and get under it.
*Taking the dogs to get rabies shots at the fire station and telling the kids we were ALL getting rabies shots.
*Reaffirming the children's belief that a stream running near the house and behind a hospital indeed was a dumping place for discarded organs and body parts.
*Telling them that the peeled off treads of retreaded semi truck tires littering the highway were actually alligators in disguise awaiting unsuspecting motorists with car trouble and then tapping the gas to feign car trouble.
*Telling Audrey, the oldest and a chatterbox, that she needed to stop talking or she would use up all her words. Further making it more believable by explaining the people that use up all their words lose their voices and those that don't use all their words talk in their sleep.
Of course, all of these were dispelled when a glance at their mom would bring those two words they longed to hear, "He's lying."
My baby, Heather (the six-year-old test skipper) told me a few days ago that she needed a TV. Her roommate owner of the TV moved out and took it with her. She and remaining roommate took a cardboard box and made a TV out of it. they even put the cable box on it and put the wires into the back of it. They made screens which displayed the History Channel with a special on Hitler and one of the TBS or TNT hit CSI programs. As I listened to her tell the story about fooling her older sister by telling her that her TV only got 2 channels, I couldn't help but be proud.
My sense of humor will survive me. A proud moment in the life of a parent.
My sense of humor will survive me. A proud moment in the life of a parent.
