Role reversals

I was sitting here reading some of the replies to my Facebook entry and pondering parenthood. After a particularly trying afternoon, I asked if anyone knew the Blue Book value on an 11 and 7 year old so I could have a fair “Buy Now” price when I posted them on e-Bay. Of course, most parents responded with an “LOL!” or wanted to see if I could include their children’s ages in the quest for a price. There were a few of my friends who responded to my call with the word “priceless.” I have to say those particular people have not passed this way in a while, and, with all due respect, have clearly forgotten this time in their lives. But it did start me thinking – hold on, clearly the roller coaster is about to take off from the platform…

I remember as a kid playing a certain role in our familial structure. There was my maternal grandmother who played a large role in my upbringing. There was my father who, at the time, was an alcoholic with mercurial temperament when and if he was home. My mother was wrapped up with the day-to-day living within a dysfunctional family and taking care of my brother – the baby – and working as a teacher. I’ve already described my brother and then there was me. We had other relatives scattered around who we saw on the occasional holidays. And as time marched on, we all had our roles.

But something changed once I had children. I don’t mean the fact that over the past eleven years I’ve had more night time visitors than Dolly Parton’s character in “The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas” or the fact that I can no longer sneeze without peeing my pants. I’m talking about a whole, personality altering, place along the time continuum, relocation. Somehow I have become the grown up – that alone should scare the bejeebers out of somebody. Isn’t anyone up there in the heavens watching for this kind of stuff?!?!

I remember back even as little as five years ago, when my mother was here in Oklahoma taking care of her aunt. She still had a spring in her step and, well, I just can’t seem to put it into words, but, something. But in those five years, she suffered and overcame breast cancer, a couple of falls, and life. I have to say, though, that if she would have had to deal my three and their antics over the past few days all by her self, she probably would have committed hari-kari!

So now what? My mother has a hard time hearing me and tells me the same stories over and over, again, ad nauseum. I hear myself saying the same things my mother and grandmother said – “I swear, if you don’t stop touching your brother I’m going to stop this car and leave you here!” (As you all know, I would NEVER really do that. Although my husband was telling me about the comedian who described the three seconds of peace that all parents cling to between the time in which he or she gets everyone buckled in, doors shut, and the dreaded time to come in which the parent must open his or her own door and get into the car with said offsprings.)

This morning, my mother had these frozen breakfast type taco things that she tried to offer to everyone. It soon became the running joke between me and oldest son Christopher. While it was at one time a bonding moment between me and my son (ANY time today that someone irritated us, we asked the other “Do you want a taco?”), it was also a sad vision of things to come. At what point does the wheel of life turn and those in a position of caring become the one who is cared for? Will my children have the same arguments with me that I have with my mother? Will they pray for the same patience with me for which I hope for with my mother? Hopefully, they will love me and put up with me as much as I do with my own mom.

Just so we don’t end things here on a downer, I have to say we ended up having a great day. We spent the afternoon at the local waterpark/pool. This place is great – splash pool for little ones, wade-in pool, two water slides, and lazy river. We all got to swim, get some sun, and enjoy Dippin’ Dots (I hate these people – over-priced balls of ice cream, really? Why couldn’t I have thought of this?). As we were collecting our stuff from the lockers, youngest Alex decided he had had enough. I’m packing our bag as I begin to notice that everyone around us is chuckling. I whirled around in time to see Alex stripping out of his bathing suit. I got him wrapped in a towel and into the car without the police being called for lewd conduct. My hope is that his spirit and sense of adventure continue even as the roles reverse.