So, I never thought that I’d ever be raising my kids like this. Like, ever. Little farm girl, 4-Her Gracie? No way.
I was brought up rurally. My kids are growing up urban.
I grew up not only in North America, but in Montana and Wyoming, a class all its own. My kids are not only growing up in Africa (and that’s a looong way from Montana!), but in urban Uganda. Like, not even cool mud hut, rustic, haul–water-on-your-head Uganda.
More like wow, I really feel like a homely frump while waiting in the line for the ATM with a bunch of meticulously and stylishly dressed women, not a Carrhart to be found, Uganda. The traffic is stinky, everyone’s on mobile phones, and look out for that cow sleeping in the road right next to the internet café and the woman driving by in the $100,000 Land Cruiser. Oh, and don’t forget the Russians. Our lives would not be complete without the creepy Russians. Yeah, weird.
I grew up feeding my dog crunchy dog food. My kids are growing up feeding their dogs a mixture of chicken mash (no kidding), corn flour and full bodied, dried little fish that we have to cook up in a big pot each day.
I grew up thinking that goats were kept in pens or fields. My kids are growing up thinking that goats are kept tied by one leg, anwhere. There is no limit to where one can keep a goat. The middle of a busy town? No problem. Tied to the tree in your yard? Why not?
I grew up shopping with my mom at a supermarket, Blairs, riding in shopping carts down shiny smooth floors with deli’s, public restrooms, cash registers and stuff. My kids shop at the market which is held once a week in a soccer field. It is like a supermarket in that you can buy just about anything there, but yeah, the floor is far from being shiny and smooth, there are deli's, no restrooms (which honestly doesn’t seem to stop some people), and no cash registers.
I grew up not seeing naked people. Ever. My kids are growing up seeing naked people all the time. Like, naked children don’t even faze them and they don’t even bat an eye or make rude comments when observing someone breastfeeding. And trust me, they don’t use little blankets to cover themselves here! You see all. Consequently my kids don’t mind baring it all, themselves. Little Gracie never would have been caught in her unders in public let me tell yah!
I grew up not having the foggiest idea what a mobile phone was (they hadn’t really been invented yet – and neither was the laptop!). My kids are growing up with at least three toy mobile phones and their own toy computers.
I grew up not ever seeing real poverty up close. My kids are growing up seeing up close and in your face poverty all the time.
I grew up hardly ever going out to eat. My kids get to all the time!
I guess what gets to me the most is the sheer urbaneness of my children’s upbringing, which is sooo not me. They are used to the sheer mass of humanity that we pass every week in the market, when we drive to the store, go to Kampala, or walk down the road. They are CITY KIDS!!
BUT. If I must raise my children in an urban environment, at least I get to do it in Entebbe where we have neighborhood cows that we can go watch be milked and there are always lots of chickens and neighborhood goats scampering around. When we get back from our furlough next year we are going to get some chickens and goats of our own, so I might be able to appease myself a bit. Our land is further out of Entebbe too, so it won’t feel like we’re living right in the middle of town as much. It won’t be Montana but it will do good enough!
I was brought up rurally. My kids are growing up urban.
I grew up not only in North America, but in Montana and Wyoming, a class all its own. My kids are not only growing up in Africa (and that’s a looong way from Montana!), but in urban Uganda. Like, not even cool mud hut, rustic, haul–water-on-your-head Uganda.
More like wow, I really feel like a homely frump while waiting in the line for the ATM with a bunch of meticulously and stylishly dressed women, not a Carrhart to be found, Uganda. The traffic is stinky, everyone’s on mobile phones, and look out for that cow sleeping in the road right next to the internet café and the woman driving by in the $100,000 Land Cruiser. Oh, and don’t forget the Russians. Our lives would not be complete without the creepy Russians. Yeah, weird.
I grew up feeding my dog crunchy dog food. My kids are growing up feeding their dogs a mixture of chicken mash (no kidding), corn flour and full bodied, dried little fish that we have to cook up in a big pot each day.
I grew up thinking that goats were kept in pens or fields. My kids are growing up thinking that goats are kept tied by one leg, anwhere. There is no limit to where one can keep a goat. The middle of a busy town? No problem. Tied to the tree in your yard? Why not?
I grew up shopping with my mom at a supermarket, Blairs, riding in shopping carts down shiny smooth floors with deli’s, public restrooms, cash registers and stuff. My kids shop at the market which is held once a week in a soccer field. It is like a supermarket in that you can buy just about anything there, but yeah, the floor is far from being shiny and smooth, there are deli's, no restrooms (which honestly doesn’t seem to stop some people), and no cash registers.
I grew up not seeing naked people. Ever. My kids are growing up seeing naked people all the time. Like, naked children don’t even faze them and they don’t even bat an eye or make rude comments when observing someone breastfeeding. And trust me, they don’t use little blankets to cover themselves here! You see all. Consequently my kids don’t mind baring it all, themselves. Little Gracie never would have been caught in her unders in public let me tell yah!
I grew up not having the foggiest idea what a mobile phone was (they hadn’t really been invented yet – and neither was the laptop!). My kids are growing up with at least three toy mobile phones and their own toy computers.
I grew up not ever seeing real poverty up close. My kids are growing up seeing up close and in your face poverty all the time.
I grew up hardly ever going out to eat. My kids get to all the time!
I guess what gets to me the most is the sheer urbaneness of my children’s upbringing, which is sooo not me. They are used to the sheer mass of humanity that we pass every week in the market, when we drive to the store, go to Kampala, or walk down the road. They are CITY KIDS!!
BUT. If I must raise my children in an urban environment, at least I get to do it in Entebbe where we have neighborhood cows that we can go watch be milked and there are always lots of chickens and neighborhood goats scampering around. When we get back from our furlough next year we are going to get some chickens and goats of our own, so I might be able to appease myself a bit. Our land is further out of Entebbe too, so it won’t feel like we’re living right in the middle of town as much. It won’t be Montana but it will do good enough!
Ella's been picking out her own clothes lately. And tying her (filthy) hankie on her head backwards. And yes, she was at a restraunt in this picture, holding sticks. And what you can't see is that she was barefoot!
Um, have I mentioned before that Frankie really likes his cat? Well he does. A lot. Almost too much...
Thus far Rowdy has survived being dunked in the dog water, stuffed in a plastic container and being tied up and carried around in a plastic bag. I'm thinking Frankie means well, but he's just too young to know yet that he could actually kill his cat doing things like that! And let me tell you, it's hard supervising him all the time. And is impossible when I'm at work!We continue to talk about how kitties aren't like toys and that they can accidently be killed, like Bronco was. Billy didn't mean to kill Bronco, it was an accident because he was playing with him the wrong way! So we'll see if cats really do have nine lives and Rowdy survives his kittenhood!
We noticed Bill sleeping like this because he was snoring so loud! Probably not the best position for sleeping...
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