According to my post counting thing, this will be my post 400 in the publish column. A milestone worthy of mention, although I suspect I will be much more excited about 500, because it seems like such a flashier milestone. That I have made it to 400 posts (and plan to be around for at least another 100, to the next big milestone) surprises me for a number of reasons.
- Typically as my enthusiasm for projects wanes so does my productivity. I imagined 2 months of posts, max.
- People comment and say super nice things! Before I actually started blogging myself I never allowed myself to consider such a thing happening for me. THANK YOU! This is a huge part of my continued enthusiasm and engagement with blogging.
- My ability to write about nothing must be my redemption for my inability to develop the art of small talk. Whether it is a social anxiety disorder, I am still on the quiet and shy side (stop laughing out there, all of you who know me in real life!), or something else, I find it painful to try and make small talk with anyone. Makes me feel like a poor guest for parties.
- Lack of blog focus and direction gives me lots of room to simply chat about whatever happens to cross my mind. Plus share pictures of the adopted fluff buckets and G’s pups (aka gratuitous cat and dog pics).
It has been an amazing journey thus far, and I wish I had new words to express my gratitude to each and every one of you. Thanks for reading, thanks for liking, thanks for following, and thanks for commenting. Thanks for the opportunity to read, explore, and comment on your blogs and share a little part of your world as well.
With that little bit of celebratory business out of the way, on the to next item on my agenda: grandparenting.
One of my closest friends texted last night that her daughter is expecting and she will be crossing over into that grandparent realm. I am delighted for them, because I know her daughter/son-in-law have been waiting/hoping/trying for a couple of years now and my friend has been anxious that there is something amiss with one or both of their health. She is happily past the 3 month mark now and hopefully her all-day nausea and sickness will be fading as well.
With so many of my friends now grandparents, awaiting that first grandbaby to make his/her grand entrance, or hoping to be grandparents sooner rather than later, I have had some time to think about it and what it would be like. My analysis: I am in absolutely no rush to have the experience. If it never happened for me I would be okay with it, because this is very far removed from being about me and what I might want.
Over the course of my ponderings, the ridiculousness of my thought process starts to manifest. I imagine myself as a lousy grandmother, being older and crotchety and set-in-my-ways. I imagine myself … turning into my mother (*SHUDDER*). While both scenarios could happen, both seem farther removed from the reality of who I am as a person.
But then … what if I don’t like my grandchildren? Hey, this is not as far-fetched as it sounds inside my own head. I love my children to the farthest corners of Heaven and back, but I really like and enjoy them because of the people they are and are evolving into. They are kind, funny, compassionate, and very nice people; their good qualities far outweigh their quirks. What if they, my fabulous kids that I raised, have children who embrace the darkness? I know several nice people who have complete jerks for kids and I help wondering if it’s genetics or something more sinister in their upbringing?
Having grown up with a parent who openly practiced favoritism, I have bent over backwards to avoid it with my own children, and I believe I have largely succeeded. When it comes to the next generation, though, I wonder if I will be ass successful and as objective. As an example, I moved about 20 miles away from my family home and raised my children within short driving distance of my parents. As a result, my folks saw the kids all the time growing up and were relatively close to them. My sister, the favorite child, married a man my parents hated and moved 1800 miles away, returning once a year to visit. My mother did not actually like her children much and greatly favored my own, much to my chagrin. It actually got to the point where she would suggest my sister come alone on her visits, leaving the kids at home. How sad is that?
So while my fears are ridiculous and irrational, they do have some basis in direct observation of genetically connected family members’ behaviors. Thankfully my minor (and mindless) obsessive thinking is just pointless pondering this morning. For my friend and her daughter, I am thrilled and excited and wondering what sort of baby gift will be in order. For myself, I will just keep posting the gratuitous puppy pics and be thankful and happy for the good health and happiness of my family, just as it is right now.