I read an interesting article entitled "Things Babies Born in 2011 Will Never Know". It's fascinating to see how things change even in the span of a couple of years. I remember being in awe of my mom's old 8-track player and 8mm family movies (on big reels!) as I played my fancy new tapes and cds and watched Beta movies. And now you would be hard-pressed to find a VHS movie as even DVDs are being phased out. I was not surprised to discover that I'm in the minority (10%) of Americans who still have dial-up internet and therefore still have a home phone line. I still don't have a smartphone (although I try, unsuccessfully, to stop lusting after one).

It's bittersweet to watch the time pass. I love the way that technology can connect us all, and yet, something is lost in this new "community". I've reached the age and stage that I sometimes feel like an "old fogey", a little intimidated by it all. I remember being frustrated that my mom couldn't handle the simplest technological feats (she still hasn't hooked up the DVD player we got her LAST Christmas), but now I'm the one not quite sure how to venture into the new world of devices and online communities. I hate to have to ask for help, especially as my son at 3 years old had to reset my cell phone for me, and my daughter, at 2, is fluent on iPod touch applications (with no instruction by me).

What will you miss from the list, and what are you excited about?

Things I didn't know about before I became a parent (part 1)

* Kids are almost perpetually sick in the beginning. We've had a week or two of wellness this winter...and now it's over. We spent the first two years of our son's life practically living at the doctor's office, and now it's round two with our baby girl.

* It doesn't matter how much you try (breastfeeding, healthy organic foods, vitamins, handwashing, keeping kids at home and sheltered away from sick kids), they will still get sick. All it takes is dropping them off at preschool, and inevitably, some other kid will come over and sneeze right in your precious child's face within seconds of drop-off.

* Complaining about the number of sick kids at preschool and parents who don't take the responsibility for keeping them at home when they're feverish, vomiting, or gushing mucus out of every pore will only get you labeled as the "crazy difficult" parent.

*Sickness in our house means no sleep for anyone (I haven't slept through the night regularly in over 5 years). It progresses to breathing treatments, steroids, multiple rounds of antibiotics, and visits with lots of specialists (who really aren't so special after all). We get a week's reprieve, and then the routine begins again upon return to preschool.

*Parents don't get sick days (see previous post). Although my work awards me paid time off, I didn't realize it would mostly go to tending to sick children.

*But most importantly, I didn't realize that all these illnesses would make me realize how blessed we are not to be dealing with something more serious. As frustrating and draining as the repeated colds, infections, and breathing episodes are, we are haunted by the knowledge that it could be so much worse. We look forward to healing, and continue to pray for friends who are struggling with more serious concerns.

Hope

“Hope” by Emily Dickinson
Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul,
And sings the tune without the words,
And never stops at all,

And sweetest in the gale is heard;
And sore must be the storm
That could abash the little bird
That kept so many warm.

I've heard it in the chillest land,
And on the strangest sea;
Yet, never, in extremity,
It asked a crumb of me.



I can't seem to shake this nagging sense of hope. For a self-proclaimed pessimist, this comes as quite a shock. I'm used to seeing the glass as mostly empty, and occupy my time worrying about worst-case scenarios that are pretty unlikely. So to feel my spirits lift on the cusp of this new year is a little disconcerting. Perhaps it's the relief of overcoming so much in the past couple of years, or the thought of dreams coming to fruition. But I catch myself appreciating more, and daydreaming often of what can be...what will be. I have hope that I will continue to open my eyes and see all the gifts before me, and I have faith that God will continue to transform me, and hopefully use me to help bring transformation in others.

It's a strange feeling, but I think I might get used to it.