Some Times, and to some, Tough Is Normal.

Unlike how I raise my own children, my father had certain issues in which he gave no pardon. He never raised his voice or anything, but there was never doubt about his opinion or stand. And I never even thought about disagreeing when he told me to do something. My kids think everything is up for negotiation, but that was not the case at all, when I grew up.

From May to September, my dad told me: “I do not care when you go to sleep; actually I don't care if you sleep at all!!!!! But 6:30 in the morning you will be dressed, boots on and ready to go”.

Every Sunday morning, from May to September that is, my dad and I went up in the mountains to count and check on the flock. He would only walk as far as above the treeline, and then he would use his stick to point where he wanted me and the dog to go.

Often we crisscrossed the mountainside for hours. Just to make sure the sheep were all right. Good thing we are talking about sheep here, because sheep like to stay at the same area, they do not scatter about.

I didn’t really mind. I was in good shape when I was young, and the early, crisp mornings offered amazing experiences. Black adders sunbathing, deer which ran off into the boscage, eagles hovering above me, high up in the sky, making sure I didn’t get too close to the nest. (We had two pairs of eagles, each with a nest in the scree near the top.)

Pouring, summer-warm rain or humid, sunny mornings; bearing promises for a wonderful summers day.

 

One time I carried a sick lamb back home, carrying it across my neck. I wasn’t used to carry sheep, and it didn’t really fit very well, so I walked back home with my neck bent in a strange angle.

You know those paintings/posters of Jesus carrying the one lost sheep? There is nothing relaxed or romantic about it! It was brutal… on me, not the lamb.

One Sunday I remember particularly well. It was fall and we had our annual sheep round-up. We came home missing 7 animals. Standing on the country courtyard, listening to the silence of a Sunday morning still wet from the heavy dew I heard them bleat, then I saw them close to the top… they must have wandered behind the mountain for the night and not returned until after we left. Anyway: I went back up with the dog and brought them home.

That afternoon I went to my boyfriend’s grandmother’s birthday party, and I was so exhausted I just burst into tears for no good reason at all.

Back then we didn’t carry water-bottles or packed sandwiches: we lived in, by, with, off nature, both summer and winter, and it was our backyard, so we went up there, did our thing and went back home.

In fall we picked berries and went hunting. In winter we chopped wood, so it would dry over the year. When I had time, I carried my skies as far up as I could (depending on hazard of avalanches) and had a great skiing ride back down home. My friends used to go to the ski resort, but I never did that. I grew up in a skiing eldorado, but never learned how to ski properly.

In spring we mended the fences, and cut the most damaged brush (caused by avalanches), to open passages and trails. During summer we harvested grass and went to check on animals grazing. My horse would sometimes join in too; checking on the flock and the surrounding farms’ cattle.

Today most farms have quit husbandry; there are hardly any animals grazing in the mountains anymore, fewer pick berries, and only a few go hunting these days. To tend to the forest and brush have become neglected and the passages are not kept open anymore, the way they used to be.

Now people drive somewhere to find more friendly tracks to go hiking. 

 

To me there is a funny twist, though. These days, each fall, sportsmen from all over the country, the elite, and anyone else absorbingly preoccupied with health and sports, enlist for a race; running from town center (the marina) to the top of the mountain. They say it is very prestigeous. And very, very tough.

To Have Or Have Not - Children

Not long ago I was talking to a coworker of mine who is going through a somewhat hard time. Oh, she has a very good life: a husband who loves her, a great house, a neat car, always fashionably dressed, they travel a lot; always on high class.

She regularly pamper herself with spa, massages, hair and nails always perfect and while looking good she enjoys an extensive social life and attend cultural events like concerts and theatre on a regular basis.

One should think she hasn’t got any worries at all, but she does: She has reached an age when she has to decide whether or not to have children.

Her husband is fine living the way he does. He doesn’t dismiss the thought of having children, and he knows he will love them to the moon and back, but if he never becomes a father he will not feel he has something undone in life.

She, on the other hand, feels greater pressure from people in their circle to become a mother. I keep telling her this is a decision she has to make based on her own wishes and needs, otherwise she is changing her entire life based on other people's expectations, and that is not fair neither to her nor the future children.

Another coworker of mine felt the lack of a child so agonizing and such a strain on her very being she became physically sick. Mentally she was fine apart from the sorrow, which is very mind consuming.

She and her husband decided years ago to adopt because they could not have a child biologically theirs.

Until the decision was made they were fine. During the social and financial enquiries they were fine. But when all the formalities were over and done with, and the waiting started, it was like the world crumbled and they went into a private bubble of anticipation.

In my experience (and I know this since I have many years of experience), parenting is both a wonderful and a challenging experience. It takes over your life in ways you never expected beforehand.

Many books will tell you it can put a great deal of pressure on relationships. Forget that. There is nothing can, may or probably about it: It does! You have to put yourself second in every aspect of living. You won’t get enough sleep for years, you can’t plan your days and be sure it will turn out the way you expect.

You may think that nights will be time off; time to live out the person you used to be. I wouldn’t count on it. There is always something left to do, or situations occur which forces you to reschedule. Many get a shock when they get a child. You can’t really plan what it will be like. Extreme situations change a person, and having a child is really extreme. To have your entire life changed overnight is… special.

To be a parent is the most important responsibility people undertake and a loving and supportive relationship helps parents face the challenges of child rearing.

As babies develop into toddlers, then young children and then teenagers and finally adults, it becomes clear that parenting is one of the most demanding jobs a person can do. As kids grow up, you may think they will be more independent, more self-driven… and they are, but they still need you. In different ways, but you still have to be there for them to a large degree.

It isn’t easy to be a couple, two adults who can do just about anything they like, to suddenly become a family of three or four. Sleepless nights and everything else parenthood brings along take its toll.

Lack of sleep makes us edgy, and often arguments start because you need to express how badly you need your sleep. It’s like a competition: who slept the most or the least hours last week. Who got up and soothed the child, changed the diaper, fed or comforted the baby. Statistically most breakups happen when the child is between one and three years old.

Among my friends, I see that single parents often cope the best, because they don’t count on another person to ease the hard work.

I think it is ok not to have children, I think it is a fair choice not to have them... and if you can't biologically; it is allowed to think it is ok. Easy for me to say who got them... but I don't know what kind of person I would have been without them... what I do know, is that my lifestyle would be very different, and that I would have reached a totally different level of self realisation. It does not mean I don't love my kids to pieces, and I have no regrets or remorse over having them... but I, as a person, would have fulfilled my potential to a higher degree as far as my own interests are concerned.

Do I enjoy spending my holidays in waterparks and fairground attractions? Do I like being tugged and called for at all times? Do I feel at ease with my house at all times being messy with toys and gadgets all over? No!

Do I mind interrupted meals, reading the same childrens' book 372 times? Yes. Do I mind enough not to enjoy watching my kids learn, grow, develop into independent individuals with their very own unique personalities? No: I am selfish enough to look at my children and think they complete something fundamental in me as a person. They give me unconditional love, which is returned, even when we disagree.

And yet: The best time of the day is when they are asleep and I check in on them, and place a soft peck on their cheek  ... Just saying.