First off, the kids woke up possessed by the devil. I don't know why. It all began when Michael tried to do some work on the computer instead of giving the kids his undivided 6 a.m. attention. Blue and Green are perfectly content to play by themselves, unless the supervising adult tries to get something done. Then they join forces to destroy the adult: hitting each other, jumping on the couch, farting loudly. It wasn't long before Michael put down his computer and was dragged into a game of ZINGO, which is bingo with pictures (Did I ever tell you the story about the time when Green sang the bingo song in the grocery store? You know, the one that goes "B-I-N-G-O, and Bingo was his name-O." Well, anyway, Green had the tune down, but not Bingo's name. At the top of his lungs, he bellowed, "B-I-M-B-O, B-I-M-B-O, B-I-M-B-O, and Bimbo was its name-O." I was very proud.)
Back to the Zingo board game. Michael was sleepily doing his job, trying to lose every time, when WHAM! He miscalculated and won a game. Green erupted in that special way that he has, weeping hysterically. Michael commenced his sportsmanship speech, the one that goes something like, "It's not important whether you win or lose. It's about having fun!" Yeah, right. Green is smarter than that. Winning is totally important, and losing sucks.
But the screaming. God. It was enough to drive me to get a cocktail before the sun came up. We needed to get out of the house, and fast. But there was still a problem -- we hadn't fully settled on what the day's activity was going to be. Should we go to the mountains? If so, which hike -- the waterfall or the water slide? Those of you who have been around us know how loooong it takes us to make decisions. The process goes something like this:
Me: So which hike should we do?
Michael: I don't know. What do you think?
Me: Well, there are pros and cons to each one. If the boys refuse to go in the water, the water slide will be a bust. But the waterfall one is awfully close to the freeway, so it might not be as pretty.
Michael: Will you do me a favor and just pick one?
Me: All week long I have to think up activities and make plans. I just don't think I can do it today.
Michael: OK, let's do the water slide one.
Me: I don't think that's a good choice.
Since both hikes were in the same general direction, we decided to decide later. First, we needed to get ready to go, a process that included 2 showers, the boys' second breakfasts, getting the kids dressed (and the ongoing butts-on-pillows battle), and packing the backpack. Michael took the first shower, and I immediately had to give Green a time-out for smacking Blue (who had taunted him with an under-the-breath chant : "Mean, naughty Green won't get dessert at lunch! Mean, naughty Green gets NO TREATS!"). The time-out is supposed to involve 5 minutes of deep reflection about the error of one's ways, but usually it involves cataclysmic screaming that will someday generate a visit from Child Protective Services. Strangely, this time Green was quiet in his room. "Good for me," I thought. "I am a downright effective disciplinarian." But when I smugly went to get him after the time was up, I was in for a rather rude surprise: Green had disassembled the entire curtain/shade apparatus. Needless to say, I was the one who did the cataclysmic screaming this time.
Somehow, we all managed to get through the showering and second breakfasts. Afterwards, I presented Michael with another issue: where to find the required parking passes that you need to buy if you want to use one of the Forest Service trails. No information was available on the internet, and you can't buy single use passes online. Michael came up with the idea that we should stop by a ranger station to find out how to get one (remember how he loves a pretty ranger?).While we were figuring out how far the detour to the ranger station would be, Green came into the room with a smile on his face. "There's a problem with the toilet," he said. "What kind of problem?" Michael asked. "Well," Green answered, "everything that's supposed to be in the toilet is on the floor."
Oy. An overflow. Too much toilet paper stuffed into the bowl. What a mess.
I have to admit that I was beginning to lose my cool about the day's activities. As I was gathering up spare clothes for the boys (assuming we were to go to the water slide), Michael sat down to tell them about our plan. "Today we're going to do something really fun!" He said. "We're going on a hike where we get to play in the water!" Green said, "I'm not going. I don't like hiking." Michael resumed his pep talk. "It'll be fun!" he chirped. "You can bring your buckets!" "I'm not going," Green said.
At this point, I chucked the whole pile of clothes I was carrying across the living room. "I'm not going either!" I shrieked. I ran back to the bedroom and slammed the door. I heard Blue ask, "Why is Mama throwing things? We're not supposed to throw things in the house."
Soon thereafter, we were on our way to the beach. Who can argue with the beach? The boys can dig, the adults can read, the sun can shine and warm all of our hearts. But guess what? As we were about a mile away from our house, we could see big, dark clouds rolling in. No joke. But there was no turning back. We had finally decided what to do. We packed the bag. We gathered the toys. We were on our way. We were going to ENJOY OURSELVES, DAMMIT!
It didn't rain, but it sure was cloudy. I put on my jacket, and covered myself with a beach towel. "Go dig a hole," I told the boys. They wandered over to the water, half-heartedly tapped the sand with their shovels, and came back. "There's nothing fun here," Green said. "When can we go get ice cream?" I made a face like I was going to start throwing things again, so Michael came up with a new rule: No busy = No ice cream. The boys were required to be busy for one hour, and for the sake of a sugary treat, they obliged.
One hour. I had a book. Michael had a nap. Blue and Green had some busy.
And then we ate.
2 comments:
I've decided this is the problem with photos and videos. After telling this story that makes the rest of the world say, "hmmm, I'm glad I'm not you," she posts a picture of the kid with a beaming, ice cream filled face. All was right in Green's world at that moment, and it's been captured forever. Funny how we don't commemorate the less pleasant moment with a picture.
I know, the obvious answer is that we don't want to relive the bad times, but without the stories written down like this, we're left with a historical record that shows nothing but happy, smiling kids. We have albums, hard drives, and miniDV tapes full of the happy moments and sometimes have to wonder why we found the early years so hard.
But, then again, those good moments are pretty good.
Michael, that picture is the cherry on top of that story. And hey, some of us ARE you, so no hmms here. Keep those stories coming.
We take pictures of our kids to keep track of changes, which the bigger kid will actually want to see. Who cares if memories distort the mean child surliness? Without getting too specific or maudlin (really), sometimes things change unexpectedly and those crappy pictures of interest to nobody become suddenly precious. (I sure wish there were a synonym for that entirely co-opted last word. There is nothing cloying intended-- think ingots. Badass dudes in moon suits pouring liquid metal into ingots and trying not to spill a drop. Or maybe the Chrissie Hynde song.)
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