At some point during the last eight years, I absorbed a quote about parenthood and war being similar in that both contain large stretches of nothing much punctuated by moments of abject terror. I'd love to tell you who said this but my memory is so shot after two kids that I can barely remember what they have said mere seconds after they have said it. Sadly, my usual memory prompt _ a.k.a. the Internet _ is no help.
As I write this (and this could all have changed by the time it sees print), we're in one of those long stretches of nothing much. My summertime morning routine consists of nothing more exciting than walking the Diva to various lessons in Wilber Park. I spend the time catching up on all of the non-work books that I've wanted to read. In the afternoons, we amuse ourselves in typically summery ways, in water or under fans or in movie theaters.
It is delightful to have this down time. The down time makes for unexciting columns, however.
On more than one occasion, I've found myself staring at the kids trying to will them to do something interesting enough to carry a column. This is stupid on a number of levels:
First, the kids should be more than little material generators for their writer mom (although I do think that letting me write about them should be a reasonable trade for free room and board).
Second, "interesting" in our house frequently translates to "painful" or "messy" or "disturbing." Wishing for a house covered in cat fur, floam and tears is a truly bad idea. The quiet will break itself soon enough, with or without my urging.
Third, and, perhaps, most importantly, I wouldn't be able to do justice to something interesting because I can't get much kid-free time in which to write. While there may be writers who are able to write scintillating copy while being asked every 10 seconds if we can go to the pool now, I am not one of them.
Back when my oldest was still in utero, it was frighteningly common for folks to point out that writing was the perfect job to have when you have children since you'll be at home anyway. I just smirk when I think about how I used to believe that.
If you've lived with kids under the age of 10, you know that it is well-nigh impossible to do anything that requires focus if they are in the house and awake. Even just making a phone call is a challenge. For the hours preceding picking up the phone, no one pays any attention to you. Start to talk to someone and, suddenly, it's like you're giving away ice cream cones and free puppies. Hang up and you're invisible again.
Even baking cookies is a challenge right now. The Boy is tall enough to see onto the kitchen counters. He reminds me of a golden retriever I once knew, who would use his snout like a periscope to seek out treats to sneak off of the counters when their rightful owners were distracted.
The Boy likes to hang out at my elbow when I'm cooking. He doesn't want to help, no matter how hard I've tried to draw him in. He just wants to distract me, usually with endless strings of questions, from what I'm doing long enough to steal dough or lumps of brown sugar. It's even better when I trip over him. While I'm down, he can snatch handfuls of sweets.
One of his newest tricks is to treat the ice and water dispenser on the front of the refrigerator as his own personal fountain. The Boy is now the right height to stand in front of it and place his head in just the right spot so that the water hits his mouth when he pushes the lever where the glass should go.
What amazes me is how infrequently he misses.
What infuriates me is how much water winds up on the floor when he does.
I know this period of nothing much will end, if not during the summer, but certainly once school starts back up in the fall.
Then I will do nothing but complain about the non-stop running around and the irritating minor grievances.
If nothing else, they'll make for good column fodder.
Adrienne Martini is a freelance writer, instructor at the State University College at Oneonta, mom to Maddy and Cory, wife to Scott, and author of "Sweater Quest," which was published in March. Her columns can be found at www.thedailystar.com/
parentingimperfect.
Parenting Imperfect
Parenting Imperfect: Summer down time a welcome retreat, but columns suffer
- Parenting Imperfect
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Diva finally got what she wanted for half her life
I am weak.
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A parenting phobia that will leave you scratching your head
One of my two worst parent phobias came to pass last month. Even simply typing its name makes my head all swimmy. The Diva, as happens to kids her age, succumbed to lice, passed along by one of her fellow fourth-graders.
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Oh, how the worries change as the children grow
Most days, we are all just trying to do our best under really challenging circumstances.
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Newborn phase would be much better if there were deadlines
Friends of mine just had their first baby.
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I just don't know if I can turn over control of the washer quite yet
I'm starting to think that the Diva should be taking care of her own laundry. My reasons are many.
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Bathing children shouldn't have to be this hard
I just hurt my throat while yelling at my children.
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The Christmas crunch is getting to be way too much
There are two reasons that I would like to be Canadian.
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The Kingdom of the Mouse offers lessons and true magic
Some opportunities simply fall into your lap.
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And the band played on ... right into the next generation
In what may later turn out to have been a fit of self-preservation, my brain repeatedly decided to forget that band starts in fourth grade.
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Being the Stuff Master to the Diva takes a lot of work
About 30 seconds after my first child was born, I somehow became the master of all of her stuff.
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The kids are growing up faster than we can keep up
My husband and I just celebrated our 17th wedding anniversary. If you add to that the number of years we spent either dating or living in sin, our relationship is now old enough to drink.
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Parenting would be easier if only I knew Dink's secret
By Adrienne Martini One of my college housemates had a family dog named Dink.
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The apple fell far from the tree, but I love her for it
This will come as a shock to exactly no one who knows me but I am not the girliest girl on the planet.
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As the kids' needs for Mom change, Mom's life changes
Now that both kids are in school, all of the thankless work from the last eight years is starting to pay off. As a result, I don't see as many other people as I used to.
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Some surprises aren't found in the surprise itself
I turned 40 earlier this month.
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If time could just speed up and slow down at the same time
At the end of February, I had something happen that I hadn't experienced for almost nine-years: I woke up in my own house and there were no kids in it. This was, in a word, astonishing.
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The Boy may just become this generation's Harpo Marx
The Diva has reached a new stage of development, one that is difficult to make public because this is a small town and her identity is known, if in a limited way. And so I'll merely give you the broadest outline: girls and their social networks are strange and, frequently, cruel.
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While life is often boring, trips make it much more interesting
Our life, by and large, is pretty boring. There's school. There's work. There's a few fun moments, like the Diva's riding lessons or the occasional movie.
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Memories of the kids as they were then mostly recalled in pictures
I have a nearly identical revelation every time I'm forced to go through the stacks of snapshots I really should put in an album already: how did my children get to be so big?
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Even if the box is fun, it's not really enough for Christmas
If I were a true pragmatist _ or a cold-hearted Grinch _ I wouldn't buy any gifts for the kids this year.
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Diva finally got what she wanted for half her life
