Power and Flowers

Not exactly what I would have searched for so many years ago…but life has changed. Kids once shuffling underfoot are now out conquering other countries, college, and marriage. Life’s requirements have changed. I’m no longer looking for the next five hours of freedom.

I have it, minus the power. Power literally and figuratively gives PR the ability to operate, and parents the responsibilities of getting their own lives back in gear. After 6 days without power (and three months without adult children stopping by), I have a lot to do. Never thought that would happen. Power that comes from a strangled power grid is as fleeting, as the kisses I used to think my kids would always want to give.

What would I like? The fresh roses, the dinner I had last night, and bizarrely a little more time when my kids gave sticker-faced kisses.

It started with Colic….ends when?

Most people think that once you've gotten your darling bundle past the first two years it will be smooth sailing.  My oldest son was a great baby I just didn't know exactly what to do with him.  When I saw him across the table from me in the operating room I was honestly surprised that he was human.  I don't know what I was expecting, but a beautiful baby boy (once they got that yucky vernix off) was not it.  My oldest son was the first masterpiece I had produced.  Let's just say we learned  a lot from each other, and still are.  He is my trial and error child.

Seven long years after his birth, his sister came along.  The difference between having a boy and a girl was immediately felt.  At just over four months I started having contractions.  So I sat still pretty much for the rest of the pregnancy, scared that at any moment she might just pop out and yell "Surprise!"

I had the yelling part right.  When my daughter was born, all I saw was her cute cheeks and her little bit of hair.  It would be a joyful babyhood of big bows and painted toes.  Not quite.  I thought with my previous experience raising a little girl would be a breeze, especially with her brother in kindergarten a full 2 hours a day!  She wasn't more than 2 weeks old when the crying started, and coincidentally my husband's traveling resumed.  The crying started at first for two or three hours.  It segued into an all day long crying session with intermittent breaks.  I was alone with two kids, one who was introduced to the joys of video games, and the other one a crying machine.  She was beautifully dressed, even as she screamed. I was the mess.

The ideas on how to cure her came from everybody.  Random people at the store, friends without children saying it couldn't be that bad, and worst of all my husband who by the time he got home she had cried herself to sleep and she slept almost through the night.  My husband after hearing my crying jags, took (was forced) to take our month old daughter on an airplane to meet Grandma.

I remember watching them board the airplane.  I received scathing looks, while he got father of the year.  Once they were boarded, my son and I skipped out the airport and went to the zoo. I got a a phone call that they had landed safely in Florida and that our beautiful baby hadn't even cried for more than a minute. I knew what was coming.  It started out just a short call asking where I put her favorite toy.  The call ended with reassurances that between he and his mom our infant girl wouldn't have any problems that couldn't be fixed.  Four hours later I turned the ringer off on my phone and slept peacefully through the night.  She was bottle fed, Daddy was just as good as Mommy.

That four days changed my husband's attitude and the amount he traveled.  His travel increased.

 So fast forward 12 years and I figure I've paid my dues.  Obviously, this time I was the one who needed to learn the lesson.  She is a beautiful intelligent daughter who loves her father dearly and thinks everything I  say is wrong.  I talk to friends with daughters this age and we all agree on one thing, when   tweens are happy the whole family rejoices!  Let me stop here and say, on bad days only Daddy has the correct answers, and the reassuring hugs.

The dream job?

No, I never have gotten a bonus check, or trophy, or even gadget to toss in the trash celebrating the 19 years I have spent raising my children.  There have been many times I worked at other things, but my main motivation was to be home with my children.  Or at least it used to be…

I picked my eleven year old son from his friend's house and was listening to all the great things his  friend's mom had done.

 " She made sure we all had plenty of chicken nuggets to eat and we got the flavored water," my son said. "She did it all while working two jobs.  Mom if you worked the two jobs would we get a bigger television?"

I felt that old urge to prove to my son what I have done with him all these years, that my life had meaning (most days).  I finally gave in to my ego,which has taken a beating since his sister has turned 12.

"You know,"was all I  got to say before his eyes rolled,"a lot of parents would like to stay at home."

My son sat in the back with no gadget to distract him on this 1.5 mile drive.

"Mom, I'm sorry you have to stay home," he said as we pulled into the driveway

Maybe someday he will understand, but I doubt it!