"I remember long ago -
Ooh when the sun was shining,
Yes, and the stars were bright
All through the night. . .
And the sound of your laughter
As I held you tight
So long ago -

I wont be coming home tonight.
My generation will put it right.
We're not just making promises
That we know, well never keep.

Too many men,
There's too many people
Making too many problems -
And not much love to go 'round.
Can't you see
This is a Land of Confusion?

Now, this is the world we live in -
And these are the hands were given.
Use them and lets start trying
To make it a place worth fighting for!

This is the world we live in -
And these are the names were given.
Stand up and let's start showing
Just where our lives are going to." - Genesis (and the "Disturbed" cover is pretty good, too. . .)

"Having kids is like being pecked to death by a chicken." - Anonymous

Even a woman who considers herself to be a "great" mother must have that feeling some days.

Like the cornfeed scattered outside of a coop on a farm smack dab in the most prime acerage to be found in the Land of Confusion.

I am beginning to recognize a trend among my friends with kids in the 18-25 bracket. The feathers are flying in our young-adult children peckfest and we're just running around saying the first thing that comes to mind, "Think about our family name!!!" or "Get your act together!" or "You are no longer welcome in MY house!" (My parent-tapes let me down sometimes.)

Well, there you go. . . "Young-adult children." Now there's an oxymoron if I ever heard one, with the weight on the "moron" part! (I'm sorry, that was not very mature of me.)

I do have a few friends who's kids are "off" at college, so they exist in an "If I can't see it, it ain't happening" sort of fugue. But lately, I do not feel quite so "alone" here on the farm. My child keeps threatening to "go off," then he'll get a little off, then a little not-so-off, then off. . .so I haven't had time to really be out standing in my field just yet.

I asked my husband, "Is it all our fault?"

"Of course not. . .it's all YOUR fault." Sorry, ladies, he's ALL mine. . ."I told you not to let them watch 'The Breakfast Club.'"

I can remember a time when my misfortunes were the fault of my parents, my grandparents, a boyfriend, a friend. . .certainly IIIIII should have bourne no responsibility for the circumstances of my life when I was nineteen. I can also remember the muddled process of my sense of entitlement vs. my need for personal independence. Then, BOOM!, I gave birth to one of my own and HAD to grow up. Perhaps "confusing" is too mild a word. . .

But I survived the early years of my adulthood. . .and they will too.

Back then, we thought we were the smartest people alive - whereas, now, we KNOW we are the smartest people alive. And if we're really that smart, we know that this, too, shall pass.

(My mom would say right here that, if I think I am smart now, wait until I get to be her age!)

Have fun!

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