WHAT HAS HAPPENED TO THIS
FAMILY???
Last evening I spent quite a
few minutes talking to a friend whom I have not seen in ages,
commiserating about our daughters. I explained that they can definitely
be cold and prickly, especially with their mothers and that I have
been regarded in the same manner as one would regard a dirty Kleenex
for about six years and I have just gotten used to it and have learned to take it in
stride. I take pride in the fact that when my daughter marches up the stairs and into her room to
complain to her friend about how flaky I am, I say “I'm so glad I
am able to give her the freedom and privacy to do so.”
Then, TODAY, as I was
already basking in an increasingly rare moment when not one, but two
sons were in our bed - the same
bed, at the same time
-and they might have even been touching, albeit
accidentally and not in a way that leaves bruises, my daughter
sauntered into the room and draped herself on the bed. With US! Her
PARENTS - and her BROTHERS! And after said brothers had hopped
away and gotten on with the business of whatever brand of mischief
was on the menu for the day, she stayed. For half an hour
and talked to us. And listened.
To her PARENTS of
all people. In a normal and pleasant tone of voice no less. It
was wonderful. She didn't even yell at me when I suggested that
when she goes away to college she might want to consider toning down
her man-hating verbalizations, since not all men
are total bleeping lunatics (to put it lightly), her father being a
case in point (of a non-lunatic in case that was unclear).
Anyway,
I arrived home from shopping to discover that my daughter had asked
me to friend her on facebook. In case you didn't get that, the word
is FRIEND. F-R-I-E-N-D. As in someone you do not hate. Or at
least someone you acknowledge in a friendly manner occasionally at
minimum. The problem is, even though as a parent I have always
read and heard that we are supposed to friend our kids so we can lurk
in the shadows and lecture them about their posts, I have always
maintained that the very last people on earth I want trolling my facebook are my kids. My facebook is one long, rambling, TMI
session and the TMI is mostly about my kids so I have historically
kept them and anyone who might be associated with them decidedly on
my stranger list at the very least. I hated to disappoint her, but I
informed her at dinner that I would have to think before I could
consider friending her. She informed me that it was too late and
that I already had. Accidentally. Crap. Now I'll have to
un-friend her in order to make this post. And that might arouse some
suspicion, but there is no avoiding it. This is a little too much
topsy-turvy for someone my age in the space of a day. (Update: I
took a break from writing and discovered that she has already begun
to comment on my posts. I'll have to give her some time to troll and
when the novelty wears off I'll un friend her, put up this post and
then friend her again in a couple of days after the post is buried
under a few days of my usual drivel. I'll say it was an accident.
She'll believe me because she “knows” that I'm totally
incompetent.
As
a last resort, I could start posting things like “I pooped today”
(which is about the only thing I haven't posted yet) and that'll get
me unfriended in a heartbeat.
And
it doesn't stop there...The other kids are acting weird also. When I sat down to write this, I had to
tune out the third instrument I have heard being practiced today.
The third. That
means that not one, not two, but all three kids have practiced their
instruments today. The instruments that they never play.
Ever. At least in earshot of their mother. And Johnny. The one
whom his older sister describes as feral, whom I have described as
the most demanding and least appreciative of my three children (he
has lots of wonderful qualities too), who asks for Nike merchandise
repeatedly despite how his siblings lunge at him like junk yard dogs
across the dinner table, veritably spitting about sweatshops and
hyper-capitalism, said “thank you” after I bought him some
clothes today. It had become imperative that I buy him some pants
that reached below his calves and shoes that were not full of holes. When I took in his appearance, I wished I had thought to stop by Church Street on the way to the store and parked him on a corner with a tin cup with which to collect some alms. I
could have paid cash and avoided using the credit card for the new
clothes. Anyway, I digress. On the way home, Johnny said: “thank
you, Mom, for buying me some new clothes...and I think I'll try to
help around the house more often.” Of course I did not let on that
I'm no dummy and that someone can't help around the house if they are
never around the house. Johnny sometimes sleeps in his bed at night
and spends the rest of the time at the neighbors on either side of
us; an arrangement which eliminates almost all possible opportunities to help at home. However, I appreciate the offer. The thought does count. Quite a lot, actually.
...And...the
topper is... that when I got home with the groceries both boys put all
the food away after only one
martyrish request.
And
the sad part is... I had an unusually large number of social
obligations this week which caused me to have to be out drinking with my
friends last night and the night before. Until 12:30. Um, and
Wednesday til 10. As I said, an unusually obligation-heavy week. I
can either hit myself over the head in self punishment or lecture
myself with guilty phrases, or say “hey, it works for me!” But
first I have to spend some time wrapping my head around all this change.
Johnny
just whined “ETHAN HIT MEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!” Whew. Back to
normal.
Nope.
Ten minutes have passed and Johnny is out of the shower and asking
me to clean his ears and kiss him goodnight and it is only 8:23. Now
THAT'S weird.
