For the most part, Jeeper is good at recognizing boundaries. Sure, he negotiates
daily and he pushes hard for what he wants when he wants it, but he isn't one of those kids who snatches the decorative items off your mother-in-law's coffee table and he knows to ask for a grown-up's hand before stepping into a parking lot. So he caught me off guard a few months back when he put coins into the CD-player in my car stereo.
He was "playing car" in my car in the garage -- sitting in the parked car (no keys anywhere near for those of you who are questioning my parenting skills) and pretending to drive it. We had gone over the rules a number of times before: no turning on the headlights, honking the horn or playing with the CD-player. Other than that, he could turn the radio dials, flip the windshield wiper lever up and down, push on the hazard light button and imagine he was speeding down the road all he wanted.
As you can imagine, the coins in the CD drive have rendered that part of the stereo inoperable. And neither my husband nor the dealer can get the coins out. Which means that I'll have to replace the stereo system if I want to play CDs ever again.
And although I've thought about tapping some of the funds in JP's "Savings" or "Taxes"
accounts, for now, I'm opting to rely on the radio. And I must admit I'm enjoying the one small perk of JP's coin adventure --
no children's music! Since all of his music was on CDs, when he demands "kid music" I can calmly remind him that the CD player doesn't work. And when I ask him why, he remorsefully replies, "Because I put money in it." Well, son, how about some good old rock and roll instead?!
In the middle of this weekend's usual events -- dishes, bedtime routines, a trip to the store -- and extraordinary events -- homemade raspberry pancakes, our 10th wedding anniversary, an afternoon to myself -- I received a call that my dad had been admitted to the hospital and appears to have had a stroke. Diaper changes and meal preparations were suddenly interrupted by frequent phone calls, sobbing fits and internet searches for flight schedules to Montana. His condition is stable enough that the testing that will give insight into what happened has to wait for the holiday to pass. So I am on hold. And in limbo. Sandwiched between worrying about my dad and working with my kids. I pick up CeCe's stack of blocks and at the same time I fall apart at the thought of my dad struggling to communicate. My dad! One of the most talkative, verbal and opinionated people I know. I sit and sound out words with Jeep and I get a lump in my throat because, in his current state, my dad can't remember how to read. My dad! The one who taught me to love reading with his example of devouring book, after book, after book.
As a parent myself, I don't have the freedom to give my dad all the attention I want to give him. I want to be on a plane yesterday. I want to be at the hospital asking questions, holding his hand and making sure my mom gets time off to rest and eat. But who will look after our kids while I take care of my dad? Do I take one or both or none with me? What favors do we call in from friends and neighbors and when? How can we choose between the plane tickets and preschool tuition? How do we make responsible financial decisions for our family -- our whole family? There isn't a guidebook or one clear black and white answer right now. And so I pray for the strength to make the best decision I can -- for my kids, my husband, my self, and especially for my dad.
