Raw Drip

In case you ever find yourself in the position of doing a cross country do-it-yourself move with 2 kids, a dog, and a house full of stuff here are some lessons I learned:

1. Beware of the last-minute basement clean-out.  Not only does sorting through it take twice as long as you thought it would, but it uncovers all sorts of stuff you forgot you had and now need to get rid of  immediately (see lesson #2).
2. If you post a curb alert on Craigslist on Easter Sunday saying, “Free baby & kids’ stuff at the curb by 8PM tonight” expect an enormous turnout because people will show up for free stuff no matter the holiday or how late it is.   More importantly, these people will show up with their entire family and all of them will be equipped with  industrial strength flashlights.  They’ll yell loudly to each other saying things like, “Ma! Look these crazy people are throwing out a talking potty chair and some perfectly good Darth Vader lip balm!” and annoy the hell out of your neighbors who are already pissed off at you because of all the crap on your lawn.
3. When you’re driving a 27 ft truck with a car in tow it’s really hard to find good parking (don’t even think about going in reverse) and you can’t really go faster than 55 mph on the highway.  Oh, another important fact – the truck engine is REALLY LOUD so you won’t hear your cell phone ringing when your wife is calling to tell that you’re driving the wrong way down a one-way street.
4. Traveling south with small children? Chick-fil-a is your friend.  The indoor play areas are awesome for helping kids get some energy out and all the kid meals come with ice cream.   While the children are away playing, you can eat their ice cream.
5. Call the bank before you leave town and tell them that you’ll be using your debit card in all sorts of strange places for odd amounts that are out of your typical spending pattern.  Knowing this will prevent you from standing bleary-eyed and confused at a gas station in Tifton, GA at 2:30am repeatedly swiping your card and wondering why it isn’t working and thinking your identity must have been stolen by the shifty clerk at the roadside inn you stayed at last night.

I hope these tips will save you some heartache in the future.  

In the meantime, let me just say this: I am NEVER moving again.  Seriously, they’re gonna have to remove my skeletal remains from this house because once I’m unpacked, I’m here for good.

Finally, my #1 parenting life lesson…

Beware the Know-it-All mommy.

At work, in the community park, at the grocery store - they’re out there and they’re dying to give you unwanted advice. According to these women whatever you think you know about your kid is all wrong. These mommy’s possess a superior grasp of the subtle nuances of effective parenting and they feel compelled to share this information with you - whether you want to hear it or not. They are always the ones who have read every book by every expert and are capable of spouting loads of supposedly authoritative facts and advice at you while having formed no actual opinions or insights for themselves.

The Know-it-Alls are not the middle of the road moms; these women are all about extremes. I’ve found that they’re either incredibly uptight about their kids’ or they’re far too laid back. 

A former co-worker (a high-strung know-it-all mommy) actually told me that her two year old daughter’s tantrums were signs that she’s neurotic and she’s having her seen by a therapist.  Now, I don’t know this woman’s daughter but the few times I have met her she seemed like a typical 2 year old girl to me.  None of the outbursts her mother has described to me sound like anything other than ordinary terrible twos behavior.  I think her mother labeling HER as neurotic is a little like the pot calling the kettle black.

Another mom I met in the local park was the exact opposite of neurotic know-it-all mommy.  This woman was granola-loving, spacey, all organic fibers kinda’ know-it-all mommy.  The first words out of her mouth to me were, “Do your children drink milk from the grocery store?”  Then she shared with me how once a month, she and her equally nutty neighbor book a sitter for the day and drive her Prius to the middle of nowhere Pennsylvania to buy unpasteurized dairy products from an organic farmer. She schleps her dairy products home and then freezes them for the kids, all in an effort to avoid having her children drink anything that’s been “altered”.   Meanwhile, as she’s telling me about how store-bought dairy products will destroy my childrens’ livers and stunt their growth, she allows her son to throw rocks at the other kids on the playground. When I point out to her that she might want to intervene with the stoning, she tells me that she’d like to but she can’t because she wants him to learn to deal internally with his own feels of conflict. Of course since it’s my kid who’s become the target of his rock throwing, I’d prefer that his mother guide him through the process externally and immediately.

Because, while I may not know it all,  I do know that allowing your kid to put out another kid’s eye in the name of self-exploration is bad.

Coming in at #2 on my list of parenting life lessons…

Remember how your family used to make a big deal out of your every little accomplishment? Yeah well, now that you’re a parent you’re irrelevant.

When I last spoke with my mother it was about the possibility of her coming for a visit in the summer. She responded with an enthusiastic, “I’d LOVE to spend some time with my grandbabies!” No mention of spending time with ME - her only daughter. I didn’t even merit an honorable mention like, “…oh, and you, too.” Somewhere along the way, I have become yesterday’s news.

For Dick, his relevancy meter started heading into dark territory as soon as word of my pregnancy spread. Meeting my in-laws in Vegas during my 1st trimester with Adam, I was the center of attention with loving belly rubs, hugs, kisses and generous rations of baby-friendly snacks all coming my way. Meanwhile, Dick was given a passing glance and a quick smile, the unstated message from his family being, “Good job knocking her up. You can move out of our way now.” Suddenly, Dick was barely a blip on the paternal radar.

When Adam came along, I expected that some residual relevancy would still cling to me as the mother of the new baby. I knew my importance was on the decline, but I refused to admit the truth. The truth was harsh. Grandparents semed to view me strictly as a hollow vessel. With a soft, pink baby there to cuddle and coo over I might just as well have been a servant lurking in the shadows, only there to silently serve the needs of his majesty every 45 minutes to an hour. Inside my head, I was like - What about me? I just gave birth here - had an emergency c-section even. Where’s my pat on the back for surviving 5 months of daily puking followed promptly by 4 months of being subjected to constant kicks to my bladder? 

The initial descent into irrelevancy is steep and harsh.  I’d like to say that our status has gradually recovered some of its lost respectability since Adam was born, but that’d be a big, fat lie.  As the children become more like little people, their allure grows while ours continues to decline.   The only consolation Dick and I have is that, while our relevancy may be in the toilet with our families, we seem to have a devoted fan base here at home.  Adam and Tabitha may be little, but I know when they see me approaching after a solo grocery run or an evening out, the greeting I receive from them is nothing short of frenzied enthusiasm. 

As the kids get older, I suspect my meter will dip back into negative territory so I’m going to enjoy their attention while it lasts.  I’ll take comfort in knowing that at least Dick and I aren’t alone in the discard pile - we have each other - and like misery, irrelevancy loves company.