Day Sixty-Five: Sick Days

It is amazing what a 3 year old can do in the span of 5 minutes with a spice rack, a pound of sugar, three coffee cups, five measuring spoons and a very tall chair. I never knew that if you mixed sugar, coriander, cilantro, caraway seeds and sage you can make the whole house smell like something burnt not to long ago. I'm not sure if he is a budding chef or simply the most mischievous child in the universe. I should have named him Dennis, because he really is a menace.

I surprised myself upon finding this mess in the kitchen. I didn't scream, I didn't lose my temper, I didn't even put him in time out. I first laughed then ran to get the camera and snapped this photo with Jacob in full impish grin. I then had him clean up as best as he was able, I finished with the vacuum and called it good. What gives?

Whenever one of my children gets sick, I have an overwhelming amount of patience. I have no idea where this well of patience comes from, as I cannot summons it at will. My kids can barf, cry and even whine and I don't so much as furrow a brow if they are truly sick. I have learned that illness much be incontrovertibly confirmed via a calibrated thermometer, a doctor's diagnosis or visible vomit residue. I have been known to tell my children to quit whining when later it turns out that they have a double ear infection, so without the confirmation, the patience factor is nonexistent. My (very soon to be) 6 year old is home with a fever and a cough, which my school nurse and the CDC tells me is very likely the H1N1 virus. Today, he could do no wrong. Apparently, this transferred by osmosis to his younger brother.

I am afraid that this unconscious empathetic, patient reaction to the illness of my children will breed some very inventive lying on their part. Every single one of them is too smart for my own good, so sooner or later they are going to clue into this phenomenon. One or more will convincingly fake illness so drill sergeant Mom will turn into Glenda the Good Witch Mom. I am sure that they will do so in such a way that Ferris Bueller and Laurence Olivier would be proud. Regardless, I certainly welcome this rush of patience, as it makes the day go by in a much more pleasant manner than I or they are accustomed. I wish I knew what part of the brain was stimulated so I could take a pill, press a button and/or read a Rorschach ink block test to conjure it up from the depths of my psyche.

Until that day, we all have to live with drill sergeant Mom. I have to admit, I don't like her very much, but without her this place would descend into chaos. I would feel worse about it, but since I have discovered Malcom In the Middle on Nike at Nite I have learned that four boys a drill sergeant Mom makes, and makes for very funny entertainment at that. I will just have to be thankful that the universe has given me this gift for patience at a time when it would really be unfair to the kids if I didn't have any. As the saying goes, God doesn't give you what you cannot handle, so apparently I couldn't handle sick kids without this miracle He, in his wisdom, has bestowed upon me. I hope there is no expiration date on this particular miracle. I have feeling it will come in handy over the next 18 years or so.

Day Sixty-Four: The Birthday Celebrations of Childhood

I went to my nephew's birthday party today. He is now the ripe old age of 4 years old. I was struck with how much fun he was having. He was running, laughing and squealing with delight in pure, uncensored joy. Is there anything more wonderful than the excitement and happiness of a child during a birthday party?

I sat back and watched a room full of 4 year olds (with a sprinkling of 3, 6, 7 & 9 year olds too) have fun doing the most mundane of things. Running, playing hide and seek, eating pizza, telling silly jokes, working with toy trains and playing follow-the-leader. There wasn't much thought at all to the gifts. There sat a big pile of gifts off in the corner and not much, if any, attention was paid to them during the hours of play. When gift opening time did come, there was a mad rush of children to the pile and the jostling to "help" open them, but not that much interest in the gifts themselves. Maybe it was because a few hours had passed and the 4 year olds were tired. Maybe it was the sheer volume of gifts became overwhelming to a 4 year old. Maybe it was something else entirely and much more elemental. I think that a 4 year old knows instinctively what most teenagers and adults have forgotten. The birthday party is not about the gifts. It is about the time with friends and family, sharing laughs, sharing food and games, and making memories.

My nephew's birthday party was a very exciting place for the 4 year old crowd. He had it at the Narrow Gauge Railroad in Portland. There were trains to play on, trains to eat cake in and a trains on which to take a ride. This was not elaborate or over-the-top. It was simple and it was perfect. Each child left with a little paper train box with some candy and some playdough. A very nice thank you for coming gift. This, I have to say, was a rare treat. Going to a child's birthday party without watching someone spend an arm and a leg to throw it was a real treat. I have been caught up in the birthday party throwing "keeping up with the Jones" mentality of late. While watching today's festivities I had my "Aha Moment."

When did a childhood birthday party become more about the adults than the children? When did spending so much money on a birthday party become the norm? I have never understood the newly formed custom of giving gifts to the children who come to the party. It's one thing to give a token goody bag as a thank you, but it is entirely another thing when the gift the kid receives exceeds or is equal in value to the gift he brought to the party. I have had kids ask me point blank, "what's in the goody bag" well before the party is even underway. I have heard about children who grumble "This is it?!" when they get less than elaborate parting gifts. The destination parties, the parties where there is hired entertainment, the parties that rival the expense of the average wedding...what are we teaching our children? Is this the lesson, if Mommy and Daddy can spend a lot of money on you for a birthday party, we love you more than those who don't? I think that is exactly what we are teaching our children and then we wonder why they act spoiled and entitled at every birthday, Christmas, Hanukkah, 4th of July, Patriot's Day, snow day and sick day. I, for one, resolve to tone it way, WAY down from here on out. That is not what I want to teach my children at all.

I have many wonderful childhood memories of birthday parties past. None of them cost very much at all. They couldn't have, because we didn't have very much money to buy groceries, let alone throw birthday parties. Despite this, I remember my Mom making elaborate cakes from scratch with character shaped cake pans. I remember playing pin-the-tail on the donkey and thinking I was fooling everyone when I was looking out of the top of the blindfold. I remember getting a really cool Barbie and how all my friends wanted it but it was mine. I remember putting on my black patent leather party shoes and feeling so stylish and grown up. I mostly remember feeling very special at my birthday parties. I felt that way without Chuck-E the Mouse, Bozo the Clown or a Lear jet flown in for my entertainment. My friends had fun and remained my friends without leaving with a Toy-R-Us gift card, a Chia Pet or a diamond tiara. Funny how that worked out hindsight.

All of this has changed for me now that I am a grown up. Well, except for the black, patent leather party shoes. They just have a higher heel and more expensive label, but they still make me feel very stylish and grown up. Or has it really changed? The principal remains the same. I still want to feel special on my birthday. Who doesn't? My favorite birthdays now are the ones where I get to spend time with my friends and family, sharing a laugh, a glass of champagne and lots of chocolate cake. The gifts are great, don't get me wrong (and don't stop them from coming, hint, hint) but it is the time well spent together that is the true birthday gift. It just took watching a bunch of 4 year olds today to realize it. I hope to pass on this lesson to my children. If we all get together and resolve to do the same, we could start a birthday revolution! Here's hoping....