I've been going through some old blogs from the My Space days, doing some research for a book I'm writing. (Yes, folks, I'm seeing if there are any insights myself back then can lend to myself now.)
I found my first actual blog about something (as opposed to the very first blog where I say, "I'm going to try blogging. We'll see how it goes"). Even back then, I'd already started "unschooling" my daughter.
From March 17, 2006:
Today was St. Patrick's Day. Luck of the Irish and all that. I didn't wear green. Neither did Cami. We spent our St. Paddy's Day researching opossums on the Internet. We saw pictures of them, some with their babies on their backs (that's a lot of babies to carry!!)--She's almost convinced me that the opossum is indeed a "cute" animal. Almost.
See, my daughter Cami has an extensive collection of stuffed animals. And she actually plays with most of them. Among her collection are two (yes, folks, I said "two") stuffed opossums. We bought them at Cracker Barrel, one in Florida last year, one in Tennessee a few weeks ago. As I write this blog entry, she is snuggling them as she tries to go to sleep. Opossums.
Opossums are the only marsupials native to North America. (Cami was fascinated to learn that the opossum and the kangaroo are cousins, just like her and Erik & Fidg.) The mommy opossum gives birth to babies that are the size of a navy bean. It's up to the baby opossum to crawl into the mother's pouch where it can find the mother's milk source. The babies stay in the pouch (called a "marsupium") for three months, then hang onto Mamma's back for another six weeks before they're ready to run around on their own.
The babies that don't make it into the pouch die. Shocking, huh? I wonder if momma opossums miss the babies that don't make it.
Opossums can hang by their tails for short amounts of time, but contrary to popular legend, they don't sleep that way. Their tails aren't strong enough to support their body weight for that long.
I saw an opossum once. We were living with my parents in Florida. Their house has a tall privacy fence enclosing their backyard. One night, I went out on the deck to take out the trash, and there it was, crawling along the top of the fence. It stopped and stared at me with its teeth bared and its eyes glittering in the light. It wasn't cute.
I'm sure there are spiritual lessons in all these facts we learned about opossums. God reveals Himself through His creation, right? I just have to think about it longer, maybe. Open my heart to the possibilities of opossums.
But I don't think I'll ever see them as cute.
Three years brings many changes to a life, doesn't it?
Cami's cousins in Tennessee are Erik and Falcon now. (Fidg is in heaven.)
The stuffed animals in Cami's care have proliferated to the point of too many toys, too little space.
She doesn't snuggle the opossums anymore. Just the giant lion named King.
I didn't discovered spiritual lessons in the facts about opossums.
And they still aren't "cute."
But I'm still blogging. And "unschooling." And loving my life.