The Terrible 30's

The two year old was quietly sitting in her booster seat. It wasn’t until a red balloon came into her sights did she start to stir. She wailed and thrashed herself around.  Scratches on her mom’s arm was proof this sassy girl wasn’t giving up. The same scenario happened after the older girl said she was full. A delicious piece of chocolate cake was placed in front of her dad. She wanted that cake even though her tummy was making noises and cramping. When her dad took a call, she snuck a bite. When he returned he demanded to know who took a bite. The older girl took a deep breath and then blamed the two year old. 

Funny how people want what they didn’t know existed or what they didn’t know they needed. As children we learn to cry or throw a fit when something doesn’t go our way.  We learn how to fight for our fair share. Whether another kid’s toy or the candy sticking out in plain view. As we grow older we learn to stop the impulse to take whatever we want or pitch a tantrum at will. 

As teenagers we learn to manipulate and use things to our advantage. Any tidbit of information can be used in our favor.  This comes in handy in school when you catch a conversation about the boy you are crushing on. A whisper about a house party tickles the eardrum. Observation is a teenager’s secret weapon. 

Being an adult and wanting comes at a price. Adults want to the best house, the lucrative job, and the perfect marriage. When those things don’t happen, we stew. Resentment takes over and spirals into guilt and regret. Someone else is in possession of what we want. It would be easy to regress back to our two year old selves. Scream and grab at what we think should belong to us. Act like a rebellious teenager and scheme to get our way? As we see in reality shows and the news, people do use these tactics. Wanting may cost us. It could cost us our current jobs, current marriages, current state of being.  Some have an affair; few may pick up and move far away. My adult self would rather just accept the conditions then disturb them. 

I wish I could act like a two year old. No longer caring about other’s feelings or if they get hurt.  I wouldn’t sweat over leaving people and things behind in my wake. Unfortunately, I’m not a toddler.  I tend to care too much what people think and feel. Often times at the expense of my own feelings and wants.  Although the wanting is still there, I have to be an adult. It is time to put on my big girl pants and deal with life as it comes.

Lost Days of Innocence

Cotton candy taste

Milkshake dreams, candy dazed heads

Running around till street lights dim

Playing in dirt, making messes with paste

Torn band aid where skinned knees bled

Children’s laughter is the best medicine

Rose tinted faces, sticky hands now wet

Soggy mittens, knotty stringy hair

Crowded playground, whipping cars along with street

Little things mean a lot like loose change found

Moving higher and higher on the swing set

Egged on by friends, big kids start to stare

World looking miniature underneath small feet

With courage, jumping off and landing on the ground

I just want to hear the children play

No longer a fight over silly rules
Such as bedtimes at early twilight

Sense of security, cavity of society decays

Playgrounds once full of life become eerily silent
On that somber and tragic Friday.  -Karen Pilarski

The New By: Karen Pilarski

The countdown begins. Soon horns will blare and colorful confetti will stick on tongues.  The slushy sidewalks now disturbed by shoe imprints. Flash pictures and drunken texts are reminders of the intoxicated rush of excitement.  Last calls and missed opportunities won’t sour the sheer happiness of the New Year.
Newness is exhilarating.

The feeling something out in the world is untainted and untouched. No residue of past accidents or physical and emotional injury.  Lack of prior knowledge or scars left over from decades ago. No bumps hiding during the test drive to see if the ride will be smooth.  Like the new year, a promise of good things to come. Promises and resolutions made as people get caught up in the ‘new’.

There is the term used called a classic. Something out in the world that has withstood time.  An object or person from long ago that survived frosty fronts, scratches and jabs.

Unfortunately, if the will isn’t there, the old classic will be abandoned. The wear and tear will be too much to bear.  Once shiny and clean will become stale and rusted. No matter how many new years have come to pass, it won’t ever have that fresh scent.

If it was ever valued it could be repaired brand new. If beloved, it would have been kept in great shape. In fact it most likely was restored after hard work and determination.

If only that feeling could be bottled up and sprayed in the air. Maybe then the yearning for the ‘new’ would dissipate like colorful confetti littered on wet ground.