Too Old For This

1:34, 2:18, 3:04, 3:41, 4:00, … This is not a bus schedule, a list of bible sections, or available time slots to have the cable guy come. No, these are the times that BR woke me on Saturday night.

I stopped at 4:00 not because he finally fell asleep. No, I stopped then because I finally got up, told my wife to try and sleep, and I took over trying to get BR back to sleep. I picked out one of his library books, Benjamin Franklinstein Lives by Matthew McElligott, and began reading. Fifty pages later and he was … declaring it morning and time to get up. You thought I was going to say he fell asleep – didn’t you? Oh how I wish you were right!

No luck. One of the blogs I follow is Being Mummy (www.elskenewman.com). One topic that the blogger has written a lot about is the difficulties she and her husband are having getting their child into a good sleep pattern. The baby has been giving them long sleepless nights. I’ve left comments saying, “Good luck, been there, be strong, it will happen eventually, enjoy your 80 ounces of coffee,” etc. While reading the blog and writing the comments, I have felt great relief: Thank G-d my children are past that stage!

After all, my boys are 8 and 5.5. They are way past the up-all-night stage. (The first time BR slept through the night, I told colleagues at work the next day that I had never loved him more.) Sure, I know there is the occasional illness, anxiety, or excitement that may awaken or keep the boys awake a bit – maybe an hour. Nothing a book or lying next to them could not cure. What you may be wondering caused me to be soooooo wrong on Saturday night?

Well, on Sunday morning, BR and I were scheduled to be on the 9:48 a.m. train out of Radburn with our final destination being Trenton, NJ. At Trenton, my Mom was picking him to spend a few days at her condo. We’ll be driving down on Thursday night. This is the longest – by far – that he will be away from us.

How excited is he? And quote.

“Tomorrow will be the second best day of my life.”

“So, you are not coming with me? Or Dad?”

“Of course, I can behave – SJ won’t be there.”

“I’ll only miss you a little bit.”

“You’re not coming with me, right?

 

So, my parenting expertise gained from years in said role tells me he is ready for this experience. Duuuh.

I’m happy he is excited to spend time with his grandmother. I’m happy he is ready for some independence. I’m happy he is maturing.  Before his next getaway, though, I’ll be spiking his milk and cookies. I need my sleep!

Stretching My Memory

Me: I went roller skating with my friends.

Grandfather: I haven’t done that in 60 years.

Me: Then we went to the movies.

Grandfather: I haven’t done that in 20 years.

Me: Then we had a snowball fight.

Grandfather: I haven’t done that in 50 years.

As a child, I had many such conversations with my grandfather. It seemed whatever I told him, he had not done in some amount of years which were impossible to conceive for a nine year old boy. It was as if time had frozen for him about 20 years before. To be fair to him, he did spend his days taking care of my grandmother after she had a second stroke which proved debilitating. However, I could not conceive of 20 years let alone 60 years passing.

My birthday passed earlier this week. I am at the age where the celebrations are low key except when you get to a number that ends with zero. Anyway, my memory is stretching back further and further. Recently, my mother mentioned a plate that I made in kindergarten. On the plate, I traced my hands and wrote the year – 1977. That was 35 years ago, and I remember making it and seeing it in our kitchen underneath the hanging cabinet and next to the yellow flowered shape clock. I remember going on an airplane for the first time – 31 years ago. I remember my first time driving a car myself – 25 years ago. I remember moving out of my parent’s house (for the last time) – 17 years ago. I remember when my father passed away – 15 years ago. I remember when I got married – 10 years ago. Strangely enough, there are days when I can’t remember what pre-children life was like, but that’s another story.

This summer, marks the 20th anniversary of a significant event in my life. In July of 1992, I completed college, boarded a plane, and began a string of traveling summers. For a kid who had rarely left Pennsylvania, my world truly grew. I met people who were just like me and yet so different. I saw places that before seemed to exist just in books or movies. I experienced cultures which made me curious and empowered me to both question and more appreciate my own. You could say that I found myself via my travels to the Middle East, Europe, and the West Coast of America.

So, as I blow out the birthday candles on another year, I stretch my memory a little further. I appreciate the people in my life now as well as in the past. I consider my experiences and how they have shaped me. I look forward to another year and wonder what I will take from it to share when I am the grandfather.

It’s Not the Caffeine

Mrs. O’Donnell: Do you want some tea?

Me: No thanks.

Mrs. O’Donnell: Do you want some coffee?

Me: No thanks.

Mrs. O’Donnell: What do you drink in the morning?

This conversation took place in a small English town – Elsemere Port circa 1993.  My friend’s mother was doing her best to be a hostess – doesn’t everybody want caffeine? Well, I was just a confusing American who was content with some juice.

Odd me, I am one of those people who does not enjoy caffeine in the morning. However, we all know people who need caffeine in the morning. My wife springs to mind. You don’t want to get in her way before she gets her caffeine buzz. This reasonable decent woman is replaced by a cranky snippy thing who must be tiptoed around. Enough about this alternative personality, I don’t want to think about it.

BR, my older son, is very bright. He is sensitive. He is caring. He is silly. Now, most of the time my boys are friends with the same odd sense of humor.  Yes, of course they get into fights like brothers do – take it from someone who has three older brothers. The mornings, in particular, are difficult as the boys seem to be unable to coexist during this time of the day.  In fact, my wife typically keeps the children in separate rooms so some form of tranquility can exist. While SY can be content to completely zone out watching whatever – really whatever is on television, BR is off the wall.

You may be wondering why BR is so challenging in the morning.  No, my 8 year-old does not have a caffeine addiction. He has ADHD (emphasis on the H in his case) which affects people in different ways and often works in tandem with other issues. In the morning before his medicine kicks in, I imagine his brain as being incapable of handling all the stimuli. Therefore, his morning actions which are often unreasonable are practically out of his control. He hears my wife and I and even his little brother attempting to disciple, calm, and placate him but does not seem capable of acting upon those requests.

Once the medicine kicks in, BR’s positive traits noted above are more readily apparent. He can still be challenging, as boys his age can be, and has his challenges. So, my wife and I strive to recognize his needs and what will work to enable him to utilize his positive traits and fulfill his tremendous potential.  Unfortunately, it’s not as simple as caffeine.

Tradition!

Tradition! (Writer’s Note – that first word should have been sung out – even if only in your head – akin to Fiddler on the Roof.  As it will reappear, make sure to follow this instruction as it will enhance your enjoyment of this post.  Thank you – the writer). We all have traditions weather the topic is family, food, entertainment, holidays, or singing out 1111 when it is 11:11. Something has taken on enhanced meaning because we have done it before and get some comfort or joy from the act. The behavior has become a tradition.

Today is Friday – (blog and calendar all for one low, low price), and I recently started a tradition. By the way, generally when I think of a tradition, I conjure something that’s been going on for years. The picture is black and white and grainy and includes people who are no longer young. Well, traditions have to start sometime. This tradition is a personal – not shared. The reason I bring this up today is because I am in a quandary: Do I let the tradition go by the wayside, or do I continue it?

I loooove chocolate! Now, it is not the only food I am passionate about, (pizza and peanut butter quickly spring to mind) but it truly holds a special place in my heart.  I am nearly convinced that chocolate can solve most problems – warm, cold, tired, or sad. Chocolate can do it all! It comes in so many different forms.  Magical stuff that chocolate is.

Now back to my tradition. The past few months I have taken to buying a chocolate bar for my ride home from work on Friday. I buy it before the first leg of my journey. The chocolate bar – Kit Kat, Peanut M&M, Snickers, Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups Hershey’s Chocolate bar – whatever (I’m flexible – any will do) accompanies me on my 35 minute train ride, walk through NY Port Authority, and on to the 164 bus. As I near the end of my bus ride, I take out my chocolate bar and eat it slowly, savoring each bite. It is my good bye to the week’s stresses, and my hello to the weekend. It is divine.

Now, school is over. Summer is not so stressful, and I don’t take the bus and train. Do I need the chocolate? This morning while food shopping, I decided. I will be having my candy bar later today. The tradition must live on through the summer. Tradition!