When I Grow Up

This seems to be one of those days when I just don't want to do what I'm supposed to. I didn't want to eat a healthy breakfast, but I did because I'm all out of sinful treats. I didn't want to wash my hair and get ready for a luncheon. I really, really, don't want to go get the third of a series of extremely painful shots in my knees. I don't want to worry about what to feed my family for dinner, but I know I've slacked off too much lately, and I need to plan something decent. The one thing I did want to do was go to a jewelry sale, but it interfered with that decent dinner, and I'm really not in a buying mood anyway, so I gave myself permission to cancel that.

Sometimes I feel like Walker is more of an adult than I am. It has taken us years to get him there, but he follows through with the necessaries of grooming and chores like a robot that has been properly programmed. He doesn't like changes of plans much better than his dad does, but has learned that stuff happens and plans change. It helps if we make it clear to him that plans are negotiable or non-negotiable and give him choices where there's some wiggle room for his preferences.

In return for his developing into a reliable and responsible adult, we allow him to use his free time pretty much as he chooses. He watches a lot of TV but we don't monitor what he watches. My son-in-law, the most outrageous one of three, asked me if Walker realized that he could be drinking beer and watching porn if he wanted to. I've never informed Walker of those adult priviledges, and, thankfully, he has shown more interest in Hannah Montana and Diet Cokes. I suspect his friend, Steffen, indulges in some more adult pursuits, but never when he's with Walker.

Some days I wish I were more like Walker. I wish I were unaware of catastrophes all over the world and the potential crash of our economy. I wish I didn't worry about anything more than whether I remembered my name tag for work. I wish I were innocent again.

Blessings, Janie