Just as many have been forgotten completely.
This is the price I must pay for being a slacker when it comes to documenting my family's lives.
Pictures will have to suffice.
|The many stylings of Faye|
|My darling grandmother meeting Beth for the first time. Aren't they both beauties?|
|The first time I have ever done Faye's hair curly. She has beautiful curly hair, I just don't have the time or patience usually. The pink was her little touch.|
|Greeting a new tree, sizing it up, and getting ready to climb it.|
|What happens when I feed the baby.|
|Evidence of a most glorious storm this past weekend.|
|Keith's gorgeous face. Tragically swollen up from allergies.|
In preparation for that, I have been trying to send them to bed earlier. Keith went down just fine tonight. Faye, however, refused to calm down and sleep. She would play on Keith's bed, trying to engage him. After several warnings, I didn't know what to do, so I decided to pull a punishment out of my past.
Growing up, my parents were very strict when it came to bedtime. At least it seemed that way to my child brain. I don't remember playing instead of sleeping, though I am sure I did. I shared a bedroom for most of my growing up life. I like to play with anyone who will join me.
I recall my parents catching me out of bed ("I just need another drink! I just needed to use the bathroom! etc.") and so my dad made me go stand in the middle of the living room in scorpion position. Which is downward dog with one leg lifted and bent. For those who don't speak Yoga, it is hands down on the ground, feet flat on the floor so the body is in a sort of V shape with the bum in the air. Scorpion is with one leg lifted and crooked back. Like a scorpion's tail.
I had to stand like that for an hour. At least that is what it seemed like. It was probably really only five minutes.
Another time I had to stand in the middle of the room on one foot.
For an hour.
Again, probably only five minutes in reality.
But the worst punishment ever, was when I was given chores.
My parents were big on giving us chores, too.
I remember one time when I couldn't sleep, and so had to help paint and rearrange the family room. I remember helping to move a big, all wood, heavy bookcase. My eyes were drooping and it was all I could do to keep them open. My body was tired, and I just wanted my bed! When I was finally permitted to go to bed, I simply collapsed.
Genius of my dad, I think.
I didn't think so at the time. I thought it was child abuse back then.
And so, I implemented the cleaning punishment on Faye.
I told her since she didn't want to sleep, she could help me clean up the family room. The room that she and her brother had recently demolished while playing.
From the moment I told her she needed to clean, she began protesting that she was too tired and just wanted to go to bed.
I insisted she help, and together, we got the room clean in record time.
And then, she went to bed.
And to sleep.
I have to remember this "teaching" mode.
My parents were so smart!
Can't say that I mind much, though. Her sweetness just elevates me. Her smell, her cuddles, and her grunts.