Warning:

Today's post(s) may contain graphic (some might say "intimate") descriptions of events (and anatomy), and may not be suitable for all readers. Some things, once known, cannot be un-known ;P

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Tuesday 23 April 2013

Okay, Fine, I'm Screening Your Calls

Recently, I've been taking a lot of flack from a few people who are frustrated that I rarely answer their phone calls.  It's not that I consciously choose not to answer them, and it's not exactly "screening"...

The home phone has become a glorified answering machine.  Neither my husband nor I ever give that number out as one by which to reach us.  The home number is saved solely for registering for services like hydro and water and cable and our home security system.  We sometimes use it to make long distance calls.  But otherwise, only telemarketers call us on it (and Tara and our moms, when sometimes stalking us, because we didn't answer our cell phones).  Furthermore, it has a "night mode" setting on it, which we have set to NOT RING between 7pm and 7am, because we sure as hell don't want to talk to telemarketers then, and it reduces the risk of me killing someone because their call work up the kids.  See?  SAFETY FIRST! ;)  This line does have call display, which I sometimes check for missed calls, and voicemail - but the voicemail recording specifically tells callers that they will receive a faster response by contacting us at our cell numbers (not given - those who need them, have them).

If you call us on our cell phones, we will try to answer. BUT, if we are trying to sleep, our phones will be set to silent, and we will not hear your call.  If we are awake, our phones are set to vibrate.  Cell phone vibrations are LOUD - loud enough, anyway.  I know I'm not alone in preferring this setting, because I hear an actual ringtone so infrequently these days, that I actually find them jarring and alarming!  I teach teenagers, who are not allowed to use their phones in class, so they all become accustomed to operating in stealth mode at a young age, and I really believe this will be the way of the world in years to come.  I digress...  If the environment we are in is too loud for us to hear our phones vibrating, it is also too loud for us to have a phone conversation with you - so no opportunity lost!

Seriously: how much do you like repeating yourself, because I didn't hear you the first (or second or third) time, because there's a child screaming, or a truck crashing (toy, I mean), or a baby crying, or Handy Manny carrying on in Spanish on the TV?  Annoying, right?  And how 'bout when I have to interrupt our conversation because Avery wants to know where a snake's poop comes out, or I have to save one of my children from certain death?  D  I can't focus solely on what you're saying, I'm not being a very good conversationalist - I KNOW this - because I've felt super annoyed when it's happened to me, the other way around!


So, yes: sometimes when I hear my phone vibrating, I look at the screen to see who is calling, and if it is not the police or Children's Aid, I make the conscious decision to not answer your call.  This is to save YOU the aggravation of the annoying phone conversation I know would ensue, and  NOT because I don't want to talk to you. I'll try to remember to call you back the next time I get a conducive minute.  I will often send you a text instead - not to be impersonal or evasive, but because I can read and type while children are hollering, and I can read and respond to electronic messages in bits and pieces - I just can't TALK or HEAR.

Really, the best time to actually have a phone conversation with me is when I'm driving - withOUT kids in the car!  A rare occurrence.  But it does happen - Monday to Friday from 3-3:30pm, when I'm driving home from work!  The kids are in bed by 9 at the latest (well, HOPEfully :s), but to be honest?   By that time, I'm so worn out from talking, talking, talking...I really just don't want to talk!  I want to have a half hour to be with my husband (or not!), just decompressing, before I got to bed (yes, I DO go to bed at 9:30 - sometimes even on weekends - because, you know what? Demands on my time on the weekend don't really change much from the work week!).

I'm sorry.  That's just the way it is.


I'm ending with links to two related articles, not authored by me - just in case you don't believe what I'm telling you here ;)  Pick your poison:

Read this for hilarity: This is what a Stay-at-Home Mom Does All Day

Read this for sincerity: Tell Me About It

Now, tell ME about it! :)  What did you think of this post?  Leave a comment here - or call me between 3 and 3:30pm to discuss by phone :P

Baby 2's First Steps and "The Last Time"

Baby 2 took his first two independent steps on Sunday, April 21st, 2013.  He was 2 1/2 weeks short of his first birthday, my wonder child :)  Of course, we didn't catch it on video - and when we tried to recreate the scenario with the camera ready, he wasn't having it.  He was gracious enough to do this in the middle of the living room, though, during one of my Sunday Family Dinners, so there were lots of witnesses!  And I take that as his silent support of my SFD initiative, also ;)

Getting excited about his "firsts" reminded me of an article I read a couple months ago, that really hit home for me.  I didn't write it.  A friend shared a link to it on her facebook wall (thank you, Tara!), and I thought I'd share the text of it with you, here.

Devon Corneal's
"The Last Time"

Tonight, Little Dude asked for a snuggle before bed. It was well past his bedtime and I was tired, cranky and had a stack of laundry to fold, a memo to write and a blog post to finish. I told him I'd snuggle for two minutes.

He crawled under his blanket, squirmed until he was comfortable and pushed me to the edge of the mattress. He offered me his favorite blankie to keep me warm. I put my arm around him and he was sound asleep before I had finished cataloguing the list of things I had to do before I could crawl into my own bed. I considered making a stealthy escape but stopped when he threw his arm around my neck while mumbling unintelligibly. A sleeping 4-year old's arm has as much strength as a soggy piece of toast, but I didn't move. Despite my earlier desire to leave, I stayed and pulled him toward me.

I had one of those rare blissful parenting moments when everything else fades away and you appreciate the simple physical presence of your child. I marveled at the amount of heat a small boy produces when he sleeps and the ease with which he leaves the world behind. I smelled his hair. The laundry could wait.

It hit me in the darkness of his cluttered room that these days are numbered. Some night in the future, Little Dude will ask me to snuggle with him before he falls asleep, and I will have no idea that it will be the last time. I won't know to pay attention or to try to commit every minute to memory. Days or weeks or months later, I will try to recall when that last snuggle happened. I won't be able to. I know I will ache to slide next to him on his narrow bed, listen to him breathe and wait for the moment when he surrenders to his dreams. All of the irritations, the inconveniences and the wishing for time alone will seem insignificant in comparison to the warmth and peace of his nighttime routine. I will regret the times I hurried through bedtime and left his room even though he asked me to stay "Just one more minute, Mommy."

It will be too late.

I just now understand that in anticipating my son's "firsts," I've forgotten to appreciate what he's left behind. The firsts are monumental, celebrated and captured on film. I reveled in Little Dude's first steps, jotted down his first words and am prepared to save lost teeth. There isn't a first I haven't recorded in some way. I've paid less attention to his "lasts." I've ignored the finality that comes with moving from one stage to another.

I don't remember the last day that Little Dude's eyes were blue before they turned green. I can't recall the last time his hair was baby soft and curly, or the last time he crawled or took a real nap. I can't pinpoint the last time we shared the peaceful quiet of a 3 a.m. feeding, or he squealed with joy to be riding his wooden rocking horse. There will be a hundred last times to come. And I won't know they've passed until there is no hope of recapturing them. I know this because I don't remember the last day he used a pacifier or waited for us to get him from his bed rather than clomping into our bedroom at some ungodly pre-dawn hour exuberant and ready to face the day as we struggle to open our eyes. I've forgotten when he stopped liking sweet potatoes or saying "Pick mine up!"

Not that there aren't stages I'm happy are gone. I don't miss teething, two-hour feedings, biting or needing to be carried everywhere. I'm neither Pollyanna nor a masochist. Babies are darling; I'm also glad I don't have one anymore. Raising children isn't all warm snuggles and charming memories. Parenting can be a long, hard slog.

But for today I'm focusing on the last times still to come, even though I won't know that they're the last chapters until long after they've gone. The last snuggle. The last time Little Dude asks me to bring him chocolate milk. The last time we play fire trucks. The last time he falls down and comes crying to me with his entire body shaking, tears streaming down his face, believing with childish certainty that a kiss from me will make his skinned knee better. The last time he asks to marry me. The last time he believes in my omniscience. The last time we color together at the kitchen table. I'm not naïve enough to believe that this moment of reflection will stop me from becoming irritated, impatient, frustrated, bored or upset tomorrow when my son whines, spills spaghetti sauce on the rug or throws a fit because I won't let him stay up late. Maybe, though, I'll temper my response if I can remember how fleeting this all is. That for every moment I've prayed would end, there is something I miss.

 Like Corneal, I'm not naive either - I still get angry, frustrated, impatient...but this realization has caused me to spend a little more time, snuggling in bed with my oldest; it has made me a little bit wistful when I see my youngest doing things that my oldest has since stopped doing. If it was even possible, it has maybe made me a little bit more aware of HOW MUCH I love them, and how all the crap parts of parenthood, while far outnumbering the good, can never outweigh them :)

Friday 12 April 2013

Tradition-Preservation Society of One

People change, lives change, and traditions get forgotten.  The last part makes me inherently sad :(

"A tradition is a belief or behavior passed down within a group or society with symbolic meaning or special significance with origins in the past...Traditions can persist and evolve for thousands of years—the word "tradition" itself derives from the Latin tradere or traderer literally meaning to transmit, to hand over, to give for safekeeping...A number of factors can exacerbate the loss of tradition...In response to this, tradition-preservation attempts have now been started in many countries around the world...Tradition is usually contrasted with the goal of modernity" (wikipedia).

Consider me, then, a Tradition-Preservation Society of one.

Here is a bit of background: My mother once said she had two only-children.  I have a brother - technically a half-brother, from my dad's previous marriage - but I can picture my dad rolling over in his grave right now, because in life, he'd become furious if I ever referred to him as my half brother.  My brother lived with my dad (his biological father, as well as mine) and mom (his stepmother), in the same house I was raised in, with the same rules, etcetera - but because of the 12-year age difference between us, we didn't really have a typical sibling relationship, and it would be a bit deceiving to say we were raised "together".  My cousins on my dad's side of the family were the same age as my brother, so considerably older than me, as well.  My cousins on my mom's side of the family were closer in age to me, but were also significantly closer to their cousins on the other side of their family, so placed higher priority on functions and occasions celebrated with them, than with my family.  All of this is natural, to be expected, and understandable - but the cumulative effect is that I didn't form close relationships with any of my extended family members.

The age difference that plagued my childhood and disabled close familial relationships, now, threatens to have the same effect on my own children - and I desperately want to prevent that.  My kids don't have any relatives close in age to them. Because of my own situation growing up, I know that this arrangement doesn't naturally lead to forming close relationships - they have to be worked at. I want my children to have a different experience; I want them to have many close relationships among members of their extended family, and I know that a real effort is going to have to be made to facilitate that.

Avery and Ashton love spending time with people they feel comfortable with - but that feeling of ease only comes with time - time spent TOGETHER with other family members. I know it isn't evident in Ashton yet at less than a year old, but it is in Avery, and Ashton won't be far behind. They don't care about who bought them the coolest present or brought them the best treat that one time they came by last month; they care about who got down on the floor and played cars with them, or took them to the park, or had a tickle fight with them, and who they see on a regular basis.

I thought that a good way to facilitate opportunities for our extended family members to do these things with the kids would be to bring back the Sunday Family Dinner.  The bonus, for attendees (in addition to the lifelong relationship with and adoration of our children ;)) would be a delicious (most of the time), home-cooked (most of the time) meal! :) It's not all about the kids, of course - Justin and I want to see our extended family, too!  They're our family, we love them, and we want to see them - ALL of them! :)

But sadly...there will not be a Family Dinner this Sunday. Well, there will be - but only our immediate family will be there, because no one RSVPed "yes" this week. In fact, hardly anyone bothered to RSVP at all. Although we've had several successful dinners, with some family members in attendance, My Sunday Family Dinner initiative, on the whole, has been rather poorly received and attended :( Not only that, but attendance at Holiday Family Dinners has been dwindling, as well :( :(

This is very disappointing and discouraging, because spending time with our extended family is important to us. When people don't even bother to acknowledge the invitation, or don't prioritize getting together with us, or break commitments they have made to us, it is hurtful. I haven't known what to do about it. It makes me sad, then it makes me mad, then it makes me perplexed. Constant rejection is hard to endure. My instinct is to just stop trying - but my dad wouldn't have liked that - and then no one, including my children, benefits at all :( I don't think I could stop trying in good conscience, unless I have given it everything I've got. Maybe if everyone understood where I'm coming from, why traditions and family functions are so important to me, and just how important all of them are to my little immediate family (even if they boys don't realize it yet)...it would make a difference.

I know it's not always convenient - it's a long drive, it interferes with work, there's something more exciting to do, it's more effort than simply staying at home - and I realize that my immediate family is quite inflexible about the times at which we can be available and places we can meet at, due to the kids' schedules (and yes, to me being a Sleep Nazi). But this stability and regularity is only for the first few years, and I feel it is more reasonable to ask adults to be flexible and make small sacrifices, than children and infants. Sharing time together and creating lasting family traditions is important! And, in my opinion anyway, worth the inconvenience.

We want to see all of our extended family members at birthdays, Thanksgiving, Christmas, and Easter, for sure! And, in the interest of trying to make things as feasible as possible for everyone, we have chosen unpopular days on which to celebrate: Thanksgiving and Easter are always celebrated in our home on the Saturdays of the holiday weekends, and Christmas dinner is always held on Christmas Eve day. But, really, a few times a year is not enough to build lasting bonds with children. They need to see their family more than that.

I don't know what other families do as far as traditions go, or when they might have family gatherings for no reason at all. But whatever the arrangement, if you have mini humans in your life in one capacity or another, I hope you'll think about my little diatribe here, think about what's important in your life, too...consider committing to the odd Family Dinner and other occasions :)