…sidetrack

LaGoon Utah, 2008. This ride was closed for repair while we were there. They were filling the cars repeatedly with employees to test it and see if it was ready to open to the public. Talk about hazard pay!!!

Journal,
I look forward to a momentary break in the craziness of life, something like the sidetrack on the roller coaster—the calm straight section of the ride that grants a momentary pause in the ups and downs. This diverts the rider’s mind from the nasty vertical spin.
After the gut wrenching chaos, the switch over to the sidetrack can stabilize things and once again all can be well with the world… at least until the next slide. T

I’d like to think that the answer to, "Why me?" is not always "Why not you?" I like to think that I am involved in this constant upheaval of parenting because I’m so good at it, but the bottom line is that you don’t have to be "good" to be a parent nowadays, you just have to be willing to attempt it.

Journal,
Confuse and confound is a successful parenting tactic. I distract the two-year old during the immunization visit and confuse him when at four, I attempt to answer his myriad of questions.

At six he is easily redirected when he wakes from a nightmare. At ten, I can still mystify him when I bombard him with intricate and valid excuses to his querulous “why-nots?”

Why is it then, that I sit back baffled as the teenager demonstrates how well he has mastered any and all of these sidetracking techniques?

If you can’t be good at it, at least be good at the deluding yourself that you are good at it. I am good at being a parent, if being a parent means being a professional manipulator—the side tracker or the spinner…

I'm the best!

I am a professional side tracker. It is a tactic that I acquired and perfected early as I pinched the child on the left thigh at the same time as the nurse administered the shot from the right. By the time he/she/it had discovered what was going on and responded, it was too late and the trauma was all over.

But, I didn’t realize how good I was until the daughter called yesterday. She was babysitting for the neighbors and she began the conversation with, “I’m going to be a great Mom and I owe it all to you.”

My mind leapt. After all, doesn’t one strive all one’s life for that, “Thank you for teaching me…” call?

She continued, “I’m a great manipulator.”

My mind blanked out and I mumbled the standard response to parental shock, “Would you care to expound?” while I got my mind around the true and immediate response, “I-can’t- believe-you-meant-that,” “What-are-you-thinking,” and “What-have-I-created?”

She continued, “It was time to leave the swimming pool and when the children balked and they insisted that they stay, I responded, ‘That’s fine, I’m sure they have somewhere you can sleep.’”
“Then, Mom, I started packing up and looking around. Then I said thoughtfully, ‘Maybe the showers? You could sleep in the showers, but I don’t know where you would eat?" As I continued to pack, I went on, "They probably turn off all the lights and go home, so probably there wouldn’t be food, or a nightlight… or anything.’”

She gushed onward, “Wow, Mom, by the time I finished, I was out by the car and the three of them were buckled up, inside and ready to go.” “Am I good or what?”

Yeah I guess so. I guess it’s okay to outline the simple and natural consequences in such a clear and logical way. But manipulation… is that what it was?

Reality Bite: And 'til now I thought I was so subtle.