Natural GPS vs TMI

When my beloved spouse and I first traveled together on our honeymoon, he quickly surmised that I was not a map reader. North, south, east west, I couldn’t give directions that way at that point. My directions were more like, “We turn left on Such and Such street.”

“When is such and such street?”

“It’s after this and that street and I think it’s on your left. You can’t miss it.”

“North or East?”

“I don’t know.”

“Where are we on the map?”

I’d be silent for a moment, trying to ensure accuracy, but this would rattle him as he felt my lack of instant response indicated I didn’t know where we were. He’d reach over and amazingly touch the exact spot where we were on the map without taking his eyes off the road.

“If you knew where we were, why did you ask?”

“I’m verifying. You’re the navigator.” At that point, I volunteered to drive.

Since then, I have gotten better, but he’s also stopped asking me to read the maps.

For the record, he’s never been lost. I cannot say the same thing, even within the friendly confines of this county where I have lived the past 13 years. I cannot even say it is true for the past four months, but I blame pregnancy, not my innate navigational compass which seems permanently wired to “guess wrong.”

My husband’s natural GPS has been passed down to our posterity. Some of our children can always tell when I’ve made a wrong turn and will ask suspiciously, “Mom? Where are we going?” I’ve tried dodging that question, ”Don’t worry, I know where we are…” but they don’t buy it anymore. They know, if I suddenly stop at a gas station for a “Diet Coke” and fuel, that really, I’m getting directions.

Sometimes, they’ve even checked the gas gage to see if we “really” needed gasoline. Whenever they’ve seen a discrepancy between perceived need and actual stopping, Dad gets a full report. “I think Mommy got lost over near Quince Orchard when we were coming back from the Orthodontist.”

Now I believe in plausible deniability. It’s good for marriage. It’s good for the ego. It’s good for the children to not be able to entirely embarrass their mother.

My husband will give a raised eyebrow and look, but he too has mellowed over the years. Knowing that knowing too much might mean I ask him to do the scheduled errands out to softball practice and the orthodontist, he doesn't ask even when they tell. And since he doesn’t know where the practice field is, or which dentist takes care of our daughter’s braces, he’d have to put up with my directions.

“It’s on such and such street just past this and that. You can’t miss it.”

Communication and non communication, it's what makes a marriage work.

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Mommy Feeling Energy

A friend of mine was stuck at a dinner where a woman espoused that she planned on purchasing a poodle so she could experience that “Mommy Feeling Energy.”

Now I know that pets are members of the family. They provide comfort, companionship and require good care. I don’t doubt the depth of feeling of owners of dogs, cats, ferrets, horses and all things furry; it’s just that the comparisons themselves are wrong; apples and oranges, kids and dogs, fish and bicycles. The emotional connection between the cared for and the caring is not something I wish to mock, it’s the intellectual argument of equal footing. Any pet owner can leave a dish of water and a dish of food and walk out the door to work, even if the dog is six months old. There is still some questioning of parental judgment if a sixteen year old with a fully stocked refrigerator is left unsupervised for more than two hours.

You can teach a dog to sit. “Stay. Come. Heel. Quiet. Fetch.” All can be taught within the first year. Kids, you have to latch into a car seat and hope they sit, stay, and keep the noise below public ordinance levels. After ten years, they still need daily reminders to put shoes in the closet, not leave milk glasses on top of the piano, and empty garbage cans before they cascade onto the floor. Dogs don’t have homework or relive fights they had with their litter mates that happened three days ago with full emotional vigor. As expensive a breed of dog, cat or whatever as you can find, as gourmet as pet food comes, and as many medical needs as they might have, pets still won’t require a new clothes each year for school, a college education, extra trips for soccer games or a cell phone. At some point, a dog is still a dog, even if it’s a Chihuahua.

Kids demand more from day one. They take over your body, your brain, your house, your life, your whole heart. The stretchmarks they leave on one’s soul are wider and more permanent than any one might find on the abdomen or one’s pocketbook. They connect us to our parents, and to the future and demand via their very own neediness that we become more the people we were always supposed to be.

Finally, no one has ever uttered the words, “I’m going to have a kid so I can experience what it’s like to own a pet. It will give me that Pet Owning Emotional connection.”

Feeling good today, only 30 or less days until Paul arrives so expect the postings to drop off sometime near the end of September. So when that happens, try Humor-Blogs.com!

Book Em Friday...or Tuesday, 10 O'Clock

I love and trust my doctor, but I hate specialists.

They love having extra appointments. They love making rules that no children can come, and they love setting hours that prevent leaving kids with my supportive spouse unless he takes the day off.

Yesterday, I finally got a hold of the specialist reception office. They take off from 12 to 2 for lunch and the machine doesn’t take messages and close at 4, except on Monday, when they close at 3. The phones also aren’t answered before 9 am.

When I complained about the inflexibility of times available, the receptionist explained, if I had called last week, I could have found better times. I called last week. No one answered the phone, even though it was during business hours.

“What day was that?”
“Thursday.”

“That was our staff meeting day. We turn off the phones so as to not be interrupted.”

“…Okay, well, now when can I come in?”

“2:45 Tuesday.”

“That’s when school is out and I pick up my kids…”

“What time is good then?
“I can come on Monday, Wednesday or Friday between 10 and 12:30.”

“We have an opening at four on Thursday.”
“The times I gave where when I would only have to find a sitter for my infant. If I come at 4 on a Thursday, I would have to bring all seven younger children.”

I think she thought I was kidding because she then offered 3 o’clock on Tuesday and then five on Monday. I kept bringing up the problem of child supervision and she finally sighed and offered up noon on Thursday.

I’d have to bring three kids. Hardly ideal, but I took it.

“What is this test for anyway?”
“Stress.”
…

“Hello?”
“I’m stressed.”

“Pardon me?”
“Your schedule for my appointment. It’s stressing me out.”

“This isn’t about your stress levels.” She explained.
“Apparently.”

“This is about the stress experienced by the baby.” She soothed.
“But if Mom is stressed, you can bet baby is stressed.” I argued.
“You can book the next four appointments.” She wasn't moving.

And lucky me got 10:15 Thursday, a 2:00 Wednesday and a lovely 3:30 on a Friday. I’d be schlepping three to seven for each of these examinations…I hoped the little guy had low blood pressure because this would be scads of fun.

Looking at a blocky ugly crowded three weeks, I dutifully penciled the schedule into my calendar.

“You’re in luck.” The receptionist said, “For the fourth appointment, I can manage an 11:30 on a Wednesday.”

My need to win got the better of me and I refused to book the final appointment—“He’s due that week so I don’t think I’ll need one.”

“You could always cancel.”
“No. I don’t want to even have it on the schedule.”

“I think you’re being rather childish.”
“No, it’s just that I’m having a company meeting that week and won’t be able to take calls.” I hung up and sighed contently at the aparently unscheduled week.

I probably just earned a few years on hold in purgatory but I haven’t yet decided to be penitent.

P.S. If you're stuck on hold or stuck with a customer like me on the line, you could use a laugh so try Humor-Blogs.com!