Boys Will Be Boys
Nana camp is an invitation only event. My mother-in-law takes all of her grandchildren for a week of crafts, activities and general grandparent indulgence. This year while Max and Lucy traveled to Nana camp Harper and I took our first plane ride up to Michigan to visit my parents. My parents have yet to see Harper and so we took this opportunity to introduce them to their seventh grandchild. This left David home by himself. FOR A WHOLE WEEK.
During his unexpected bachelor time he decided to do some home improvement projects. While I was envisioning the hanging of shelves or the painting of walls, he envisioned maybe hanging a picture and going fishing. Now, he did hang the pictures in the kitchen and I am incredibly grateful for that. However, this is what I found sitting on my kitchen counter when I returned:
This is a phenomenon. Most women I talk to speak of the same occurrence in their household. A home improvement is FINALLY completed only to be left with a table/counter full of tools. I’ve actually waited to see how long it would take David to put the tools away and the longest I’ve been able to hold out was four months. His argument? He is planning on still using those tools to do another project. Where? When? What? Nobody knows, but someday he will need those tools again and it would be so much more convenient to use them if they just sat on the kitchen counter until then.
Even though Max was the only boy at Nana camp with a plethora of female cousins he managed to have a great time swimming, fishing and playing in the air conditioning (he wasn’t so keen on playing outside and being hot). He also left me a little surprise on the kitchen counter:
Max gleefully explained to me that he made a “brown snowman”. So very thoughtful of him to bring me back such a sweet homemade gift from camp.
Ahhh boys, you gotta love ‘em.
The D-Word
I love watching the show “Intervention”. I was a “good” kid growing up and was never once tempted to try drugs or abuse alcohol. David says that if I were a super hero my super power would be an immunity to peer pressure. Indeed I have a sort of impervious attitude against what other people think of me. You combine that quality with the fact that I hate feeling “out of control” and you can understand why drugs and alcohol never held an allure for me. That makes “Intervention” fascinating to me. Why? Why do people do this to themselves? Why do they consciously choose to escape their own reality? But since becoming a mother the real underlying reason I watch is to answer the question, “could that be my kid?” I have this unquenchable desire to understand why people start drugs. What drives them to that choice? What could their parents or family done differently? How can I create an environment that shields my children from that same life choice?
Within the last month David and I have received the news that four of our friends are starting or finishing divorce proceedings. These are friends for whom we stood at their weddings. We bought presents, attended parties, wished them well and shared in their joy of marital happiness. We all started at the same gate with presents and dresses and ceremonies of one kind or another but we won’t all finish. The same fear and curiosity that drives me to watch “Intervention” makes me obsess over my friends’ divorces. What went wrong? How did two seemingly happy people grow apart? How did they end up hating each other? What happened? But the most important question is “am I next”?
It’s weird how we all get married, have kids, start careers and the tracks of our lives seem to run smoothly and parallel. Oh, we get busy and perhaps we don’t spend as much time together but we assume that our life experiences remain similar. Until one day you find out your friend’s life has taken a major detour and you never saw it coming. I’m not angry at my friends or even disappointed. I am sad. I am sad for them and fearful for myself.
Inevitably while watching “Intervention” it will come out that during this person’s past something traumatic happened. They were abused, molested, neglected, etc, etc. Some life-altering event happened that started this person’s downward spiral into drugs and alcohol. It is always easy to identify and point to the source of this person’s addiction and bad choices. But with divorce, there is no clear reason. Even an affair is not the reason for the divorce the problem started long before the affair. How do any of us know if we are doing the right thing? How can I avoid this happening in my own marriage? Overall I think David and I have a good marriage. We talk, we hang out, we care, we’re respectful, but didn’t everybody start off like that? When does talking and loving dissolve into resentment and distaste?
I wish I could fast forward to the part of the show where they tell me if the person stayed sober or fell off the wagon. I’m always hoping for a happy ending and perhaps the idea of divorce really messes with my desire for life to have neatly squared off corners.
Hello? Hello? Are You Listening?
When you’re a mother your telephone conversations sound something like this:
Mother #1: hello?
Mother #2: hi – I just wanted to call and talk to you about the current health care debate
Mother #1: Oh, I know did you watch CNBC last night?
Mother #2: I did, and I really thought, Tommy! Tommy! I told you to not hit your sister. SARAH! stop hitting your brother! Who wants to lose a privilege? Sorry about that – let me see, yes, I liked what they were saying about universal coverage but was concerned about the tax implications and you?
Mother #1: Well, I didn’t see the piece on CNBC but NPR was interviewing the CEO of a pharmaceutical company and, BILLY! BILLY! Put that knife down. Yes, Emma I will wipe your bottom. Sorry, okay, well NPR was discussing how the reform might impact malpractice insurance and the availability of doctors.
Do you see how that works? The side conversations with children and punishments dolled out are respectively ignored and the conversation proceeds seamlessly. Neither party offended at the break in conversation nor distracted by the requests of the children in the background. And yet, if this same conversation were held between a mother and a man — any man — it would sound like this:
Mother #1: Hello?
Man: Hi, I was wondering what was for dinner tonight
Mother #1: Oh, well I was thinking TOMMY, TOMMY NO YOU CANNOT EAT CANDY BEFORE DINNER!
Man: I’ll let you go, you sound busy.
Busy? Of course I’m busy. I’m always busy. I’m a part-time working mother of two. The only time I’m not doing three tasks at the same time is when I’m asleep. If you insist on my complete undivided attention on the phone then please plan on calling when my children are 18 years old. I’m not sure why women can follow this phone conversation phenomenon and why men seem to instantly short circuit like a Microsoft hard drive that is trying to run too many apps, but they do and it is frustrating.
As a mother of multiple children (and yes, I’m afraid you need to have more than one to make this happen) my multi-tasking abilities have reached that of Ninja-level. All those teenagers who think they are special because they can drive and text – Pshaw! That is nothing. I can cook dinner, assist with spelling homework, pack lunches for tomorrow AND text message all at the same time. I can wash hair in the bathtub, wipe somebody’s bottom, AND conduct a phone job interview all seamlessly.
What is it about women that makes us able to juggle so many tasks with little problem? Is it biological or did we develop this skill out of necessity? Would a man also be able to multi-task with such ease if he was a single dad? I have no idea but in the meantime I think it might be a good idea for me to start utilizing my “mute” button on my telephone.
