Boats and Bugs

It's been kind of a weird summer. Let's face it - history is not always enjoyable when you're forced to actually live through it - and these last almost 9 months have been doozies. Generally, summer is one of my favorite times of year - I don't mind heat and used to always associate summer with softball, camping, and fishing (Seriously, how could my parents not have known I was gay?!) One of the joys of the last few summers before this one was watching Mom be able to forget the sickness in her body while she floated around the pool. It was definitely one of her happiest places. No matter what her body had put her through - cancer, hip surgeries, you name it - her main concern and first question was when could she get back in the water.  So, yeah, it's been weird not seeing Mom enjoying the pool and I've really missed having her on the boat.

Around about the time Ellie and I were turning 50, I passed Action Marine in Holyoke and noticed they had pontoon boats for sale. I literally knew nothing about owning or piloting (captaining? Sailing?) a pontoon boat, but when did that ever stop me? I promptly went home and had the following conversation with my lovely wife:

Me: Hey - have you ever thought about owning a boat?

Ellie: A boat? Like a boat on the water?

Me: Well that is where they're generally found. 

Ellie: A double kayak could be fun, I guess. 

Me: ...

(In our marriage, double kayak is code for "holy shit, we should never do this again because we have extremely different methods of managing a self-propelled boat)

Ellie: oh right, we don't say those words

Me: No, like a boat that we could all go in as a family. 

Ellie: Oh, like a barge?

Me: yes, I thought a nice garbage barge would be a good fit for our family activities. 

Ellie: like a dumpster?  I'm sorry, not following. 

Me: A pontoon boat that we could dock in a marina and use whenever we want with the kids, family, friends, dogs, etc.

Ellie: A harpoon boat - that seems extreme. How big are the fish, which I'll remind you, you don't even eat, in the CT river?

Me: P-O-N-T-O-O-N

Ellie: Oh! A balloon boat - I've never seen one.

And that, my friends, is how we figured out that Ellie had some hearing loss.

However, I digress - I quickly informed her that even though neither of us knew anything about boats, we had an appointment in an hour to go see a used pontoon boat. She responded "Oh, I thought that movie (Platoon) was pretty violent and gory. Is it back in theaters?" Pro tip: if your significant other has some mild hearing difficulties, it is NOT advisable to silently mouth words and make her think that she's lost all of her hearing. Follow me for more marriage advice.

In any case, we did the thing - bought our 1st boat and put it into a marina nearby. Absolutely no one was happier about this purchase than my mom. Quite often, we'd spend a day on the boat, soaking up lots of vitamin D and enjoying the wildlife. And by enjoying the wildlife, I mean Mom trying to take a photo of the egrets and herons- and always ending up with a blurry blob- likely from hitting the phone with increasing force to "make the phone work better."  

Our last boat ride with Mom was not the best. Pretty far down the river and about 15 mins at a good speed away from the marina, our boat had a problem and I could only limp it in by easing it ever so slightly into gear and praying. Unfortunately, one of the cons of a pontoon boat is that other boats' wakes can make your boat rock back and forth -  a lot- and especially when you're not moving at speed. That, and the lack of a breeze, conspired to create a pretty rough ride back in for mom. At one point, she had to hang over the side of the boat while yelling loudly "I'm fine" due to nausea. It was at that point that Ellie asked me if she should get out of the boat and pull us in because it seemed that might be faster. 

We eventually made it in and took the boat almost all the way to the shore so that mom could get to the car and cool off. Despite that experience, she asked me later that day if we could go out the next day. It rained so we didn't but she made me promise that "Puke Fest" would not be her last ride. I wasn't able to keep that promise but you'll remember that she showed up on our cruise in April. She was nothing, if not determined. We have been agonizing about whether or not we should sell the boat over this summer. We sometimes feel guilty about not using it enough and the kids have mostly lost interest. However, when we went out yesterday, a dragonfly buzzed our boat several times. They were also present in abundance when we went to York Beach and also at Tanglewood. More on that in a moment.

Whether it was true or not that my mom was communicating with us on the cruise, it brought me great comfort - and some laughter. I wondered aloud if she was really letting me know she was proud of me or actually saying "Great, you've moved on already" with her somewhat characteristic snark. Either way, it challenged my extremely concrete beliefs and I find myself looking for signs from her everywhere. So, I took the dragonflies' presence as a sign that she was letting me know she was there- and maybe just a touch of a warning to not sell the boat or else - lest she need to sent a plague of locusts. 

I like to think Mom is watching over me and mine, and I truly believe she is. I also know that it could potentially become a haunting rather than a benevolent visitation were I ever to do something she didn't want me to. And, that's ok - and exactly what my own kids have to look forward to from me. When we memorialized my mom in February, we deliberately talked about things like her legacy and the metaphysics of death rather than a religious angle. As she would say, and loudly, "I have my own relationship with God and it's nobody else's business." I do wish she'd said that with just a tad less anger when she spoke to the poor hospital chaplain, but Mom was in a hospital bed and away from her beloved pool and boat - and she was NOT having it! Despite her lack of formal religion, she was spiritual, and obviously, she had enough juice up there to find a medium on a cruise in the middle of the ocean and harangue her into communicating with me. So, no - we won't be selling the boat this year - and if there are any weird occurrences like locusts, killer bee invasions, or bird swarming, I'm going on record that it's one of y'all's faults because I know better!

Life in Isolation - Day 9001

Remember those long days at work when you thought to yourself "I just really want to be at home." We couldn't understand why our bosses required us to come in to work EVERY. SINGLE. DAY. We could do our jobs at home - it would be awesome! You could join a Zoom call wearing a shirt only, make your own stinky food for lunch (yes, Karen, that’s about you) with no one around to complain, go to the bathroom any damn time of the day, even during a meeting!  It would be grand!  Until it wasn't... Now, it doesn't seem so great, does it?  People we thought of as annoying co-workers are now those we look forward to seeing fumbling around Zoom and accidentally turning themselves into potatoes. Now you're home and so is everyone you live with - your kids, your partner, your siblings, your parents, EVERYBODY!!  And it is decidedly not fun all the time.

It's not any different in our home, despite the fact that I've worked from home for the last 4 years.  I'm a work-at-home ninja now shut in with rookies - and it's not pretty. For context, my beautiful wife, E, is a special ed teacher who works at a behavioral school. CAPD Boy is home from college, finishing his senior year Zooming in his room. My mother and sister live downstairs and then the remaining kids live in our other house - ADHD Girl with her fiance, Ninja Chef, and BP Boy with his dog, Shado. Lastly, NLD Girl is living with her boyfriend. Here's but a sampling of the "fun" we're experiencing.

E: BP Boy's on the phone

Me: Hey, what's up?

BP Boy: Is the gym open yet?

Me: No, it won't be open until they're sure that you can't catch the virus.

BP Boy: ok, but the virus is invisible and we can’t see it, right?

Me: True

BP Boy: so if we can’t see it, do we really know for a fact that it can see us?

Me: Well, viruses don’t have eyes, #1, and c, viruses don’t travel, people do.

BP Boy: So, you’re saying that the gym could be open

Me:  No, I’m not saying that.

BP Boy: But you just said that the virus doesn’t travel, so couldn’t people just leave it at home?

Me: No, that’s not how this works.

BP Boy: Well, what if I wear camo workout clothes?

Me: Again, the virus can’t see you.

BP Boy:  Good, then we agree, the point makes itself.

Me: ...

Let it not be said that I’ve done anything close to an adequate job of educating my kids about pandemics...

10 minutes later...

Text exchange with Mom -

Mom: Is the Instacart order coming today?

Me: Yes

Mom: How much do I owe?

Me: We won’t know until they’re done shopping - some things may not be in stock.

Mom: How do they know what we want?

Me: We placed an order, remember?

Mom: So, are you going to pick it up?

Me: No, they will be delivering it.

Sister: But how do they know what we want?

Me:  Please see above.

Mom: Did you order the paper plates?

Me: Yes.

Mom: In all 17 sizes?

Me: Yes, but I have to ask, what are they for?

Mom:  For the barbecue.

Me: Ummmm, we’re in isolation, there’s not going to be a barbecue.

Mom: You don’t know that. We’ll have one eventually.

Me: True, but by that time, we will be able to go to the store and buy paper plates.

Mom: It doesn’t hurt to be prepared.

Me: I guess not.

Mom: Well, with that attitude the Instacart guy will never get the right plates.

Me: You think the shopper can tell my attitude about paper plates and will deprioritize them accordingly?

Mom: Yes.  I do...

Here’s the thing, as I said, I’ve worked from home, or while traveling, for the last 4 or so years. Of course, right now, I’m doing less actual work (#furloughed) and more home...with everyone...and they’re not used to any of it. CAPD Boy is having senioritis from his bedroom and my lovely wife is zooming on her IPad all day. I love them all to death but there are just so many questions! “What’s for dinner?” “Are you on the phone?” “When were the dogs out last?” Why are you crying and banging your head against the wall?” “Are you still watching (Tiger King)?” Yes, Netflix - stop judging me! You know, typical work at home questions...

Of course, when you reframe this all positively, it becomes clear - we will miss this level of connection when it’s gone. That’s what we do as humans. We will misremember it and think about how cool it was to be forced  lucky enough to have all this torture extra time with our loved ones. It’s important that we stay home to flatten the curve and do our part to keep the virus and its effects from overwhelming the healthcare system. And think of the life lessons we’ll have learned - such as:

• 15 cups of coffee daily is not incompatible with human life 
• You can run out of things to watch on Netflix.
• Toilet paper can be currency.
• sweatpants are business casual.
• It turns out you can fit exercise into your day (damnit!)

If that’s not enough of an incentive to stick it out and do your part to save the world, consider this your formal invitation to the cookout (not you, Karen - no one wants tilapia at a barbecue). 

Diary of a Christmas Tree in the Wonderdyke Household

Dec 15- It appears that I have been adopted by a rather masculine woman and her partner. It has not started off on the best foot as I'm currently tied to the roof of their Subaru. I am holding on tight but the she-man has decided to take a shortcut. I don't even think we are on a road.

Dec 16 - After a freezing night in a bucket on the porch, I have finally been brought into my new home. There are several furry creatures who are very fixated on me and sniff under my branches, which I find rather rude. She-man and the Other have put me in something called a "f*cking piece of crap tree stand" which seemed to involve a lot of loud talking.

Dec 17- Apparently my beautiful mantle of green needles is not enough as She-man and the Other have wrapped me in lights.  There has been a LOT of discussion about the proper application of said lights. I think we all lost in that argument.

Dec 18 - One of the furry creatures has knocked me sideways while the people were gone. She-man was none too pleased when s/he arrived home. Tonight is apparently special as there is music playing and the people are hanging things on my branches. I heard the Other say that some of the things were made by "children" which I can only assume means people with no artistic talent whatsoever .

Dec 19-  I'm beginning to get concerned about my new home. I have been here five days, most of it without sustenance. I have begun to drop razor-sharp needles in the hopes of exacting revenge should the people ever remove their Birkenstocks.

Dec 20-  My people have finally given me water. I am unsure how long it will last because the furry ones keep drinking from the "piece of crap tree stand." I am plotting my escape.

Dec 21- My prison break was unsuccessful. Alas, it appears I have no feet nor opposable thumbs. I am working on shooting my needles into their eyes.

Dec 22- A strange development overnight- the people have adopted a much smaller version of me and it has been placed on something called a table. I am working on a new plan to overwhelm our people now that I am no longer outnumbered.

Dec 23- I'm fairly certain that the small tree is a double agent. The people have become much more attentive suddenly and have placed millions of wrapped boxes at my feet. I fear my trust has been betrayed.

Dec 24 - Apparently, this is a special night. The people have been preparing all day for something called "Christmas Eve".  She-man appears to have absolutely no idea how to wrap a box. I am fairly certain that the furry creatures could have done a better job. There are many more people here tonight, including one who might be a giant - he's almost as tall as me.  I have received no sustenance in 5 days so I'm trying to lure the tall one close enough to stab him with my star and draw a little attention to myself.

Dec 25 - I am now convinced that the humans are taunting me. First they pile colorful boxes at my trunk and then they rip them open within 10 minutes. They are dangling freedom in front of me. I believe I have convinced the furry creatures to help me stage a coup. It should not be hard. She-man and the others seem to have eaten themselves into a stupor. There is so much snoring, I'm certain my escape through the glass door won't be noticed.

Dec 26 - It turns out the furry creatures are real assholes. They led me to believe they'd help me yet they didn't even know how to open the door. They are now my sworn enemies.

Dec 27 - Revenge is mine. She-man stepped on one of my needles today and I think s/he's crippled. I imbued the needle with my most negative intentions so I'm hopeful s/he only has hours to live.

Dec 28- She-man seems fine. I think my powers must be weakened from lack of sustenance. The Other seems to have taken pity on me and is removing the lights and glittery things from my branches. She seems upset as She-man "could help take the tree apart, too - this is not how I saw my life going" has been said several times over the last half hour. I think I will be freed soon.

Dec 29- Freedom is so close, I can taste it. I have been removed from the Piece of Shit Tree Stand and am now able to gaze into the back yard. I hadn't realized that we are not at ground level until now. I am sure that won't be a problem.

Dec 30- I am broken, and not only in spirit. Last night, under the cloak of darkness, She-man THREW me off the porch. I have lost most of my needles and was subsequently dragged to the curb. There are new furry creatures out here - I think I've forged some alliances. She-man will die.

Dec 31- I have devised a plan to move back to the forest. Squirrel #1 seems pretty certain he and 1000 of his friends can carry me across the street. I am awaiting their return. In the meantime, there is a large orange thing on wheels with the letters R-E-C-Y-C-L-I-N-G on the side approaching me. I'm sure it's nothing to worry about.

Merry Christmas to All!!  Xoxo 🎄🎄🎄

Toast? At a Wedding?

Welcome to everyone and thank you all for coming to help celebrate the marriage of NLD Girl and Dungeon Master.   NLD Girl and I came into each other’s lives at the turn of the century.  She was a young only child and I was a devastatingly beautiful 35 year old woman as I’m sure you can tell from how well I’ve aged.  Little did NLD Girl know that she was about to be part of a blended family with three younger siblings.  However, as I watched her throw ice cream at the ceiling fan one day, I felt pretty sure that she’d adjust relatively well.  

It is an interesting thing to come into a mother- daughter relationship that had such an obviously strong bond.  Every night before NLD Girl went to bed, she would come to the top of the stairs and say to E “don’t forget” to which E would reply “I won’t.”  I assumed for years that it was a sweet shared ritual that had special meaning to the two of them.  It seemed magical and I missed it on the nights when NLD Girl was at her dad’s. At one point, I finally asked E what it was all about and what she was supposed to remember and I’ll never forget the four words E said – “I have no idea.”  

So, obviously, there was quite a high bar for me to hurdle in becoming part of the parenting army that surrounded NLD Girl.  We developed a patter between us, a solid bond built of trust and caring.  In fact, NLD Girl would often come to me with a minor ailment or injury and ask me to reassure as to what disease was most likely indicated.  She would show me a rash on her arm or a bump on her hand and I would calmly tell her that it was most likely leprosy - she would run right up to bed with tears of what I’m sure to this day were joy.  I’m sure those are fond memories for her as they are for me.

NLD Girl met Dungeon Master several years ago and we thought he was going to be yet another one of the bearded sci-fi types she seemed so fond of.  Boy, were we wrong, he also wore glasses.  We noticed right away that this was something special and different.  So, in preparation for today, it was really important to me that I find the right thing to say or do.  I’d considered doing an interpretive river dance – but come on, that would have really upstaged the bride and groom.  I tried to come up with a song to express my thoughts or a poem my innermost feelings – but to no avail.  Instead, I turned to my father’s favorite poet, Ogden Nash.  For those of you not familiar with his work, he is responsible for some of the romantic literary gems of our lifetimes.  For example, one of his odes to love goes like this:  Fleas – Adam had’m.  Or better yet, the Termite. Some primal termite knocked on wood, and tasted it and found it good.  And that is why your cousin May fell through the parlor floor today.  

Those did not really seem to do the trick but I finally found one that would work:

To keep your marriage brimming, 

With love in the loving cup

Whenever you’re wrong, admit it;

Whenever you’re right, shut up.

Seriously though, I did find a quote elsewhere that speaks perfectly to today.  The universe only pretends to be made of matter.  Secretly, it is made of love.  Today, this is your universe and it is made entirely of love. We as a group, as a huge new family, have come together today to show our love for, and celebrate the love of NLD Girl  and Dungeon Master.  This room is full of love for the two of you who are not only husband and wife, but also best friends.  Elie Wiesel said that friendship marks a life even more deeply than love.  How wonderful that the two of you have both.  Hopefully as you walk your path together, you'll remember a balance of the trivia and vital that makes up a good marriage, and forget the occasional misstep, because in the end, it's all trivial as long as you have each other.  On behalf of my family, I just want to welcome Dungeon Master to the family, we are so very happy for both of you.  

,

And Then There Were Three

NLD Girl - this one's for you...

Anyone who's seen E or me over the last two weeks knows that we're competing in Survivor- Wedding Edition.  It's a relatively small field and we've created a few alliances, so I think we're real contenders to stay on the island...

Yes, it's true - our oldest, NLD Girl will tie the proverbial knot this weekend.  Many of you know the anxiety a parent feels when faced with the prospect of a daughter's fiancé.  Will he be a toad or a prince?  Will he be a strong partner who treats our daughter with love and respect?  Will he worship me as the true Amazon goddess that I am?  Just like with babies, we don't care what gender they bring home, we just want the relationship to be healthy.  In this regard, we've struck gold - or, to put it in language our future son-in-law will understand, it's as if we were halflings traveling through the forgotten realm of Faerun and have stumbled upon a dragon's hoard.  Yes, this is the part of the story where the boy who has no name is hereby christened DungeonMaster (insert your own trumpet fanfare here).

So, back to the wedding - it's hard to believe that E and I have reached that time in our lives.  It seems especially hard for E to believe it - or at least remember it - to wit:

Me:  Have you decided what you're wearing to the wedding?

E:  What wedding?

Me:  The Red Wedding - no, the wedding of our oldest, remember?  It's this Sunday?

E:  Ooohhh, can you believe she's finally getting married?  Do you remember that time with the thing when she did that thing at the thing?

Me:  Do you mean the time you asked her to mash a banana with a fork for banana bread and she tried to do it without peeling it?

E:  Of course, I just said that - why are you repeating what I say?

Me:  Yes, I remember that.  I also remember having to send her to bed dressed for the next day of school because she was virtually impossible to get out of bed.  We were worried about her getting through high school and here she is, a college-educated woman with a real job.

E:  Right, remember that pink shirt, I loved that pink shirt and the other thing...

Me:  Are you having a mini-stroke?

E:  No just lost in memories.

Me:  Ok, sooooo, back to the wedding.  What are you wearing?

E:  What wedding?

And on and on and on...

It's true, there were times during NLD's childhood when we thought "well, she will probably live with us forever, but we're ok with that.  As long as she's happy and she will be as long as we can figure out a way for the microwave to automatically dispense chicken nuggets at regular intervals, she'll be all set."  However, she challenged all of our pre-conceived notions, and most of our sanity, and turned into a well-adjusted human being, despite our feeble attempts at parenting.  NLD Girl went from having a boyfriend in the second grade (we suspect he was not aware of this status) to finding her life partner in her early twenties.  That's a better track record than either of us can lay claim to.

As I imagine always occurs at this point for the parents of the bride or groom-to-be, there is always some thought as to what the future son/daughter-in-law brings to the family.  In the case of NLD Girl, we know what DungeonMaster's family is getting: a smart, funny, and generous young woman with a lingering fixation on Draco Malfoy who should be kept away from cooking and baking implements at all times.  On our end of things, we are getting an intelligent, witty, and friendly young man with an encyclopedic knowledge of all things Game of Thrones.  I suspect DungeonMaster may know the character and plot points better than George R. R. Martin, himself.  I have read the books so I have a working knowledge of the series in a way that poor E does not.

DM:  Did you watch the episode this week?

E: Yes, it was great - I loved the dragon lady.

DM:  Daenerys?  Yes, she's a Targaryen, the last known living one - she was related to the Maester at Castle Black.

E:  Right - Jon Snow - he was a great Maester.  It's was nice of the Leominsters to raise him for that.

DM:  I think you mean the Starks, and he wasn't the Maester at Castle Black.  He was the Lord Commander.

E:  Right - didn't he have that dog?

DM:  Direwolf - Ghost.

E:  Where?  You saw a ghost?

DM:  No, that's the name of the Direwolf, Ghost.

E:  Ah, why doesn't the dragon lady give the old knight a break?  He has a bad rash on his hand and he's just helping because he used to sleep with the former queen and they had the little person, Cheerios as their son and the girl.

DM:  There are so many things wrong with that sentence...  Which girl?

E:  A girl has no name.

DM:  Arya?

E:  I don't know, she has no name.

DM:  She does, it's Arya.

E:  Well why does she say she has no name?  That's very confusing.

This conversation goes on until DungeonMaster's brain heats up to a dangerous level and one of us typically has to intervene.

But back to the matter at hand, the joining of House Erwin and House Rembrandt.  Our sigils may be different but we are united in one common and important sentiment.  Both houses are unbelievably excited and happy to be coming together and helping our respective charges make this important step.    I believe I can speak for E when I say that we are very proud of you both and can't wait to watch you walk your journey together.  Hopefully, you'll remember a balance of the trivia and vital that makes up a good marriage, and forget the occasional misstep, because in the end, it's all trivial as long as you have each other.

E:  Shit, why didn't you remind me I needed an outfit for the wedding?  It's this weekend!!!

Me:  Sigh.

The Not-So-Empty Nest

All of us with kids eventually bump into that milestone of middle-aged parenthood, the Empty Nest.  This is a time in a parent's life when his/her kids go off to college, get married, get a job, etc, and ostensibly, decide to be independent.  Note my use of the word "ostensibly" - defined as apparently or purportedly, BUT (and there's always a but) perhaps not actually.  Ostensibly as a word is perfectly fine, and its use might even lead the reader to be impressed with the writer's vocabulary.  However, at the same time, it can be a very tricky and misleading word as I will demonstrate.  Ostensibly, Donald Trump's success in the primaries reflect the will of the people - see, if you were unaware of the very important but in the definition, you'd already be in Canada as you read this.

However, I digress.  Some background - my lovely wife, E, and I live in the childhood home in which I was raised.  My mother and sister live on the ground floor and CAPD Boy and ADHD Girl cohabit with us on the upper floors.  ADHD Girl has a long-term boyfriend who also lives with us whom I shall call,  NinjaChef.  E and I also own a home a town over in which BP Boy and NLD Girl live.  NLD Girl has a fiancé named Jason, or as I call him, Jason.  As you see, we have two nests, not one, and none of them empty.

It's important that at this point, I stop and insert a disclaimer having nothing to do with the fact that, with the exception of NLD Girl, our kids are freakishly tall and would have no difficulty suffocating us with our pillows were I to offend them with my musings.  So, let me state categorically that while on the face of it, this is ostensibly a blog post in which I lament the non-emptiness of our nests, it is perhaps not actually what it seems.

For your entertainment and edification, allow me to give you a peek into the typical day in the Wonderdyke household:

545 am - E arises and takes the dogs out for their morning constitutional.  At this point in the morning, she is typically bleary-eyed and may or may not notice anything in her surroundings as she passes through the living room and kitchen.

6 am - I am awakened with a scream.  This could in fact be one of two things - there is a family of foxes living across the street who seem to greatly enjoy screaming at all hours of the night and early morning - at what, I'm not sure.  If you haven't heard a fox scream, it's nothing even remotely like the song.  However, given that the scream seemed to come from our kitchen, it's safe to say that E has seen something that surprised her.

601 am - I trundle out to the kitchen to find NinjaChef in the process of whipping together eggs, bacon, sausage, pancakes, waffles, crepes, doughnuts, bagels, croissants, blintzes, omelets, muffins, breakfast sliders, hash, quiche, fruit salad, cinnamon rolls, and fresh-squeezed orange juice.  I'm slightly exaggerating, but his culinary skill is pretty amazing so it would not at all be surprising.  What has startled poor bleary-eyed E is that NinjaChef was not there when she passed by and seemingly appeared out of nowhere to begin the morning feast.  He has a habit of doing it, so much so that I suspect he may have possession of a Cloak of Invisibility (that sounds awesome if you say it in a deep voice and make it echo - Cloak -oak- oak -oa - o...  Go ahead, try it - I'll wait).  At times, I can actually be standing at the stove and all of a sudden, all 6 ft of NinjaChef is shirring eggs right beside me.  Awesome power, let's hope he uses it for good.

602 am - As I head back to the bedroom, I register the fact that ADHD Girl is on the couch, simultaneously tweeting on her phone, texting on her iPad, and writing a paper on her MacBook while skypeing with a friend and watching TV.   I also notice that she seems to have turned the living room into a classroom with posters about some zoo book along the walls, and the floors and some stuffed animals slowly turning through the air as she's attached them to the ceiling fan.  When I hail her with a hearty "Hey, what the hell is going on here?"  I get back the old fake finger gun and wink with a "Don't worry old lady, it's all under control."  I bristle at her calling E an old lady but decide not to confront her on it.

630 am - It's now time to get CAPD Boy up and out of bed for school  I should say that CAPD Boy is a senior in high school and has already been accepted to college - so high school, in his mind, has pretty much ceased to exist.

Me:  Time to get up for school.

CAPD Boy:  I don't want to go in the pool.

Me: I said school.

CAPD Boy:  Who are you calling a fool?

CAPD stands for central auditory processing disorder - which is a long way of saying that, sometimes, what his ears hear and his brain understands may differ substantially.

Me;  School - high school, remember?

CAPD Boy:  What is this school you speak of?

Me:  High school - remember, the one you need to graduate from in order to go to COLLEGE?

CAPD Boy:  Oh - I'm awake.

Me:  Ok, don't go back to sleep.

CAPD Boy:  I wonnnnnn zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

Me:  Time to get up for school.

CAPD Boy: I don't want to go in the pool.

I'm sure you can imagine the rest.

640 am - My first call from BP Boy

Me:   Hey, what's up?

BP Boy:  I haven't been to sleep - I'm too worried.

Me:  About what?

BP Boy:  It's very serious - I don't think my dog is a morning dog.

Me;  Did you say morning dog?

BP Boy - Yes, I'm really worried about it.  I've watched her sleep all night and she hasn't gotten up yet.

Me:  It's 640 - your damn brother hasn't even gotten up yet.  What difference does it make if your dog likes getting up in the morning or not?

BP Boy - Well, I read on the internet that many dogs like getting up in the morning and she doesn't seem to so....

Me:.......

BP Boy:  Also, I have a question - how many miles is 15000 steps?

Me;  I have no idea - why?

BP Boy:  Amma has challenged me on fitbit and I want to beat her.

Me:  Ok - well I'm sure it says on your fitbit how far you walked.

BP Boy:  I don't have a fitbit.

Me:  Ok, well how will you challenge her then?

BP Boy:  I have a question.

Me:  Yes...

BP Boy:  Do you think it's a problem if my dog isn't a morning dog?

Me: No, not at all.

BP Boy:  I really wish you had just said that at the beginning of the call.  Got to go, the dog's awake.

645 am - I have managed to get myself ready to go to the gym and then work and exit the bedroom.  NinjaChef and ADHD Girl have passed out on the couch as the dogs finish the food on their plates.  CAPD Boy comes flying out of his room with a "Why didn't you wake me for school?" to which I reply - "I don't want to go in the pool."  This was extremely funny to me.  Meanwhile, E is trying to figure out what to take to work for lunch - standing in front of the fridge with a blank stare as if waiting for something to speak to her.

Me:  E, why don't you take the leftover salmon?

E:  Right, the salmon.  Where is that again?

Me:  In the fridge - right hand drawer.

E: (turning away from the fridge without the salmon) OK - hey, did BP Boy call you about the morning dog thing?

Me:  He did - I handled it.

E: The salmon is not in the fridge.

NinjaChef:  No, it's here - I've whipped up some grilled asparagus and twice-baked potato for you to take to work.  It's all in this edible lunchbox I fashioned out of al dente lasagna noodles.

E:  (turns to me)  How the hell does he do that?

650 am - 2nd call of the day from BP Boy

Me:  Hi, what's up?

BP Boy - I have a question.

Me:  Ok, shoot.

BP Boy:  Wait, are you saying shoot because you're mad you answered the phone and have to talk to me?

Me:  No, shoot as in go ahead and ask your question.

BP Boy: ok, just saying because you weren't very happy when I called about how to use the rice cooker.

Me:  Well, it was 3:30 in the morning and I thought it was an emergency.

BP Boy:  It was - the dog wanted some rice.

Me:  How did you know that the dog wanted rice at 330 in the morning?

BP Boy;  We're very much in tune - I could just tell.

Me:  Wait, didn't you say that you were worried that the dog isn't a morning dog?

BP Boy: Yes, why?

Me:  Well, technically, 330 am is in the morning and she was up - and no wonder she doesn't want to get up this morning if you had her up and eating rice in the middle of the night.

BP Boy:  She didn't like the rice.

Me:  Oh.

BP Boy:  I have a question - do you think it's a bad thing if the dog doesn't like rice?

Me:  I have to go.

650 am - I have extricated myself from the kitchen and am heading down the stairs to leave.  CAPD Boy goes rushing by - "Excuse me, have to get to school!"  I get to the car and realize that I've forgotten my own lunch.  As I open the car door to place my gym bag and briefcase inside, I find NinjaChef sitting in the front passenger seat.

NinjaChef:  I think you forgot your lunch.

Me:  Thanks, what is this?

NinjaChef:  I added a few things to the chicken you were planning to bring.  I baked some fresh bread as you started down the stairs and I made your chicken into chicken salad with scallions and dill I hand-chopped and mayonnaise I made from the eggs I harvested from the chicken coop.

Me:  Wait, what?  We don't have chickens.

NinjaChef: Never mind that.  I put it all in an edible lunch bag I made for you out of woven carrots and zucchini strips with marinated and spiced apples as the handles.

Me: Um, thanks.

655 am - 3rd call of the day from BP Boy

Me:  Hi, what's up?

BP Boy:  Nothing, why?

Me:  You called me.

BP Boy:  I did?  Oh, I have a question.

Me:  I thought you might.

BP Boy:  I'm really worried about the dog.

Me:  Really?

BP Boy:  Do you think other dogs like her?

Me:  I'm sure they do, why do you ask?

BP Boy:  Well, I don't think you're right because she doesn't seem to have any friends.

Me:  Well, dogs don't have friends the same way that people do.

BP Boy:  Do you think it's because of the tongue thing?

Me:  What tongue thing?

BP Boy:  Well, I've noticed that when she runs around a lot, she sticks her tongue out a lot.

Me:  That's panting - dogs do it because they don't sweat.

BP Boy:  Oh, ok.  I thought maybe it was some kind of reaction.

Me:  To what?

BP Boy:  Well, she ate a lot of rice this morning.

Me:  i thought you said she didn't like the rice.

BP Boy:  I never said that.

Me:  Ok, have to go to work.  Bye.

7 am - E comes out to the car.  "Do you know if we have any rice?  BP Boy needs some."

NinjaChef:  (appearing out of nowhere)  We have basmati, jasmine, brown, white, wild, short, medium, and long grain rice. I've prepared samples of each and packed them in this edible box made out of plantains, avocados, and cherries.

705 am - I finally get into my car and as I get ready to back out, my mother knocks on the car window.

Me:  Hi, what's up?

Amma:  Hey, do you have any rice?

Me:  Nope, fresh out.

Amma:  Where are you going so early on a Saturday?

Me:  To gym and then to..wait, Saturday?

Amma:  Yup - we're headed to the store.  Need anything?

Me:  Sure, want to pick up some rice?

710 am - I make my way back to bed - phone rings.

Me:  Hey, what's up?

BP Boy:  I have a question.

Me:  Is it about the dog, rice, or panting?

BP Boy:  No, I just wanted to know why you're up so early on a Saturday.

Me:  Aaaaaaagggggghhhhhh!!

715 am - Ostensibly, I'm back in bed for a little nap with no further interruptions, but perhaps not actually...

The Difference

Another one from the Archives ( with a bit of updating from 2015)


The Difference - I must preface my post today by stating that most of it will be written in what my kids refer to as "old fart mode."  I proudly own that mode - not that I'm sure at all when it became available to me as an option - but I will wear it proudly just the same.  I say that at the outset because most of my post today will be devoted to the differences (hence the clever title) between my upbringing in the untamed and dangerous wilds of the 1970s to their existence in the technologically-enhanced 21st century.

First - I must introduce the characters in my little tableau:

E: my lovely yet, occasionally clueless and constantly distractible, wife.
BP Boy - 19, full of chin scraggle, and Bipolar/ADHD
ADHD Girl - self-explanatory - but also 16
CAPD Boy - 14 with central auditory processing disorder - makes communication extra fun
NLD Girl - 21 and sporting nonverbal learning disability - literal to the nth degree.
and the newest addition, Rico Suave - best friend to BP Boy and hails from PR, originally.

So - it's like this.  Kids today have no idea how easy most of them have it.  We were freaking pioneers crossing the prairie and fighting off grizzlies compared to the lives our kids have.  Not only are they unable to fathom our childhoods, they can't believe we survived.  Witness a recent conversation with CAPD Boy:

Me:  Yup, you know, when we were kids, we didn't have cable TV.

CAPD Boy:  You mean, in every room?

Me:  No, I mean at all - we had three channels - four if one of us would sit next to the TV and hold the antenna.

CAPD Boy:  What's an antenna?

Me:  It's a metal rod that made TV reception come in better - or if it didn't, we put foil on it.

CAPD Boy:  Did you all have tin foil hats as well?

Me:  Well, just my sister...but seriously, no cable TV, no remote control, no...

CAPD Boy:  Wait, what?!  How did you turn the TV on and off and change channels?

Me:  We used the buttons.

CAPD Boy:  You had to get up from the couch?

Me:  Yes, but we didn't mind because the couches were super uncomfortable.  Some skinny cushions on a little bit of wood.

CAPD Boy:  Well at least you could watch stuff on Youtube.

Me:  We didn't have Youtube back then.

CAPD Boy:  Why?  Youtube's been around for a long time.

Me:  We didn't have Youtube because we didn't have computers.  The internet didn't exist.

CAPD Boy:  WHOA!!!  Holy Shhh...  I would not have survived that - I seriously would have died...

Think about it - we grew up in the era when we all ate dinner together and you ate what you were served and you finished every bite.  I can remember many painful evenings trying to choke down leek pie or lima beans.  I came home the other day and my kids had installed a drive-thru window in the kitchen, complete with speakers!  I go from my day job to my unpaid evening/night/weekend and all hours job of short-order cook.

How do you find common ground with kids who think that "roughing it" means the Holiday Inn - without continental breakfast?  Vacation with my parents was playing cards on the floor of our rain-soaked canvas tent during a hurricane while they smoked.  We couldn't touch the walls or ceiling of the tent because the rain would soak through.  Boy, those were the days!!  We thought that was normal but our kids would consider it the equivalent of waterboarding.  We rode around crammed into the backseat of a 1973 Renault station wagon with no air conditioning and we were happy, or so our parents told us...

My point is that kids these days don't really appreciate what "difficult" really is.  For example, it was difficult to ride our bikes to swim practice at 6 am every summer morning - both ways uphill, of course - swim for two hours (or flounder, if you're talking about me), and then ride home only to be told to stay outside until dark.  My kids consider having to walk across the room to get the remote a catastrophic event.  When I was in 7th grade, my father took a sabbatical and we spent the year in France  We lived in a small town south of Bordeaux with no phone, no TV, no dryer, and I didn't speak French (at first).  Our house was located at the edge of the butcher's pasture and they sold antivenom for the common local viper in the grocery store.  My four lovely children have a cow when there's a Daddy Long Legs in the bathroom and have text fights about who's going to take care of it (ultimately, Ellie - I hate spiders, too).

So, what is my point exactly?  The point is that there are a lot of differences between the way we all grew up and the way our children are being raised.  If you consider what we actually know now, it's a miracle that most of lived to raise kids at all.  I spent much of my teen years riding to softball games in the back of a pickup truck (I know, lesbian AND softball - hard to imagine!).  That would be enough to generate a visit from DCF these days.  I imagine our kids will go through the same thing with their own children.  An example of a future conversation:

CAPD Man (now a father):  Well son, we used to have these things called smartphones.  We texted and checked social media, and as a last resort, we would make a phone call, but only as a last resort.

Son:  I don't get it, what's a phone call?

CAPD Man:  Well our smartphones each had their own number and you dialed it on the phone and spoke to the person you called.

Son:  What?!!!  You mean you couldn't just send your thoughts the way we all do now?

CAPD Man:  Nope - and we had to buy food at the store and cook it at home.

Son:  Why did you do that?  Didn't your house have robots and computers which provided for your every need?

CAPD Man: Well, we had a robotic vacuum once, but my mom sent it back because it scared the dogs.

Son:  What's a vacuum?

CAPD Man:  Well, it's a... - never mind.  Go program the fooderator for some nachos, would you?

I guess that's the point - we're always going to look like antiquated freaks to our kids - but that's how our parents seemed to us.  No matter how much we pretend to know what twerking and snapchat and Vine is, the truth is that our children only see drooling, doddering fools who are too clueless to find the desktop in Windows 8 and waste our time on The Facebook.  My solution - let them think that and lull them into a false sense of security.  Pretend you don't know how to use your iphone and have them show you something on theirs, thus revealing their super secret password.  Then, change their keyboard shortcuts so that every time they write "love" or "yes" or "WTF", it autocorrects to buttnut.  They will never believe it was you - because you were too busy looking in the mirror trying to find the Bluetooth...

PS - this also works on parents - my mother can't write the word schedule because it autocorrects to "ass monkey" every time.  Nobody puts Baby in a wet canvas tent corner!!