Waxing Introspective

Since Grandpa passed away, I have been spending WAY too much time thinking.
Like WAY too much time.
Thinking about things that I can’t control, things I can’t change, things I can change but have not yet had the opportunity to…

Of course, there’s that screaming noise in the back of my head which sounds a lot like a ticking… like a clock.. say, a biological clock.
Now now, I know I’m nowhere near That Age, however, we’ve both agreed that we don’t want to have to show in up wheelchairs to our kids high school graduations. (unless it’s from broken pelvises in which case, we’re awesome)
Related, I’ve been thinking about how I was raised, how Steve was raised, how Mom and Dad were raised, how Grandma and Grandpa were raised and how I watch other people raise their kids.

There is plenty of potential to screw up.
Big time.

Lately, I’ve been overthinking coddling.
Former co-worker used to spend a great deal of her day on the phone, trying to correct her adult son’s missteps.
Some lady at the store took things the other way and basically toted her screaming 3-year-old on her hip around the grocery, not paying any mind.
My mom sympathizes with my toils and troubles and always wishes there was something she could do.
Steve played hockey on a chipped knee bone because SMS said it built character.
Grandpa was very here’s-the-rules-and-that’s-that.
My dad was “Stephanie Ann, if you (insert behavior here) again, I will (insert form of punishment).” and I would and he would.
Charlotte picks up baby Teppo whenever he cries, while daddy Teppo subscribes to the “he’s fine, let him cry”.

Is The Eventual going to end up on a comfy sofa claiming that his/her mom coddled her and that’s why he/she is constantly stuck in horrible relationship?
Or will he/she be a cutter because dad was too hard on him/her?

Ugh.

Perhaps focusing on how Not-Mullet-Trainer worked me over will divert my attention… if you will excuse me, I can’t feel my butt.