Day Fifty-Nine: Date Night

Well, it official. My husband and I are pathetic. We have resorted to scheduling a "date night." I don't know about you, but I have always found this particular term annoying. I'm married, therefore I don't date. I have a husband and we are going to spend some time alone together, not go out on a date. Given, that occurrence is about as common as Haley's Comet, but still, "date night?!" I think I need to think about this some more, as I have found that I don't a have photograph of the two of us since August and that was on the beach with many children. Hence, the advertisement for the place we will have dinner tomorrow night...

In taking stock of this situation, date night is an event in dire need of happening. Of late, we have been acting more like roommates than a married couple. Well, that is not an accurate description either, as I have not felt the need to label my food in the refrigerator and leave cryptic notes around the house about his half of the unpaid utility bills. More accurately, we as a couple have been placed on the back burner; a cold, unlit back burner. Everything and everyone has come first: our kids, his job, the dog, the errands, the yard work. The freakin' car repair appointment has garnered more undivided attention than our relationship.

This is not to say that we have a bad or ailing relationship. We are fortunate enough to be the best of friends. We genuinely like one another and enjoy one an other's company. This phenomenon isn't as common as you might think. I am happy to report that this compatibility has come in particularly handy over the past nine years. These are the years that have included the birth of four children, the loss of one income, the addition of a huge mortgage and one particularly hyper cocker spaniel. If we weren't best friends, the stress alone would have done us in a long time ago. That said, it is time that we both put some effort and attention into the other aspect of our relationship that has been long neglected- quality alone time.

Sadly, the only reason that we are having a scheduled "date night" is because some grateful client gave my husband a big, fat gift certificate to the Three Chimney's Inn. This is the only place in Durham, that I know of, where we can get a nice bottle of wine and a great meal in a settling that is implicitly off-limits to small children (i.e. 4 star dining.) If we didn't have this gift, I am betting that we would be spending about 15 minutes alone after the kids go to bed while some sporting event is baring out of the t.v., trying to have some semblance of an adult conversation. This is usually hampered by the fact that I am so exasperated and/or tired with the event known as "putting the kids" to bed that I can barely get out a coherent sentence. At least we live by my one and only hard and fast relationship rule- Always Kiss Me Goodnight. Just in case he is apt to forget, it is posted prominently over my side table, directly over the reading lamp. He has rarely forgotten.

Although I hate the term "date night," it is what it is. It is another event to schedule and another thing to feel guilty about not doing enough. We are married with children, so therefore, we must "date." Otherwise, we would only subsist on McDonald's Happy Meals for dining out and On Demand for entertainment. If I am truthful, I am looking forward to "date night," and not just because it is a night away from the children. (Hallelujah!) I actually get to have a conversation with my husband that will not be interrupted every 30 seconds with voices screaming from the playroom with little ditties like "he hit me!", "I can't find my lego guy with the black hat!" and "Jacob won't stop hitting the dog!" Pass the wine and start the conversation. Oh yeah, what does he look like again?

Day Fifty-Eight: The Small Favors

For me, the smallest favors often mean the most. I had a very busy, stressful, harried day. Yet, I was able to take a nap for a whole hour. That may not seem like a big deal, it even may seem a bit self-indulgent, but it was a God send. I was woken up twice last night, once by a dog that had to pee like a racehorse and once by a snoring husband who was about to suck the fan off the ceiling. Of course, my three year old has not adjusted to the time change, so he was awake demanding juice and the Mickey Mouse show at 6:00 a.m. I got through the morning with a great deal of caffeine and not much patience. I received an unexpected reprieve at 10:00 a.m. when a neighbor took my remaining child off my hands for a play date. Joy! Nap! I got a whole hour of uninterrupted sleep on a cold, rainy morning. There was nothing at that moment in time that could have made me happier.

This got me contemplating the meaning of small favors. I have mulled over the inconvenience of the large, imposing favors and concluded that it is absolutely fine to say no. (Except to me, of course.) The small favors are the those that don't take much effort but seem to help someone out a great deal. "Pay it forward" is a great example and one I lived by today. I picked up another neighbor's child at school just to make life easier for her for that one hour out of the day. It took no effort on my part, as I was going to the school to get my own kids anyway. I'm sure if I needed someone to do it for me, they wouldn't hesitate. I'm also sure this is because most people who know me know that I am willing to lend a hand when I can. What does go around certainly does comes around. I don't think that the mom I helped today got in a nap, but it was one less thing she had to worry about.

This stuff happens all the time to all of us. We help family, coworkers, friends, neighbors and acquaintances. Whomever is in need of something that is quick, easy and unobtrusive, most of us deliver it without even a second thought. Its the people who hesitate, the one's who find even the most simple request taxing who make life difficult for the rest of us. Breathe easy though, because, once again, what goes around, comes around!

I am learning, during the course of this writing project, that the little things do mean the most. The grand gestures are welcome and are wonderful to both give and receive, but they are often not the stuff that makes our lives better over the long haul. The small acts of kindness, the smiles, the understanding hug, the occasional favor are what make communities. Communities bind us to one another and give us our greatest pleasures in life. It doesn't matter if those communities are small and intimate, like families that create traditions and celebrations from life's milestones or if they are large like whole towns that care about their kids, their elderly and their environment. Bound communities give off a positive energy that is often infectious. It is always pleasant to be one small part of a community that contributes to well being of the whole. So, the truism for today is that the small favors and the little kindnesses are what will make our lives better, easier and much less lonely. It only takes a moment to demonstrate caring and compassion. Don't let the opportunity get away from you. You never know when you might need it in return.

Day Fifty-Seven: The Technology Conundrum

Ever notice how technology is supposed to bring us closer together but it actually succeeds in isolating us even further? I, for one, am getting sick of all the high tech gadgets out there. iPod, iPhone, iTunes, Blackberry, DS, Blue Tooth, wi-fi, laptops, wii, gps, google, Facebook, ebay: you name it and every single one of us is addicted to some techno-thingy or another. What has the technological bandwagon provided for us? A faster, more expedient way to waste time, spend money and ignore the people around us. Doesn't sound so cool when you look at it that way, does it?

I can't count the number of times that my husband has walked through the door after a long day at work, said "hello" and then proceeded to stare into the black hole of his Blackberry. They aren't called CrackBerries for nothing. It makes me completely crazy when he does that. Unless it runs out of charge or I hide it, he is constantly connected to work. No real down time does not a rested man make.

Not that he is the only culprit in my house. I have been guilty on many occasions of staring into the voids known as my email, my ebay and Facebook to the exclusion of all that is going on around me. I get hyper-focused on my beautiful flat screened iMac. My children could set off a bomb directly behind my computer chair and I bet I wouldn't take my eyes off the screen long enough to put the fire out. Just today, my three year old literally grabbed my face so I would stop typing long enough to pay him my undivided attention. That quickly put things in perspective for me.

Because my husband and I are addicted to our own technological toys of choice, it makes it hypocritical of us to chastise our children when mired in their own technological pursuits. My nine year old is absolutely addicted to video games. It doesn't matter if it is on the computer, the wii or his nintento DS (thanks, Grandma Alice!). He will not stop playing unless he is physically stopped. I once could not find him in the house. I searched all over and no one had any idea where he had gone. I found him in the playroom closet, in the dark, on a beanbag chair playing his DS. He told me playing was more fun in the dark where it is quiet and no one could bother him. I was a bit disturbed on many levels with that declaration.

Our home is but a microcosm of our larger society. Many would rather catch up with old friends on facebook rather than actually getting together and having a conversation. Too many people cannot ever leave work behind. The constant checking of email, toting laptops and answering cell phones on breaks, on weekends and on vacations cannot be good for one's state of mind. Some people prefer to shop for hours on a computer rather than actually step outside and interact with the actual products, let alone the people who sell them. With a click of a mouse, the whole world is open for viewing. The masses seek not information, knowledge and understanding. The great speed of the Internet seems to be reserved for the latest Hollywood scandal or the most lurid, violent news. Our basest selves are being served not our greater good.

All in all, I think that the great strides in technology have made our lives more frenzied, more solitary and more selfish. If we could use all this technology as mere tools for enhancing our lives and not the focus of our existence, we would all be much better off. Turn off all this stuff once a day. Put it away. Hide it. Play with your kids, talk to your spouse, go for a walk and meet your neighbors. Technology cannot replace human face-to-face interaction if we want to retain our humanity.

Day Fifty-Six: Too Much?

A Few Things I Let Them Try On Their Own:

Joey Mixing Cookie Dough

Josh Go-Carting

Jack "Driving"

Jacob Helping With Yard Work

I have no idea, once again, if I am doing this right! Am I doing too much? As you all know by now, I am a type A+, get-it-all done perfect, hovering type of person. Add motherhood to this mix and it is down right scary. I have been wondering if my personality type, great for all aspects of drudgery (organizing, cleaning, errand running, etc.) is not so great for rearing independent children.

My nine year old needs a great deal of direction, or so I have been telling myself for years. I now suspect that my direction has breeded a dependence on that very direction. There is no doubt in my mind that he has an "absent-minded professor" aspect to his personality. Clothes strew about in his wake, one project abandoned for the next, forgetting just about everything going out the door and forgetting it again at school when he comes home are just some examples of his dreamy nature. Yet, he is incredibly intelligent. His verbal skills often rival the 40 year old adults around him, no doubt the product of two trained litigators. Then why can't he tie his shoes in a manner that keeps them on his feet?

A side effect of my type A+ personality is a boat load of impatience. Couple impatience and perfectionism with four boys under the age of nine, and you have a recipe for disaster. I have caught myself many, many times doing things for my kids simply because I don't have the patience or the time to wait and watch them do it themselves. Are they going to be asking their prom dates to tie their shoes? Will their college professors stand over them to make sure they are on task with their thesis paper? Will their coaches make sure they have all their equipment before they get on the bus? No, no and no. I know this. What I don't know is, how old is too old for hovering? When is it good parenting to step back and watch them suffer consequences for failing to do what is expected of them? How does an A+ type personality with a huge marshmallow for a heart do that? When does protecting and teaching your kids morph into coddling and smothering?

I know that I must make myself step back and let my nine year old learn some life lessons. It is very hard for me and because I have set it up that way, I think it will be very hard on him too. I remember it being said that all the mistakes are made on the oldest. I am learning that this is, in fact, true. There is a reason people rely on birth order traits. It just seems to me that others have a better balance. It is likely that those I am thinking of do not have a type A personality and are not first born children, as I am. It is also likely that they do not have four children, who are all boys, all within 24 months of each other. God doesn't give you what you cannot handle, so I am confident that I will figure all this out just in time for my three year son's college graduation.

In the meantime, I resolve to stop picking up their messes. I clearly remember saying that I will raise boys who know how to clean up after themselves, makes themselves a meal and do their own laundry. This was when I had one son. Now I am happy if they remember to wipe the pee off the toilet seat. Make that amazed if they wipe the pee off the toilet seat. I resolve to let them try some things and fail. That is, so long as these things do not involve sharp knives, walks in the woods or boiling water. Finally, I resolve to stop insisting on perfection. My obsessive need to get it all done perfectly- cleaning the play room, making the beds and whatever other stupid task I have undertaken- is creating a standard that these boys cannot possible achieve. Why try if failure is guaranteed? Better yet, why try if Mom will simply do it for me?

Now I'm off to help with baths. This will mean staying in the bathroom for the three year old, staying outside the open door for the five year old and letting the other two fend for themselves. This is new territory. Wish me luck. I am sure I am going to be sitting on my hands and clamping my mouth shut a great deal over the next few weeks. My husband will be very grateful and the noise level should drop appreciably. Most importantly, I know I will raise stronger boys for it.

Day Fifty-Five: Food Drive

Today was a good day to be involved in scouting. My eight Wolf Cubs, five parents, five various siblings and two red wagons set out to canvas our neighborhood in search of canned goods to donate to our local food bank. In groups of two, we split the area in half and in 45 minutes we had four large boxes of food to help those in need.

The kids were a riot. They just had been through the neighborhood two nights ago for trick-or-treating. All the short cuts were familiar and the paths well worn. They ran from house to house like they were filling their own goody sacks and not the red wagon with canned goods. The boys took turns knocking on doors and asking for donations. No matter how many times we went over the correct thing to say, most times the request came out as "do you have any food for poor people that you don't need to put in the 'fridge?" I had a hard time keeping a straight face.

I was quite tired from traveling up and down long driveways and hills. I know I'm not in the best shape, but I had to pull the wagon out of a ravine once and pull it uphill full of kids and cans at least three or four times. The kids, on the other hand, were still raring to go once we got back to the house. I celebrated their hard work and generosity with pizza, a backyard fire and lots of oreos. They, in turn, celebrated being kids on a warm fall afternoon by jumping in leaves, playing tag, brandishing play swords (not so Scout friendly, I know) and skateboarding up and down our driveway.

All in all, I have to say, I feel really good about today. I helped teach these boys something about helping others in need and a little bit about teamwork. I am sure that it was fun for them, so when we move onto the next community project, they will look forward to participating. If this is all they get out of scouting from now until next May, then I think I have done a good job. Given the great group of kids I have, I am sure there will be many other things to enjoy along the way. In the meantime, I'll be stocking up on oreos and light sabers just to make sure.