Eustace wanted to help with naptime, so I let him. I really do think I’ve got the best camel in the world, for my very own assistant babysitter.
He’s a natural! Well, actually, he’s a camel. But, for a camel, he’s got this whole baby thing down, perfectly.
Happy Hump Day!
Thought I would do a brief post, while the little angel sleeps. She’s such a good baby, honestly!
I was so nervous and excited about today that I started waking up around 1:30 in the morning, subsequently waking every hour on the hour, til around 5 am. By then it was time to wake and prepare for her arrival, so I guarantee my bedtime will be early this evening, lol.
You’d think that it would be second nature to care for an infant, being that I birthed and raised three, myself. Somehow, it feels different with Maisie. I think it’s the nervousness of caring for one that belongs to another. I love her so much, but she’s not my baby… she’s my daughters child. I want so much for her not to worry about the baby while they are apart, during work hours.
I will say that I was happy to get smiles from her this morning, when we first got her out of the car. I was worried that she would be frightened, possibly, what with all the changes happening. Nope! It helps that she simply adores her papa, and he came downstairs to get her with me.
You know, I don’t think we’ve gotten more than a few grumpy whines, and that was just before I gave her a bottle so I know she was just hungry.
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Ok, so maybe it won’t be that easy to write while she naps. I barely got started and then had to take a break to feed and change her, as her morning naps are merely 30 minute breathers.
All in all, it was a great success, today! By the time I handed her back to mamma, she’d been thoroughly loved, fed, tickled, and spoiled. What else could I do? This Meemaw has no other choice, does she? To hear the sound of a baby’s giggles, coo’s, and the strange dialect of baby babble, is to have truly lived….
It’s been over 30 years since I raised my babies, and at least 5 since I watched over a baby full-time.
While I’d like to say that I’ve got this, no problem, there is still some butterflies in my stomach.
I’m no spring chicken, as they say. Will this body hold up?
My relationship with my daughter is a fragile one, do to my own shortcomings as a mother. It’s almost as if my grandbaby is bridging a gap between the two of us, providing an area of safe ground for rebuilding bonds, once more.
I’ve always wanted and prayed for the opportunity to be there for my daughters, and be the MeeMaw that my grandchildren will adore. Now is one of my chances!
Oh lord, I pray that you give me that which I need, for the sake of those I love.
I don’t even know why I’m writing all this stuff down, really. I guess it helps to put it down on paper, or a computer screen, in this case.
No need for answers, or words of self-affirmation.
It simply helps to write out my thoughts. Then I can observe where they take me, or how they keep me grounded, if that makes any sense.
Obviously, I can remember how to care for a baby. That’s not the issue, I don’t think. Most probably, it’s the fact that she’s not mine, first of all. Caring for something so precious that belongs to another is a wonderful, yet, terrifying venture. I don’t think I ever really doubted myself as a mother. It just felt natural, some how.
With my granddaughter, I feel inadequate, somehow. I’m not mamma! I can’t make all the monsters go away, and make the world feel safe like she can. I smell different than mom, sound different, and behave in a different manner. This will all be a huge adjustment for her, and my desire is to make it as gentle as possible.
Life can take one in so many differing directions, offering a multitude of opportunities and experiences. But something about a baby on scene, and the rest of the world seems to fade to grey… for me, at least.
Babies are such a vivid example of Gods design for humans. They begin life so small, and fragile. Each day, we find their eyes full of wonder at the world around them, as they grow and develop. It’s such an awesome thing to observe a baby learning their first words, taking their first steps, and becoming more independent, and self-reliant.
I feel so honored to get the opportunity to be a part of Maisie’s world. And, you’ll get to read about all of it. Most likely, my Thursdays will be thoughts of all that we’ve been up to, and how we’re both getting along. Maybe that’s boring for you, but honestly, it’s not really about you, nor is it about me any longer.
I’m kind of sick of talking about myself all the time. I think she’s much more interesting, by far.
With all that being said, I am confident that this will be one adventure worth documenting.
Let the fun begin, right?! Well, not til Monday, that is. Until then, I’m gonna play hard like I did when I was a kid. Remember when you knew that school was starting up soon? You played even harder, stayed up later, and slept til it was lunchtime, knowing that those easy days of summer were fast disappearing. I’m gonna play like that, only I do my playing on the computer. Don’t judge! Like I said earlier, I’m no spring chicken anymore.
My adventures are all virtual. Why? Because my body hurts less, afterwards. You do the math…
First we’re asked to give up the goods on who we thought were underrated people, and now we must seek out an overrated classic book. What gives? Maybe WordPress has pilfered my idea from Monday Messages. It was my idea first, just so you know.
For the sake of WordPress’s reputation, and to maintain my own literary standings, instead of answering the prompt, I’m going to explain it.
Exactly what do they want to know, here? How many really understand what is considered to be overrated about a piece of literature?
Help us out, Mr. McGoogle, would ya…
Commonly cited “overrated” classic books often feature slow pacing, archaic language, or excessive repetition that frustrates modern readers, according to discussions on Reddit and Goodreads. Top examples include The Catcher in the Rye (whiny protagonist), Moby Dick (too much whaling data), and The Great Gatsby (overhyped narrative). [1, 2, 3, 4, 5]
Frequently Cited Overrated Classics
Common Reasons for Overrating
Note: The perception of a book as “overrated” is subjective and often debated among readers, with many of these titles remaining enduring staples of literature for good reason. [1]
While I can’t say that there are any particular books I’ve found to be overrated, per say, though there were a few I wish I hadn’t read. But it wasn’t for the reason of being overrated. I just didn’t enjoy the content of the story.
Forming an opinion about a books rating isn’t something I really practice. I don’t read reviews of a book before choosing to read it. I simply read the description on the back of the cover to decide whether I want to dive in, or not. I have read books that friends have suggested for one reason, or another. But not to rate the story. There was something in the content that I sought, based on what that friend may have shared about the story.
Being that I’m a writer, perhaps it gives me more grace and understanding for those that came before. I appreciate all the hard work that went into creating and publishing those books. While I may not enjoy certain writing styles, I can’t judge the content of a story based on that. How would I like it if someone judged my writing, purely based on whether they like the way I told the story. If one doesn’t like it, another will. Everyone is different, and so there will always be opinions from one end of a topic, to the other.
Though I couldn’t give an answer to the prompt this morning, I did learn more about what makes a book good or bad, underrated or overrated, and whether or not I want to read a book til the end.
That was a bit of a read, wasn’t it? Now I’m hungry.
Let’s eat cookies…
Well, I must admit that Eustace has done an outstanding job on the installing of our ship’s new baby cabin.
The only problem is, where to put the baby. Eustace put so many stuffed camels in the room, we’ll be lucky to get her into the crib. The silly camel is so proud of how the room turned out, I don’t have the heart to tell him we need to tone it down on the plushie bonanza!
Happy Wednesday, everyone.
Hugs
Most would consider answering the prompt with the names of men and women, from our history. But didn’t those grown up folks start out as little people?
When we think of people from history, we don’t often envision them as the children they were, before they became important, famous, or even underrated. Everybody starts out little, regardless of the outcome.
There is so much that goes into being strong, successful, and seen by the world around us, it’s no wonder that so many go underrated. Think of all the underrated ones that work to build up someone else’s notoriety. You don’t think that politicians, scientists, medical professionals, and inventors all reached their popularity by mere self-propulsion, do you?
Those incredible people were all in the sandbox, at one time, rubbing shoulders with all the underrated children. Those little, little people, also grew up. And, it was their hard work, selfless giving, and support that made it possible for the few, the proud, and the glorious ones.
I don’t wish to minimize the giftedness of those that have done amazing things in this world, but I wonder how many of them would be where they are today, were it not for those that helped get them there.
Cookie?
There’s something interesting about that old adage. The three words, themselves, offer the full answer to the prompt, without needing much more information, don’t you think.
One can take a wordy explanation about how to enjoy much more of your life without amassing a garage full of material things… and simply say, less is more.
Don’t get me wrong, here. I, too, once had a garage full of toys, gadgets, and more. It wasn’t like those things just sat, collecting dust. We used them, therefore, we assumed they were necessary wants, not just want wants. It’s easy to justify having more than we actually need. And, it’s not always a bad thing. The reality sets in when the things we put our hopes in, fall away from our grasp.
There was a time when we had plenty, and then suddenly, it was gone… all of it!
How you survive and overcome great loss is what makes you who you are. It will define your character, for the better… or possibly not, depending on how much you valued all that was lost.
What I discovered during our time living in that old R.V., and into our homeless bit, was the art of finding solutions, the act of letting go, and the gift of gratitude!
We live quite modestly, now, compared to before. To some, it may seem impoverished, but quite probably it’s more comfortable than many others will ever experience. We don’t have much, but what we do have is cared for, and never taken for granted. And if we lose it, we replace it, or simply make do without it.
While I could easily come up with a list of things I could use, as anyone might do, I won’t. Why? Because living with minimal things has now become an actual way of life, at least in my mind. I can’t speak for my husband, of course.
The way I see it, having less means there’s more space in my head, my house, and my heart. There’s a sense of freedom in not being tethered to a large amount of materials that are all crying out to be used, repaired, and/or stored somewhere.
When we have to move, we move fast and light. When we exist in small and limited spaces, it’s comfortable and not overcrowded.
And, more importantly, my heart now seeks other treasures and beautiful things. You just might not see what I see. Our home may be empty of many material things, but it’s never truly empty. Instead, it’s full of love, laughter, light, and shared dreams. Dreams that are still yet to come true.
Plus, since there’s so much room in my kitchen, I’ve plenty of space for baking all these cookies…
I want to do things a little differently this morning. I know that we normally pick strange words in the English language, just to learn and understand more about properly reading and writing. But sometimes, life takes us in directions we didn’t see coming. I guess that’s where my mind is, just now.
Don’t get me wrong, I still want to become a famous writer, and all. That’s a dream that will never stop growing, a passion that will never diminish!
What I’m trying to say is that I feel like maybe it would be kind of fun to be a part of something bigger, and much more important.
Wiwohka’s grandbaby will now be with us three days a week, which means that everything is changing around the barnyard. Routines are all going to be different, which won’t allow us to write as much as we normally do. I want to help with the baby, more than I feel like writing, lately. Is that wrong?
I mean, she’s not MY baby, but still. She’s just adorable, and I smile so much when I see her that my cheeks hurt. I’m sure that Wiwohka will need my help, but I don’t really know that much about babies. I was thinking that perhaps I can still practice my reading and writing skills, while still being of use to Wiwohka, and little Maisie.
What if we use Monday Messages to look up different things about babies, and all that goes into caring for them? This will help me learn all about babies, and at the same time, I can practice my spelling and proper word usage. While I doubt this will be anything new for you, it will aid me. What good is an ant that doesn’t know anything, right?!
I do know that babies sleep a lot, eat a lot, and poop a lot. But, aside from that, I’m just certain that there is more to be learned about a baby. So, just to prove this to myself, I shall be embarking on an educational journey through the forests of baby lore. How did they do it way back then? What changes were for the better, and what ones were not so helpful? What things have remained the same, since the beginning?
You see, there are a number of things to study and write about, when it comes to babies. I thought it might be fun to write about Wiwohka’s and Maisie’s journey together, and document all the changes along the way. Plus, if Wiwohka’s daughter reads anything about it, maybe she won’t be so unhappy about going back to work. They visited the other day, and I could tell that she was sad about it. But, our place is just down the road from her work, so she’s not far away. I still feel bad for her, though.
Anyway, I hope you don’t mind me using Monday Messages to learn more about babies. It won’t last forever, as I’ve heard that babies tend to grow very fast. Before you know it, we’ll be back to our regular writings.
Obsession was hardly the word for it! More like consumed, I think. For this little girl, anything to do with horses was where all the fun existed.
I was born and raised on a farm in Oregon, and was surrounded by all manner of farm animals from dawn til dusk. My mamma had me on horseback when I was still in diapers. Our family were avid hunters, so we were most often trail blazing up into some mountain range, or another, in search of good hunting grounds. Since it was easy to lose little ones in the middle of the woods, we were assigned to horseback for the majority of the trail passages. It was just what we did back then, as far as I remember.
When at school, my best friend and I would use our jump ropes and pretend to ride horses around the playground, during recess and lunchtime.
I watched every John Wayne Western, with rapt attention, as well as every other western movie or television show. The original Black Beauty movie was my go-to, along with any other show that featured horses.
My first horse was a paint pony that we named Candy, and I loved her like she was the only horse on the planet! We couldn’t afford a saddle for her, so I rode bareback all the time. It wasn’t a problem since she was as round as a bouncy ball. She was also not very tall at all, so when she bucked me off, it wasn’t far to fall.
Our farm boasted about 250 acres of cattle pasture, so my favorite Saturday activity was to ride the range, as they called it. The fence-line actually had several ranch hand shacks out along the back of our land, which I loved to visit. If I fell off my pony, I could just walk her up to the fence, and then climb back up that way.
My mother would pack us lunches, and my brother and I would take our horses and chase each other around the fields. The best part was pretending to shoot each other and falling off into the large piles of drying hay that lay randomly about the pasture. Those were the days.
My love of horses didn’t end there, though. Eventually, after years of riding whenever I got the chance, I landed a job as a ranch hand/babysitter for a friend of the family. I lived in a renovated tack room, out in the horse stables. I learned how to ride properly, both in Western and English style, as well as all the rest that went into training, breeding, and complete equine husbandry.
From the stables of a horse ranch, to the mountainous meadows of an all girls Christian Horse Camp, if horses were involved… I was all in!
As the years passed, and children arrived, my time was no longer my own. Though I wasn’t able to pursue more horsemanship type careers, I did raise my girls up in the same fashion that my mom did for my childhood. My girls were on horseback from diapers on, and we frequently enjoyed camping, fishing, and hiking with horses. We even spent three summers at a dude ranch in Idaho, riding horses all over the Sawtooth Mountain Range.
It’s been at least 15 years since I sat in the saddle, unless you want to count the numerous hours of computer games that require you to ride a mount. Age, and arthritis, finally caught up with this girl from the farm. My knees, my back, and my neck, have all paid the price of happiness.
While I might not be able to ride horses any more, it has never lessened my love and passion for the beautiful creatures.
Cookie?
Eustace is remodeling a part of our ship to fit a nursery, of all things. Well, we can’t go adventuring this summer, without having a place for Maisie to sleep. Caring for my granddaughter takes priority over all other endeavors, but there’s nothing that says a baby can’t sail the high seas, too.
If I won’t leave any of the Barnyard Babes behind when we depart for distant shores, I’m certainly not going to leave my granddaughter behind!
What kind of Mee-maw, I mean captain, do you think I am?!
Journey With Me! 