I have been wondering if I and my spousal partner in crime are less concerned about the ginormous number of things everyone else with kids seems to worry about (rashes, hitting milestones on time or earlier, watching or not watching TV etc.) because we are a) older and wiser than the average parent of a 16 month old; b) older and thus more tired than the average parent of a 16 month old; c) generally cool, calm and easy going individuals who don’t freak out about a lot in general anyway or d) clueless and thus blissful.
I am going to go with a combination of a and c. And a little of b thrown in. This thought process began with a meeting of the mamas in my neighborhood. We try to get together once a month to get out of the house without kids and men, and to eat a lot of good food and/or drink more than we normally would at home. Not that we drink that much of course. Anyway, there are a few vegetarians in the group, one by choice the others for religious reasons – they are practicing Hindus. There are some who were very into breast feeding and being organic with everything. This led to a discussion about the source of meat in your local grocery store vs. the evil empire, Whole Foods.
I am someone who should not think too hard about the food she eats, about how it was grown, how it was processed, what it was before it was killed for the nurishment of my body, things like that. If I think too hard about it, I won’t eat. I might eat jello. No, wait, that is made from gelatin and that came from the hooves of horses and cows and pigs and I just considered that they might have souls and ugh, another joyful childhood tradition flushed down the toilet.
So I don’t think too hard about it. I try to be healthy, I buy organic produce when possible, but let’s face it, sometimes it is WAY too expensive, and looks like it was left by the side of the road a little too long. I try to recycle, I am good at shutting off lights and not running the water too long when I brush my teeth.
But this one mama, a very nice, intelligent, conscientious woman, would not stop talking about meat. It was beginning to turn on that part of my brain that makes me eat only pasta for a week because no one died, that I know of, to feed me and I am unlikely to catch any diseases from it. Probably. Anyway, then it occurred to me that I still have grandparents alive. I am a product of the 60’s and 70’s when we probably ate food that was poisoned with DDT. And I am still here to talk about it, with all my fingers and toes, and I gave birth to a son with all of his digits intact. My grandparents are in their late 80’s. These are the grandparents who drank and smoked and were kind of jet setty in their heyday and they are still here – see pictures above. So I figure that there is something to be said for one’s DNA too. And that sometimes being less stressed, not worrying and chilling out with a hamburger and fries every so often does just as much for your quality of life than being wound up about the source of the burger. I think most things take care of themselves, if you are aware of your life, don’t sleep walk through it, and are respectful of yourself, others and the universe. Be responsible, take care of the things you can, but don’t get in a tizzy over the things you can’t.
My brother would have a different take on this, but that is a different story for a different time.