Sirens
To say my kids are sheltered is an understatement.
The town we are from is as Norman Rockwell as it can get. Not just in its picturesque setting, but the whole attitude and lifestyle. There is almost no crime, and on the rare occasion that you have to call the police, they are there in 20 seconds, because, heck, they have nothing better to do. Every now and then, they exercise the sirens on their police cars by leading a parade, and the town gathers at the Main Street upon hearing them.
The big city scares my children. Literally. They are on edge when we venture into heavy traffic. Going to the movie the other night, and taking Quinn to the pediatrician had us in ‘the Big City” and they were very happy to come home to the tranquility of the trailer.
This morning, as I sat outside drinking my morning java, and catching up on my e-mails, we heard some sirens in the distance, heading toward some unknown emergency. As they got closer, and louder, my daughter turned to me and said “Hey! It’s a parade!”
After all, where we are from, a police siren signals the start of a parade.
How do I validate moving my children from this serenity. How do I take them from Mayberry, and place them into a world full of drugs, gangs, hate and violence.
I know that it is real life. I know that the real world is not a constant parade down Main Street. I know that one day they will be thrust upon it and will have to make their own choices and overcome their fears of the outside world.
This is weighing heavily on us in our decision about moving, and that is why I have left you all hanging, awaiting our decision. The fact is, we have not made a decision yet. We are really taking things slow, living here and getting a feel for the area. There will be no rush, and it may not be until August before we decide. We are talking to our friends, our families, and are allowing for input from others, but ultimately we will have to do what is best for our family as a whole. Not just what is best for the kids, but what is best for Bill and I as well……which might rub some the wrong way.
While talking with Bill this morning, I said something that surprised even me. I told him that the thought of going home, and going through day after day of having nothing to do, no ocean in sight……just the image of that Groundhog day feeling……has me wanting to walk up to a wall and bang my head repeatedly against it. That has to be important, right?
So, we sit. And we toss things back and forth like we are in some perpetuall tennis match.
And my daughter rides her tricycle around the campsite, with the bay as her backdrop.
And my boys play together like the best of friends.
And Cory quit chewing on his cuticles…….for years they have always look raw and frayed, but yesterday Bill said “Look….he stopped” and I saw that the nervous habit was gone, and the fingers I remember him having as a baby were back. Hoisting sails, scrubbing hulls, fishing, and riding his bike in a Flipperesque setting leave little time for cuticle picking.
And we are together and happy.
And in the end, that is really all that matters.
Mr. BBM and I have been contemplating a move to the beach ourselves. It’s a bit of the opposite though, because we’d be leaving a crime ridden area for a peaceful one.
So glad you are taking it slow and really soaking in all the information you can to make the best decision possible. I know what you mean about protecting your children from the BIG world! We live in a relatively small town, but I get a little more nervous as it grows and grows. I want to protect them for as long as I can. So, don’t mind us sitting on pins and needles – you just enjoy your morning java, bay scenes, sunsets, and tennis matches and just get back to us when you can
Take all the time you need. Sometimes if you wait long enough the answer seems obvious all of a sudden.
I giggled at the siren and parade thing. My kids think the same thing.
It was really awkward one time that we had two foster children who knew what police sirens really meant. They cried and cried as the police cars went by. They were too little to explain that noone was coming to take them away. So sad.
Don’t ever question yourself as far as the sheltering goes. You are giving them a childhood. A real, honest to God childhood! Awesome! We’ve moved so much… we’ve lived in the big cities, medium cities and little cities. If you read a couple of my posts yesterday you know that now that we live in Mayberry we have town cops with nothing better to do than lead the parade with a siren once a year. Oh, wait a minute – I take that back. They don’t lead the parade because everyone here HATES THEM and they are aren’t invited. LOL.
Barney Fife picked up my son for walking down the street. I was stopped because my truck windows were 2% too dark (17% is ok but 19% tint calls for the law to intervene! The town was in hysterics over someone with a red car that waited in the driveway of a home every morning around the same time the bus was picking up the neighborhood children… and emails were sent back and forth with warnings before someone ‘checked out the situation’ and found it was someone picking up the homeowner to carpool to work!
Still? The kids love it here. They are somewhat shelters, but the ‘big city’ is 10 minutes away and now that they are 16, 14 and 11 they venture in often. My 16 year has no qualms about driving the city (even downtown) and now my 14 year old is making the transition as well.
Sheltered when they are young is the nirvana most people only HOPE to find. You’ve found it.
I have complete and utter confidence that you guys will do the best by yourselves and the kids. And I agree wholeheartedly with Meritt.
And as long as they’re reading, they’ll figure out what the world is all about, at age-appropriate times. They’ll figure things out, little by little, and more maturity at figuring out time can only be a good thing.
I’m SO JEALOUS about the boat!
Can you find Flor de Cana rum up there? I might just make a quick trip to Nicaragua for you and get some. Maybe Belize will have it to. They’re only 4 hours away by car…