Helmet or bubble wrap? Helmet or
bubble wrap...
I’m trying to figure out Jesse’s
Hanukkah gift this year and it comes down to a shiny new Riddell football
helmet – or a full bubble wrap body suit.
I wouldn’t have considered either
of these if it wasn’t for a gift that I gave her a long, long time ago. The
gift of highly-flawed DNA. Heredity is a fickle thing apparently. Despite being
blessed with most of our best traits – Shelly’s looks and Shelly’s brains – Jesse somehow got stuck with my feeble excuse
for motor coordination. It’s really the only way that we can explain her dozen
or so trips to the hospital over the last few years.
Jake’s assessment, “A baby giraffe
in heels is less clumsy than you, JD. I’m still scratching my head over how you
got into that little incident with the ATV a few years back.”
SERIOUSLY?? You crash one 4-wheeler into one telephone pole one time
and you’re labeled for life.
How bad could it have been anyway? I hardly even remember it.
How bad could it have been anyway? I hardly even remember it.
Anyway, we can point fingers all
day, it won’t change the fact that Jesse’s head is incredibly attracted to hard
surfaces. I realize that concussions are part of sports, Jess just seems to get
a concussion in every sport.
Before you run to child welfare, remember…Jesse’s
our fourth. By the time she rolled along we were already numb to injuries that
didn’t involve firearms or squirting blood. It’s hardly neglect, though - Jake
and Pey are very capable with basic first aid. Unfortunately, they have long
since skipped town, and with Avery right behind, the responsibility for parenting
soon falls back on us. Probably a good thing, I guess. Their track record for caregiving was pretty crummy anyway.
With the nest nearly empty, we are
already looking back on middle age with gnawing regret. It became pretty clear
that if we have any hope of getting parenting “right” we need to start moving
on it soon. Sensing that we now ‘need them' more than they need us, the kids have
seized on our vulnerabilities.
It all began back in March when
Avery received her senior driver’s license. From a legal perspective, she was
now restriction-free to drive whenever and wherever she wanted. Of course, she
didn’t realize that the laws of Shellyville are far more punishing than any the
police can enforce. Took Jake two months to figure that out. Only took Peyton two
days.
Avery, however, has found a way to circumvent
our authoritarian rule. With Peyton’s sage guidance, she has methodically dismantled
many of the decades-old statutes put in place to maintain order – and it’s been
nothing but ever chaos since.
First thing to get whacked was
curfew. That was quickly followed by spending limits (I am pretty sure Shelly
sabotaged me on that one). Probably wouldn’t have even noticed that one if Visa
hadn’t sent us that beautiful “Thank You” bouquet. Finally, in an incredible
act of defiance, she obliterated all rules related to boys near the house. I
even caught one eating dinner here!
But, as guilt-ridden as we felt, how
could we say no?
Where Avery really poured it on,
though, was in preparing her college applications. A tear, a couple of batted
eyelashes, and the old, “I’ll miss you guys so much next year when I’m gone,”
was all it took to rope me into helping with her essays. I edited while Avery
focused on external relations (social media). We were in total harmony. Only
took us four months and forty arguments.
Entirely worth it, though. Each
acceptance letter has led to champagne toasts and huge hugs. For Shelly! Took
days for the news to travel to me, though. I feel like that dad that spent
every weekend throwing a ball to his kid in the backyard only to watch him
score his first professional touchdown and shout, “Thanks, Mom!!” into the
camera.
Surprisingly, for all of the ‘yeses’
we gave out this year to in order to minimize remorse, our wallet remained
relatively unscathed. That was until Peyton decided that we needed a family
vacation, “After all, it may be years before we are all together again.” They
picked the beach in San Diego and Jake picked-out a “Smart-Home” on AirBnB. It
had a completely modern look with technology everything. The toilet lifted the
seat for me and put it down for Shelly. It heated, cooled, washed, rinsed and
probably could have made us dinner. We fought over who got to use it like most
families fight over the good seat on the couch.
However, the guilt-driven decisions
didn’t stop there. We did almost everything they asked. Restaurants,
activities, beach. All of it. I felt like Jim Carrey in “Yes Man” – we couldn’t
say no.
And then there was skydiving…
Jake and Peyton decided it was a
must-do. Sure, I talked about taking them a few times when they were younger –
but I never thought they would actually call me on it. They had to know that it
was just bravado, right? A dad being a dad. I mean, if the kids think I am
clumsy on the ground, what could they have possibly been expecting from me in
the air??
Peyton was quick to provide
comfort, though, “Relax, JD, you fall all the time. At least this time when you
hit your head, you won’t even feel it.”
Once again…how do you say no to
that?
Here’s to a guilt-free 2019!
Shelly, JD, Jake, Peyton, Avery and
Jesse