Canadian Chronicles 2009: Are We There Yet?

We shuffled the girls through the rotation of sharing the hard as a rock, not-enough-room-for-a-little-butt-cheek, middle seat. By the time we hit a few grocery stores, the wine store (essential), and the sports store for a kayak, we had already been sitting in the darn car for hours.

And the rain rain rain came down down down.

Everywhere we went, the people were complaining about how it was the worst summer ever. We of course, hoped that we had brought bright, sunny weather from California. We refused to buy into the foreshadowing of gloom and doom.

Alas, we loaded our purchases into the car, tried to keep a stiff upper lip, and braved the torrential downpour.

At the sport's store, the nice man lashed the new kayak on top of the car, ignoring the pelting drops. He was Canadian, and he was making the best of it with smiles and sarcasm.

We drove slowly and carefully away from civilization. I squinted through the glass, trying to keep a steady eye on the road through the water-soaked windshield. The words 'Cabin Fever' kept slipping into my mind. As we twisted and turned out of civilization, I had flashes from "The Shining."

Auto Parent

A post written last summer while the older 2 kids were away at camp:

Day four of sleep away camp. Birk and I have been bonding over our divergent interests: she, the dvd player; me the computer. Hours go by where she plays quietly in her room. Hours go by that she is using both hands to hold my face and say "Mommy! Mommy! Mommy! Mommy!"

Something occurred to me on the fourth visit to the restroom at a restaurant yesterday. Germ-phobe (yes, that too) that I am, I am looking all around the bathroom stall with a sharp eye for pathogens, while listening to my daughter sing. My foot is tapping with impatience and I'm wondering if it's really fair for me to tell her to concentrate and hurry up one more time. Yes, my revelation was that it occurred to me that I have been living on Auto Parent mode.

The magic of having older kids is that they take their sister to the bathroom. They take their sister to the park. They are willing to play with plastic animals and the wooden farm house for hours. Ugh! My poor daughter is stuck with me for another week and a half, alone. Boring, tired, playless mommy.

When I try to sift the moments that we spend together, I see that much of the time we barely interact: making and serving breakfast like a zombie while I scream for everyone to hurry up or we'll be late; zooming along in transit to one activity or another while tabulating the endless lists in my mind; dropping them off for school; picking them up; transit; dinner; bedtime race; bed.

I am sometimes hearing the question, the story, the thought as she talks in the back seat. I find myself lost and nodding or asking her to repeat herself. I'm tired of auto parent. Where's the control thingie so that I can turn myself back on?

3rd Child Syndrome: Nothing Comes Between A Seven Year Old And Her Cell Phone

Birk was having one of those days. You know, the kind of day when you want to lock yourself in the bathroom, lie down on the floor and cry your eyes out. Except, when you are seven, you really do this.

It all started when she booked a playdate. When you are the third child, you rarely get playdates. The third child spends her life following her siblings to dentist appointments, baseball games, dance rehearsals, trips to the store to buy your brother hiking boots, etc... Yes, in short, life is not fair, especially when you're the shortest in the family.

She had booked this epic playdate with her very own bestest friend. It had been weeks since they had good old fashion girl play time. She was counting down the days as if it were Christmas or Obama's inauguration. The magic day finally arrived and she skipped happily home with her friend after school.

After a decadent ice cream snack, big sister Ruth decided to join in the fun. She created an elaborate game of wild cats and the little girls were eating it up. Suddenly, Birk realized what was going on--her big SISTER had HI-JACKED the paydate. This is when she retreated to the bathroom and the waterworks began. High volume, crocodile tears, and sobs with broken statements like:

• Ruth is stealing my best friend.
  


• This is the worst day of my life!
  


• Why do these things always happen to me?
  


• I have no friends.
  


• Mommy! My feelings are really hurting!

I tried to comfort her, but there was no comfort to be had. She had had her first heartbreak right here in our very own home. I was helpless. The tears continued and no amount of apologies from her sister or best friend lowered the water pressure or the volume. She was howling, curled up in a ball on the bathroom floor and wouldn't budge.

Now, what you may not know about Birk is that she has staying power. As a baby, one of my main phrases was "Keep the baby happy!" This was simply because once she crossed into tears or tantrums, that was it. It didn't stop. To this day, I think there is nothing that hits a mother's core like the screams of her baby, no matter what the issue. It can drive you insane...and make you drive insane if you are in the car.

Well, best friend went home...the wailing upstairs continued. I made dinner...the wailing continued. Finally, about to pull my hair out or put my head in the oven I whispered the magic words, "Stop crying. If you just stop crying you can have your sister's old cell phone."

You know a stupid thing as soon as it exits your mouth. To my defense, I had that mother piercing two hours of shrieking to shake my inner core of reason. I sat there, paralyzed by my own lack of intelligent anything in my skull.

Immediately the tears stopped, she exited the bathroom and began doing cartwheels of joy up and down the hallway. I handed her the pink phone on one condition, that she not tell ANYBODY about it and ESPECIALLY NOT HER FATHER!

"But, mom, you know, we should tell my teachers."

"Oh, and DOUBLE ESPECIALLY DON'T TELL YOUR TEACHERS OR ANYONE AT SCHOOL."

I am so embarrassed. I just switched my kids from Verizon to AT&T, and I had this one phone that I hadn't switched yet. Ughhhhhhhh! Don't tell anyone how stupid I am. How long until Birk realizes that she can't phone anyone if she can't tell anyone that she has a cell phone...except me?

The Tooth Fairy

That darn tooth fairy. It seems like she, or he, is falling down on the job. When my 11 year old son first started losing teeth, the tooth fairy arrived like clock work. However, as more teeth came out and his sister started losing teeth as well, it seemed like the fairy had changed her flight pattern.

By the time our third child started to loose her teeth, the quality of the tooth fairy's work had slipped beyond recognition. She became fickle, sometimes taking three or four nights to take the tooth and put the quarters under the pillow.

There also seemed to be a new policy that she didn't visit when daddy was out of town--because, of course, he would want to see the tooth before she took it away.

Her inconsistancies raged on with some teeth being worth 2 dollars, some 5 and, on one occasion, my son woke up to find a 20 dollar bill under his pillow.

The final straw came last night when the tooth fairy left a gift certificate. It was small and written in pink letters on notebook paper that said child #3 was entitled to 2 plastic figures from our local toy store.

That morning we promptly presented our certificate, with little fanfare, to the toy store clerk. He didn't seemed phased as I paid for the other items and he popped the 2 plastic figures into the bag with the rest of the lot. Obviously it wasn't the first time the tooth fairy had left i.o.u.s to children in our small town.

Discussion in Car on the Way Home:

Kid#3: Why does the tooth fairy steal from little kids?

Mom: She doesn't steal from kids.

Kid#3: But she takes your tooth!

Mom: She leaves something in return.

Kid#2: Then it's like you're selling your tooth?

Kid#1: Remember that time I got 20 bucks from the tooth fairy?

Kid#2: That must of been because we were in Canada. That was the Canadian tooth fairy. I hope I lose a tooth in Canada.

Kid#3: How can the tooth fairy get a gift certificate? Where does she get her money?

Kid#2: And how does the man at the store get paid back for the plastic figures?

Mom: I think there must of been a bar code on the certificate.

K2: I didn't see one on there.

Mom: Maybe it's organized with the government.

K2: The tooth fairy is part of the government?

K3: We should go back in there and try to use the certificate again. Maybe we'd get more plastic figures.

K2: How would the tooth fairy be part of the government???

Mom: Who's ready to stop and get some lunch?