Outrunning the Mothers curse.

               The household I grew up in was classified as "Chaotically Disengaged". Basically that means crazy and inconsistent. I enjoyed the insanity on most days. There was very little boredom and as an environment for a "non-linear" ADHD type child, long before there was a diagnosis, it turned into a pretty good fit.

                    To be fair, I was not an easy child to raise. At age seven or so, my mother would attempt to ground me. Sent to my room, I took apart my toys, transistor radios and calculators, along with anything else I could find, just to see how they worked. Often this was the initial cause of said groundings.

           I found interesting consequences to some of my experiments. On one such occasion I had the back of my walkie-talkie off and was adjusting the painted trim pots on the circuit board.

          I heard my mother swear from downstairs and get up to change the channel thru the four channels that we could recieve. This was long before cable and our T.V. reception was contingent on the station signal and the antennae perched precariously on our roof. Evidentaly, it seemed to be affected by my dissected  walkie- talkies, also. Before the disruption my mother was watching her soap opera. It was her only solace and the one single thing in her life that gave her a sense of continuity and sanity. I heard more cursing. I heard it getting louder.

                  Most children would take this as a sign to stop and desist.

                     I removed the heating vent near my dresser very quietly and tied the walkie- talkie by its antennae with a foot of fishing line to the grates fins and then gently lowered it down into the duct, being careful not to make contact with the ducts tin sides.

             I then seated the vent cover into its space and waited...

                 The next couple hours were not very pretty. Or quiet. Let's just say that my mother never found the exact source of the white fuzz and incessant buzzing from our T.V. set. Eventually, similar to Pavlovs test subjects, she put together the stimuli and effect. From then on I found myself grounded less and less..

                         Have you ever heard of the mothers curse? The one where they wish that you have a child just like yourself ? I have heard that curse thousands of times by now...

                    In some ways, it has come true. My son Jacob has been called my clone by my mother and her side of the family. I see in him the non-stop action, over the top energy and penchant for theatrics and over acting that I used to have. Nicholas has inherited my non-linear bend and a mind for thinking in systems. He is an outsider, a thinker and a watcher. Stephen is my rebel. His heart is amazingly sensitive and his will  is so strong that it scares me. When right, he refuses to back down.

        In them all, I see parts of the child I was, but by Gods grace I see influences that are not mine.

              I see in them my Wonderful Wife's gentleness and sensibilities. I see her rationality and common sense emanate from these children of ours. I see her unquenchable faith transferred  into all of them, simple and uncomplicated yet by an impending adulthood.

            Beyond our input, I hear our Churchs child workers and Bible school teachers. I hear in our boys Pastors stories and years of immersion in Temples children activities.

         So the curse? Is it real? Ask any parent and the answer is a resounding YES!

                                       But it is not absolute.

                There are greater forces at work and greater influences than my crazy childhood, long past, guiding their lives. They have Jesus and a soul all their own. Parts of me may exist in them, but they  are Children of God first...Foremost and always...