06/15/2005 - 8:14 a.m.
ICE CREAM
It is an age-old curse: "May you grow up to have children like you." Upon watching my brother in action, my grandmother once apologized to my father for thinking it. Let's hope my mother, who will be observing my household in a day or so, is similarly moved. Let's hope she can be magnanimous. In at least one aspect, I have grown up to have a child like me.
As my mother did when I was a teenager, I get up early and I am ready for bed early. Generally, by 9:00 p.m. or so, my mind is shutting down. I want peace and quiet. I'm lethargic. I am winding down and will be until I go to bed around 10. She wanted the same things I want but she had a teenager who interfered: me. Now it is my turn.
Almost every night, sometime between 9:30 and 10:00, comes what I privately think of as the 10:00 dump. Day can be having a wonderful day. She can be cheerful and fun and lovely and happy. She can be full of exciting tales of friends and boys and music and other amusements. But then comes the dump. All of a sudden, just when I want to drift off, comes the problem of the day. Some days, it is merely a rash which has been bothering her for days, just days, and she does not know what to do about it. She needs her mother to examine it and she needs her mother NOW. So I drag myself off the couch, go into the privacy of her room, and look at this medical wonder.
Other days are more difficult. Other days it is a relationship problem of some kind that has been bothering her for days and days. It may be a girl who is treating her badly or fussing over a boy. It may be a teacher who has said something too harsh or people who have been ignoring her. (Yes, Day, B is moody. That's the way it has been all year.) These days require not just listening but summoning up the energy to respond appropriately.
The past few days I have launched a pre-emptive strike. The most effective pre-emptive strike, of course, would be going to bed earlier. But I would feel like such a bad mother. So I have taken another tack. I have found the way to get Day to talk earlier in the day---and there is a way: ice cream.
Day does her best talking over ice cream at Baskin-Robbins. Unfortunately, ice cream everyday is not a very good option. But it is a stressful week for her because it's finals week and sometimes you do what you have to do to survive.
So it's ice cream yesterday, ice cream tomorrow, and probably ice cream today.
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Copyright 2006 by Ellen |
