There’s a new blog in the family! My daughter, Melaina, started her own today. I hope you’ll take a moment and check out Prattling of a Housewife.

When Melaina was growing up, I thought she was most like her Dad but now that she’s older, with a family of her own, I realize that she’s become more and more like me. It should be no surprise then, that she loves to write and I’m proud to say that she’s good at it. She’s just a couple of courses short of a university degree with a major in English and I’ve had the privilege of editing many of her papers. Now I’m looking forward to reading what she writes of a more personal nature. Of course, I’m also looking forward to more pictures and anecdotes from the lives of two of my grandchildren!

Welcome to the world of blogging, Melaina!

I have always loved to write. Even as a student, I was the weird kid in class who liked writing assignments. Long before the advent of the internet and blogging, I tried my hand at freelance writing and had a few short articles published. Recently, I came across one of them. It was written in early 1980 shortly after the birth of my second child. As I read through it, I realized that my daughter could have written it today and so I decided to reprint it here. Melaina, Robin, Chrissy, Seiko, Natalee, Mardell and all the other young moms out there who’ve made the choice to stay at home with your children, this one’s for you!

The Vanishing Breed

Sometimes I feel as though I am a member of a vanishing breed. All around me young women like myself are having babies, finding sitters and returning to work but I have chosen to be a full time housewife and mother. I do not bother trying to fancy up my position by calling myself a homemaker or a domestic engineer because it simply is not a fancy position. I am on call twenty-four hours a day every day. My job offers no sick leave, no holidays, no pay, no prestige and no hope for advancement.

Why, then, have I chosen this way of life? It most definitely was not a matter of necessity. I have a university degree and could be earning a salary equal to my husband’s. If I returned to work I could easily afford to pay a babysitter and could also hire someone to take over some of my household chores. In addition to this, I would also be able to afford some of the luxuries that I am presently doing without.

I do not believe that laziness was the reason for my choice. My days are very full for mine is a demanding job and I have many roles to fill. I am a teacher, a counsellor, a housekeeper, a cook and a laundress. Sometimes I am a seamstress, a hairdresser, a chauffeur, a gardener, a decorator or a first aid worker.

In spite of its drawbacks I chose my career for purely selfish reasons. I feel that it gives me greater personal satisfaction than any other could. I enjoy my children immensely. Certainly they get on my nerves at times but every aspect of their growth and development fascinates me. I have no interest whatsoever in paying someone else to enjoy their childhood while I pursue a career outside the home.

I would be lying if I claimed that I enjoyed housework to the same extent that I enjoy time spent with my children. I do appreciate a clean, comfortable home and find a certain amount of satisfaction in keeping mine that way but I must admit that I do not become as ecstatic as the typical TV housewife over shining floors or sweet smelling laundry. Many times the tedious household chores are left waiting while I read to the children or take them for a walk.

In spite of the fact that sleepless nights and dirty diapers do not seem to compare very favourably with the glamour of the working world, my job does have many advantages. Because I am my own boss and my schedule is very flexible, I have a great deal of freedom that is lacking in most other professions. I am not constantly trying to meet deadlines and am not forced to compete with others. I have only myself and my family to please.

I do not want to imply that my choice would be right for all women but I do resent the fact that those of us who have chosen to be ‘just a housewife’ are often made to feel as though we are simply unambitious and somehow inferior to ‘the working woman’. Perhaps someday, when my children are older, I will return to work but in the meantime I am proud to consider myself a valuable member of society fulfilling an important and satisfying role.

I don’t make New Year’s resolutions. Being a list maker at heart, I used to make a list of things that I hoped to accomplish in each new year but I made the mistake of making these lists too long, biting off more than I could possibly hope to chew. As a result, I’d near the end of each year under a cloud of discouragement. The easy answer was to quit making these lists. No more self imposed guilt!

Though I no longer write my onerous annual lists, I believe that having life goals is a good thing. Faith Keith, a fitness competitor whose blog I recently began reading, posted a simple but wonderful list. I hope she doesn’t mind if I adapt it slightly and adopt it as my own. As the future unfolds, I would like

Twas the day before New Year’s and all through the house not a creature was stirring…

The last of our kids and grandkids left yesterday and the house seems very quiet this morning! It also seems a lot bigger than it did for the past week when our numbers swelled from two to ten. The playpen, the crib mattress and the baby gate have been put away and there’s no longer a basket of toys in the livingroom. The childproof latches are gone from the cupboards and there are no booster seats at the table. The refrigerator, which was bursting at the seams a few days ago, has space to spare and the washer and dryer have been working overtime taking care of all the additional bedding and towels. Gram and Grandpa are relaxing and revelling in Christmas memories.

I read a hilarious post earlier this week by a blogger who referred to what she called Unrealistic Holiday Expectations Syndrome (UHES). According to her post holiday quiz, ours was a definite success. Like any family get together, there were a few glitches, of course. I’m not sure how a suitcase can get lost on a direct flight from Vancouver to Edmonton but one of Matt and Robin’s did and wasn’t delivered until the following afternoon. Of greater concern was the fact that 2 year old, Drew, arrived from Calgary with croup and his 15 month old cousin, Sam, took it home to Vancouver with him. Not much fun for the little guys and definitely worrisome for the mommies and daddies.

Other than that, the week went well. I planned a menu in advance and made sure I had all the ingredients on hand so cooking for the crowd was easy. Matt and Robin took over the kitchen a couple of times making us yummy cinnamon buns for Christmas breakfast and a tasty Thai meal a few days later. Melaina and I had both done lots of baking so there was no shortage of goodies.

Drew on Christmas morn

La De Da, Clippity Clop

Once again, we were thoroughly spoiled with bulging stockings and loads of gifts under the tree on Christmas morning. Though Drew was feeling pretty rough that day, he loved his Lightning McQueen pyjamas, robe and slippers. Buzz Lightyear pyjamas were also a big hit and I spotted him playing with his tiny John Deere tractor several times. Sam was pleased with the tractor and farm animals that we gave him but his favourite gifts were quite obviously his very own umbrella and his broom! We had great fun watching 8 month old Jami-Lee enjoy her little rocking horse and I’m sure that its La De Da, Clippity Clop tune will be running through our heads for a long time!

Sam never has to bundle up like this in Vancouver!

Even the weather cooperated giving us a few warmer than average days so that we were able to get the little guys outside for a bit of fun in the snow. Nathan spent several hours out on the golf course breaking cross country ski trails. I really should have gone with him but I didn’t manage to tear myself away from the grandchildren! Now that life has quietened down, I’ll put the trails to good use though.

For the most part, we’re a game playing family. Many hours were spent gathered around the kitchen table playing Carcassonne, Settlers of Catan, Apples to Apples and Ticket to Ride while the children were napping or after they went to bed at night.

Yes, all in all, it was a wonderful Christmas!

There’s that word again. Hope! It seems to keep cropping up these days. To see what I mean you’ll have to check the link.

Our alarm rang at 6:00 this morning and an hour later we were on the road to Edmonton with about a dozen others from our church. We were bound for Hope Mission where we prepared and served brunch to almost 300 of the city’s impoverished and homeless people.

In 1929, a young pastor with a heart for people struggling with life on the street at the onset of the Depression opened a soup kitchen. With the support of his wife and a concerned community, a simple meal was served to hundreds of people each day. Since that time the services provided by Hope Mission, a non profit Christian care agency, have grown to include basic and emergency care; shelter beds; counselling and referral services for men, women and youth; after school hot meal and recreation programs for children; summer camps for inner city children and youth; and faith based addiction treatment programs in addition to the hearty meals that are served three times a day during the week and twice a day on Saturdays and Sundays.

Under the capable direction of a cook who has been employed by the Mission for 18 years, we worked side by side with several men from the addiction recovery program to prepare a hearty meal of eggs, sausages, hash browns, toast, porridge and coffee. Muffins and fresh fruit were also available to anyone who wanted them.

I was amazed at how quickly and efficiently we were able to prepare such a large volume of food. We arrived at 10:00 a.m. and within minutes we’d all been given tasks to do. After helping load hundreds of eggs into large metal bins that fit into a big steamer, I helped fill tiny plastic serving containers with margarine. The doors opened at 11:00 and for the next hour, I loaded hash browns onto serving trays as the hungry men and a few women filed by to pick up their hot food. There was a steady flow of people but as we passed the trays down our line and loaded them with food, we had a few moments to offer each person a smile or a quick greeting. Some were quiet but many greeted us and thanked us graciously. A few joked with us or wished us a Merry Christmas. The doors closed at noon and when everyone had had time to eat, they were sent back into the cold and clean up began. Again, this was accomplished quickly and efficiently. In no time, we were sitting down with the fellows we’d cooked the meal with to enjoy some of the leftovers. We’d been so busy that we really hadn’t had time to realize that we’d worked up an appetite!

With Christmas just around the corner, we’ve been reminded once again how very fortunate we are to have a warm home and more than enough to eat.

“I tell you the truth, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me.” Jesus     Matthew 25:40

I don’t even remember getting my first pair of glasses as I was only two! I do remember that they were red. I must have been a gentle child as they lasted for several years. Obviously, I wasn’t perfect though. I do remember them going to work with my Dad a couple of times and coming home magically repaired. Eventually I outgrew them and had to get larger frames. The next couple of pairs didn’t fare as well. My baby brother pulled one pair off my face and rolled over on them and I ran over the next pair with the runner of a bob sleigh! How glad I am that none of my children had to wear glasses!

It’s amazing how eyeglass fashions have changed over the years. Believe it or not, I thought this pair was absolutely beautiful! As soon as I saw them, I just had to have them but they were quite expensive. My mother tried to talk me into settling for something a little less pricey but when she saw how badly I wanted them, she gave in. I remember them as a gift of love from a mother who recognized how important it was for her self conscious daughter to feel good about how she looked.

I was fortunate in my later teen years to be able to go without glasses for awhile. I used daily eye drops instead but this was an experimental drug and when studies began to show that prolonged use caused cysts, it was discontinued. How disappointing! It did get me through those vulnerable high school years though and I was fortunate not to suffer any negative side effects.

Later, I wore contacts for many years. Eventually bifocals were recommended but I was able to delay them for a period of time by wearing non prescription reading glasses over the contacts when I needed them! The day came, however, when one of my contacts was literally blown out of my eye and lost during a vicious snowstorm. I accepted the fact that the time had come to make the switch back to glasses. That’s when I got my first progressive lenses.

Over the years, I’ve had some truly ugly glasses. How could anyone ever have thought that these ones were attractive? Of course, it was the early 80s and in those days, all the stylish eyeglass wearers were bug eyed!

I hate buying new frames. Without corrective lenses, I can’t see well enough to know what the various options look like on me. For years, I’ve tried to choose glasses that didn’t stand out; ones that blended in with my natural colouring. For awhile that was easy as wire frames and gold tones were in fashion. Not anymore! Today’s trendy frames are bold, dark colours and meant to be noticed. I’ve been wearing a brand new pair for the past couple of days and I’m still surprised when I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I’m really not sure if I like what I see. I’m afraid that they make me look older and grouchier but maybe that’s because I can see the wrinkles and frown lines more clearly through them!

Here’s the old look and the new. Be honest; what do you think?

I guess, in the long run, the main thing is that I can see, not what I look like!