One of my all time favorite movies is Parenthood, starring Steve Martin and Mary Steenburgen. I thought this movie was hilarious even before I had children. Steve Martin is a Dad who tries too hard to make everything right for his family. He has a hard time accepting the rollercoaster ride that comes along with having children. If you are going to be a parent, you had best bring along your sense of humor - and your juggling skills.
Earlier this week, I was on a ROLL. I had Easter goodies bought and stashed in the trunk of the car. Evan needed an Easter hat for a parade. I bought some cheap Easter stuff at the Dollar store, pipe cleaners, colored foam to cut out bunny ears…you get the picture. This had to go to school on Wednesday. I got it all put together and hid it in my room so it wouldn’t get destroyed. I planned to put it on his head on the way out the door to get on the school bus. I wasn’t going to take any chances.
At my job, grade books had to be finalized a few days earlier than anyone anticipated. I was up in the wee hours of Wednesday morning entering the prerequisite comments and making sure everything was logged in. I had an epic amount of corrected papers ready to be returned in my students’ Wednesday folders. It was full-court-press all morning. Then, it was time to get the boys up.
Two boys up, bathed, uniforms on, breakfast on the table. I stood in the kitchen constructing lunches and signing folders. I glanced at the clock: 7:15. Time for me to jump in the shower. I would be out, dressed, combed and made up in time to stick the hat on Evan’s head and greet the school bus outside of our house around 7:40. “I’m good,” I thought, gloating. Everything like clock work, I am Super Mom! I smiled confidently to myself.
“Mooooom,” Ben called into the kitchen.
“Yes, Ben,” I answered, stepping off the podium in my imagination.
“I need to hand in a Science Fair topic,” Ben replied.
“A what? When is that due?” I queried.
“Yesterday.”
Gulp. Ok. Ok. Look at the time. Oh crap. I pull out my 730 Easy Science Experiments book. Flip through; flip through. This is not the science fairs of my youth, when you could crib everything out of the Encyclopedia Britannica. Noooo. You have to have a real, testable hypothesis and plan experiments.
I see a whole section on lemons and conducting electricity with lemons. I show Ben. “Oooh, that looks cool.” Me: “Sure. Sure it does. That’s your project.” Quickly, because it’s easier for me to do it than to help him do it, I type up a few lines explaining his topic and question. Pull the paper from the printer and hand it to him.
I glance back at the clock. It’s really late. 7:25. I consider for a moment foregoing a shower. Then, “No, I just can’t do that. I will be quick.” I jump in with such velocity I cannot say whether I got wet or perhaps the water just evaporated in the wind I created. I jump out. I wrap my towel around myself thinking, “Throw some clothes on, you can do makeup after the bus. Except…..
“MOOOOM!!! THE BUS IS HERE!!!” Ben is yelling. I run down the hallway, in my towel, unlock the door. Now would be a good time to mention that I live on one of the busiest streets in Savannah
The bus driver must have seen me, and my predicament, because she mercifully pulled closer to the curb for the kids. I clung to the doorway watching. Embarrassed. She laughed at me. I couldn’t blame her. I’d laugh, too. Then, as the bus pulled away, I realized in a sudden moment of clarity, that I had forgotten to give Evan his Easter hat!
Super Mom, my aspirations!
Ugggh! I walk in, dig through the recycling bin to find Evan’s class newsletter. “Please let the parade be tomorrow!” I am trying simultaneously to figure out how I could manage to drive all the way to Evan’s school with the hat, if need be. I finally find the newsletter and breathe sigh of relief. The parade is tomorrow. I haven’t ruined my kid’s day again. (Some of you may remember that I sent him to school dressed as an elderly man for the 100th day of school, but I had the wrong day!)
I slapped myself together and ran out the door so that I would be on time. At a red light, I looked at the seat next to me and realized I had left the mountain of papers I had worked on in my house. I slumped down and rested my head on the steering wheel. And then I laughed and laughed. Sometimes you have to laugh so you don’t cry. Being a parent is hilarious. You are either laughing at your self or laughing at your kids.
On the last day of school before break, the boys decided to run outside, still in their uniforms, and spray each other with the hose. They were running back and forth, screaming and yelling. Ok –Ben was doing most of the screaming because Evan had the hose.
“Mom!” ( Ben was banging at the back door.)
“Yes?” I look at Ben and he is in hysterics, drenched to the core.
“Evan soaked me! And now I am peeing my pants,” admits Ben, still laughing.
I have Ben strip down right there, and I give him a towel to quickly wrap up in on the way to the bath. Evan is busy spraying down some dirty toys in the yard. It is about 5 pm. I think, “I can leave him alone for a minute and get Ben in the tub.” So, that is what I do. I start Ben’s bath and he climbs in. Then I return to the back door. I look out expecting to see Evan playing with the hose. And he is. There, in the center of my yard which is clearly visible to all neighbors and anyone –police cruiser or pervert- who may be travelling down the back lane on this bright, sunny late afternoon, is Evan -completely naked, standing in a knee-deep plastic toy bin he is filling up for a bath. I trot down into the yard and tell him, “C’mon get in the house! You need clothes!”
Evan assumes I don’t “get it.” He reaches down into the water and splashes some up on himself, and says, “Ahhhhhhhhhh,” grinning ear to ear.
I have to stifle my laughter to avoid encouraging more shenanigans. I pull Evan out of his backyard Jacuzzi and tell him to go inside the house. He does, and I proceed to shut the water off and replace the backyard toys. Inside, the boys are laughing and screaming. Wet clothes are everywhere. All of this has transpired in the 30 minutes since they stepped off the bus.
Lately, I have been reading about the concept of adventure tourism. People pay guides to take them up a mountain or into the jungle. I am thinking of starting my own company. No plane tickets needed. I’ll just send the boys to your house for a week.
By the end of Parenthood, Steve Martin is learning to let go and have fun despite the ups and downs. You have to. Sure, you could go along white-knuckled and tense. But it is way more fun to throw your hands up in the air and laugh the whole way.
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