Wednesday, March 30th during mid-afternoon, an era of my life ended. I knew the era was not going to last forever (despite appearances to the contrary), however, I was not expecting it that day.
My Wednesday began like most others. Heathens up and out the door for school. An hour or so later, I followed to make my commute to teach for the day.
Like most college instructors, I despise cell phones ringing during class - however, I understand that I have parents in my classroom that may have sick children, etc. I simply ask that all phones be on vibrate and that students leave the room to take a call.
At the beginning of my semesters, I explain that I also have children and that my phone will be on vibrate as well. During the course of lecture, if I hear it buzz, I can easily walk past the table to see whom is calling and decide if it is necessary to take the call. In six years, I have never taken a call.
The past few semesters, I've warned my students that I have an elderly uncle that I am the primary contact for the nursing home and a very elderly grandmother that I am the second point of contact as I'm one of the only family adults living in town. When those numbers blink up on the screen - I must take the call. Despite the number of calls I have received from the two facilities, they never called during class time.
Wednesday, the Manor called me at 1:31 pm. This means that my father, the primary contact for my grandmother, was unreachable. Considering it was a bright blue, crisp spring day, I was not surprised. I figured he was out in the yard. However, it had to be answered. I apologized to my class, feeling like a bit of a hypocrite. But it was necessary.
It was one of the nurses from my grandmother's wing. My Gram had been experiencing chest pain and was refusing to go to the hospital, despite the nurse's urging her to do so. She knew my Gram would listen if family told her she needed to go - so she called. I had her take the phone to my Gram.
Although not far from getting over a cold, my Gram's voice was weaker than I expected when she answered the phone. I had to explain twice who I was - at 92, her mind was weaker than any of us wanted to believe. And she responded, "Oh, do I have to?" when I said she needed to go to the hospital. I pleaded with her to go and promised that I would meet her there. She finally said she would and we ended our call with me promising to head for the hospital immediately.
I walked back into my classroom and did something else I have never done in six years. I announced, "Class dismissed," to a room of stunned faces, gathered my things, and was out the door ahead of most of my students.
I work approximately a hour from the hospital where they were taking her. On the drive into town, I made the necessary phone call to my father (turns out he had simply been in the shower), and called the Asst. Zookeeper to make sure he had the Zoo covered for the evening. My Gram tends to get rather cranky at the hospital because she doesn't like being there. Between that and the decline in her memory, she needs to have someone with her that can clarify things such as dates, times, durations, etc. The Asst. Zookeeper and I both figured I would be at the hospital until at least 8 or 9 that evening until she was admitted.
I was just 10 miles from the hospital when my mother called and told me to hurry. Gram had already reached the hospital and the hospital had called about her advanced directives. My heart dropped as I sat in stopped traffic in the construction zone between me and my grandmother. I counted every second as I sat at the red light just a few minutes later. It was all I could do NOT to pass the car going 5 miles under the speed limit. My mother had said to hurry, yet everything seemed designed to slow me down.
I pulled into the emergency room, grabbed my purse. Leaving my car running and the door hanging open for valet, I ran into the hospital and asked for my grandmother at the front desk. I was told they were waiting for me and that I was the first family member to arrive.
I knew from the tone of my mother's voice telling me to hurry that the era was ending, but I had been denying it. The look on that woman's face at confirmed it. As I was taken back through the maze of rooms, she was gathering up doctors, nurses and telling them that I was there for "Room 11." Those faces were just further confirmation of what I knew was happening.
The curtain in room 11 was brushed aside to show my Gram - very tiny on such a large bed. We've been joking with her recently that she was just going to simply disappear one day as she has continued to get shorter and shorter. Her eyes were closed and she was wearing an oxygen mask.
I was there awhile by myself before my parents arrived. I simply sat and held her hand and talked to her. Told her how much everyone loved her. How much I loved her. And I told her that while we would miss her, that we would manage without her - she could rest.
After my parents arrived, we were told she had passed away without regaining consciousness. While my parents made phone calls to family, I simply sat and continued to hold her hand. There wasn't anything else I could do. When my parents said it was time to leave, I did - feeling guilty, as though I was abandoning my grandmother at the hospital. And I drove home to my Zoo, trying to figure out how I was going to tell the Heathens that Great Gram was gone.
Friday, April 8, 2016
Monday, March 28, 2016
So, the rules change?
So. Today is THE day. A day that he has waited for impatiently. A day that has crawled towards us for years. A day that I've been dreading slightly only because it brings us one step closer to the inevitable.
Today, Heathen #1 turns 18 and is legally an adult.
Yesterday, he was NOT. Today, he IS. It seems so bizarre.
Last week, he commented about how the "rules will change" when he becomes an adult - and because of the conversation we were having, he was referring to the house rules. Things such as bedtimes, curfews, etc. Those were the rules that he thought were going to change. And he said it with a smug grin on his 17-year-old face.
I simply sat and looked at him with one eyebrow cocked, never saying a word. After a minute or two, he lost the smug grin and switched it for a shit-eating grin. He chuckled and shook his head. Then he said, "No, the rules aren't going to change. What was I thinking...."
He knows me so well.
But we DID have a conversation on the rules that DO change.
He is now legally an adult. It is no longer a fight between kids - it will/can involve police and charges. It's "assault." It's permanent. It will follow you for the rest of your life.
He is an adult and is now registered to vote. It is not a random "pick," but an educated choose. And his choice will affect not on his life, but the lives of everyone else as well. So choose carefully.
He is now old enough to gamble and buy cigarettes. I recommended he never start either habit. And I informed him that the house rules for cigarettes will NEVER change. I ever catch him with them and he will EAT the entire pack.
And, while some people like to say things like "it went by in a flash," I am not one of them. There are only two things in my life that I have invested more time and effort in that I have put into raising Heathen #1. I've invested more time and effort into my relationship with the Asst. Zookeeper - because there were times that we each had to keep the other from strangling a Heathen. And I've invested more time and effort into becoming myself.
If you think about it, 18 years really isn't that much - but they are such important years. He's just a few months from graduation and starting "his" life.
Happy Birthday, Heathen #1. I may threaten to toss you out and put your stuff on the front porch. And, you may eventually do something that makes me angry enough to do it. But, you will always have a home here at the Zoo.
Today, Heathen #1 turns 18 and is legally an adult.
Yesterday, he was NOT. Today, he IS. It seems so bizarre.
Last week, he commented about how the "rules will change" when he becomes an adult - and because of the conversation we were having, he was referring to the house rules. Things such as bedtimes, curfews, etc. Those were the rules that he thought were going to change. And he said it with a smug grin on his 17-year-old face.
I simply sat and looked at him with one eyebrow cocked, never saying a word. After a minute or two, he lost the smug grin and switched it for a shit-eating grin. He chuckled and shook his head. Then he said, "No, the rules aren't going to change. What was I thinking...."
He knows me so well.
But we DID have a conversation on the rules that DO change.
He is now legally an adult. It is no longer a fight between kids - it will/can involve police and charges. It's "assault." It's permanent. It will follow you for the rest of your life.
He is an adult and is now registered to vote. It is not a random "pick," but an educated choose. And his choice will affect not on his life, but the lives of everyone else as well. So choose carefully.
He is now old enough to gamble and buy cigarettes. I recommended he never start either habit. And I informed him that the house rules for cigarettes will NEVER change. I ever catch him with them and he will EAT the entire pack.
And, while some people like to say things like "it went by in a flash," I am not one of them. There are only two things in my life that I have invested more time and effort in that I have put into raising Heathen #1. I've invested more time and effort into my relationship with the Asst. Zookeeper - because there were times that we each had to keep the other from strangling a Heathen. And I've invested more time and effort into becoming myself.
If you think about it, 18 years really isn't that much - but they are such important years. He's just a few months from graduation and starting "his" life.
Happy Birthday, Heathen #1. I may threaten to toss you out and put your stuff on the front porch. And, you may eventually do something that makes me angry enough to do it. But, you will always have a home here at the Zoo.
Friday, March 25, 2016
Things I've Said That Make Me Pause
Every parent does it, whether they admit to it or not. Whether said in anger, confusion, worry, excitement - we say things that make us pause and ask ourselves, "Did I just say that?"
These sayings change over the years. When the Heathens were younger, I remember saying the following:
WHY is there a stuffed dinosaur in the refrigerator?
WHY would you color your stomach with a blue permanent marker?
As the Heathens aged, what I said changed:
WHY would you hit your brother with a broom?
WHY is there a jar of lightening bugs in the refrigerator?
In the past week, I've racked up some new ones. Things I NEVER thought I would say:
No pooping on the sidewalk! (Yelled at the top of my lungs and directed at one of our dogs during a snowstorm.
No goats running a-muck in the basement! (Instructions to a Heathen to close the pen when one of our goats kidded too early and we brought her in the house.)
Don't look at me in that tone of voice! (Pick a Heathen - I've said it too all of them in the past week. At ages 17, 13, and 10 - all three have that "tone" to their face when they are angry with me.)
WHY is there an empty plastic bowl in the freezer?
WHY does everyone have SHOES in my bathroom? This is NOT YOUR BATHROOM!
These sayings change over the years. When the Heathens were younger, I remember saying the following:
WHY is there a stuffed dinosaur in the refrigerator?
WHY would you color your stomach with a blue permanent marker?
As the Heathens aged, what I said changed:
WHY would you hit your brother with a broom?
WHY is there a jar of lightening bugs in the refrigerator?
In the past week, I've racked up some new ones. Things I NEVER thought I would say:
No pooping on the sidewalk! (Yelled at the top of my lungs and directed at one of our dogs during a snowstorm.
No goats running a-muck in the basement! (Instructions to a Heathen to close the pen when one of our goats kidded too early and we brought her in the house.)
Don't look at me in that tone of voice! (Pick a Heathen - I've said it too all of them in the past week. At ages 17, 13, and 10 - all three have that "tone" to their face when they are angry with me.)
WHY is there an empty plastic bowl in the freezer?
WHY does everyone have SHOES in my bathroom? This is NOT YOUR BATHROOM!
Wednesday, March 9, 2016
Costume Changes
There are weeks where I'm positive that I'm stuck in the movie Ground Hog's Day with Bill Murray. However, my movie title would be Halloween with the Heathens. Everyday requires multiple costume changes - forget the "wearing of different hats."
I originally ran into the concept of costume changes years ago when Heathen #2 was part of the local ballet company. During dress rehearsals, while I was chaperoning a group of third graders dressed as mice, I overheard some of the mothers of the older dancers discussing how one of the girls had a "30 second change" and a "45 second costume change" at different points during the production. And I remember thinking it was crazy - that some of the girls were playing so many roles that they had 6 or 7 costume changes with just seconds to get back out onto the stage.
Fast forward to this past weekend - and I was the one with multiple costume changes with only minutes to spare to get back on "stage!"
It was a typical Saturday at the Zoo (frighteningly typical): Heathen #1 was out of town for the weekend, attending his LAST Youth Rally at Living Waters. With him leaving Friday at dinner time and not returning until after lunch on Sunday - he left me short on a driver for the weekend (rather inconsiderate, if you ask me!). Heathen #2 had indoor guard practice from 8am-noon, and then was leaving from there to travel with the group to Tyrone for a competition. Heathen #3 had a swim meet at IUP and had to be in the water by 7 am. The Asst. Zookeeper was my dedicated driver for Heathen #3 - which left me with Heathen #2.
Unfortunately, I had an AYSO inter-regional scheduling meeting at 9am that same morning! This meeting typically lasts several hours.
So I started my morning with this outfit and attending a 3 hour scheduling meeting:
Then I quickly changed costumes and drove an hour from the meeting to the swim meet. I managed to see two of Heathen #3's events! Of course, the event I missed was the event that he finally met his goal of qualifying for districts in the 100 backstroke. Bless the Asst. Zookeeper's heart and the coaches' hearts for taking pictures for me!
As soon as the meet ended, the Asst. Zookeeper and I packed up the littlest Heathen. I changed costumes yet again! This time, it was an hour and 20 minute drive to Tyrone to see Heathen #2's performance with the indoor guard. We made it with just MINUTES to spare before his group took the floor! Bonus - got to see my Skinny Minnie's group perform as well!
And, finally, an hour and a half drive home. I made my final costume change and crawled into bed - EXHAUSTED. Zeus was quite unhappy as it was well past his 8pm bedtime. As soon as I crawled in bed, so did he.
It was a CRAZY day - but a great day for the Zoo. The next morning, we were up and out of the house before 9am. The Asst Zookeeper says we have a weekend off in April - of 2030 - if we are lucky.
I originally ran into the concept of costume changes years ago when Heathen #2 was part of the local ballet company. During dress rehearsals, while I was chaperoning a group of third graders dressed as mice, I overheard some of the mothers of the older dancers discussing how one of the girls had a "30 second change" and a "45 second costume change" at different points during the production. And I remember thinking it was crazy - that some of the girls were playing so many roles that they had 6 or 7 costume changes with just seconds to get back out onto the stage.
Fast forward to this past weekend - and I was the one with multiple costume changes with only minutes to spare to get back on "stage!"
It was a typical Saturday at the Zoo (frighteningly typical): Heathen #1 was out of town for the weekend, attending his LAST Youth Rally at Living Waters. With him leaving Friday at dinner time and not returning until after lunch on Sunday - he left me short on a driver for the weekend (rather inconsiderate, if you ask me!). Heathen #2 had indoor guard practice from 8am-noon, and then was leaving from there to travel with the group to Tyrone for a competition. Heathen #3 had a swim meet at IUP and had to be in the water by 7 am. The Asst. Zookeeper was my dedicated driver for Heathen #3 - which left me with Heathen #2.
Unfortunately, I had an AYSO inter-regional scheduling meeting at 9am that same morning! This meeting typically lasts several hours.
So I started my morning with this outfit and attending a 3 hour scheduling meeting:
Then I quickly changed costumes and drove an hour from the meeting to the swim meet. I managed to see two of Heathen #3's events! Of course, the event I missed was the event that he finally met his goal of qualifying for districts in the 100 backstroke. Bless the Asst. Zookeeper's heart and the coaches' hearts for taking pictures for me!
As soon as the meet ended, the Asst. Zookeeper and I packed up the littlest Heathen. I changed costumes yet again! This time, it was an hour and 20 minute drive to Tyrone to see Heathen #2's performance with the indoor guard. We made it with just MINUTES to spare before his group took the floor! Bonus - got to see my Skinny Minnie's group perform as well!
And, finally, an hour and a half drive home. I made my final costume change and crawled into bed - EXHAUSTED. Zeus was quite unhappy as it was well past his 8pm bedtime. As soon as I crawled in bed, so did he.
It was a CRAZY day - but a great day for the Zoo. The next morning, we were up and out of the house before 9am. The Asst Zookeeper says we have a weekend off in April - of 2030 - if we are lucky.
Thursday, February 18, 2016
The Joy of Volunteering
For those that know me (whether they know me slightly or know me well) are currently wondering if this post's title is sarcastic or sincere - as it would well be either.
I'm one of those souls that has the world "YES!" stamped on my forehead in invisible ink that only those requiring help in some method or another can see - usually from quite a distance (I think the ink flashes sometimes!). If someone asks me to help, I simply can NOT help myself. I say yes.
I have been a classroom parent, a visiting reader, a committee member (I've lost track of the number of committees), a board member, a treasurer, a fundraiser, an organizer, a chaperon, a team parent, a party planner - you name it, I've probably done it (or considered it before the Asst. Zookeeper put his foot down and told me NO MORE!)
Recently, just this past Saturday, my longest running affiliation with a volunteer organization came to an end. I've been counting down to this day for MONTHS. I felt the need to build a paper chain to count down the meetings remaining until "Freedom Day!" After approximately 12 years, I was ready to be finished.
Saturday was INCREDIBLY STRESSFUL for me - I was handing over responsibilities. Did I have everything prepped so that the new person was prepared to the best of my abilities? Was there any more I could have done to make the transition any smoother? Did I find the best replacement for my jobs?
During the banquet, I was recognized (much to my horror - I'd much rather fade into the wallpaper). But all these young scouts knew who it was that organized the trips, and the camps, and the fundraisers, etc. I wish I could have hugged them all - watching their hands shoot into the air because the knew the answer and wanted to be called on to give it was SO HEARTWARMING for me.
Those little hands straining with knowledge of who had loved them, was why that ink stamp exists on my forehead. It was never for the parents (many of which I could have smacked at one time or another). It was never for the recognition. It was never for the "power" of being in charge. It was for those scouts - they deserved the best program we were capable of providing. And, I believe, I helped provide that program for the past many years.
At the banquet, I handed everything over - and I went home full of worries and doubts. Not doubts in the people replacing me. I'm easily replaceable. All it takes is a warm body and some dedication. It was more a worry for the future of the group. I hope those taking over love the program and the scouts the way I have.
In addition to the scouts themselves, I have met some of the most AMAZING adults along the journey. People who share my values and dedication to children. Some friendships are built over the course of years as people slowly get to know one another. Other friendships are built in the matter of a second, as one person recognizes a dedicated volunteer in the other - my best friend was found this way.
So, to the Cub Scouts - THANK YOU for the program you have given my Heathens over the past 12 years. They have learned skills and abilities that are unique to the program and that will serve them well in life. THANK YOU to the other volunteers for every time you offered to help me when I seemed overwhelmed - whether I accepted the offer of help or not, the OFFER matter much more than you can imagine. THANK YOU to the scouts - you accepted that I was allowed to participate and have fun WITH you. For every story you told me, every project you shared with me, every achievement you showed me - THANK YOU.
As for the boys currently in the Pack, you will always be "mine" - just like the scouts that have bridged out ahead of you. I still find delight in hearing about college plans, good grades, adventures, etc. I know you all by name and will be keeping an eye out for you in the years to come.
While I say it with a sniffle, I am ready to BE PREPARED for the next chapter in my volunteering life. Although, I will never forget where it started. Cub Scout Pack 217 - thank you.
I'm one of those souls that has the world "YES!" stamped on my forehead in invisible ink that only those requiring help in some method or another can see - usually from quite a distance (I think the ink flashes sometimes!). If someone asks me to help, I simply can NOT help myself. I say yes.
I have been a classroom parent, a visiting reader, a committee member (I've lost track of the number of committees), a board member, a treasurer, a fundraiser, an organizer, a chaperon, a team parent, a party planner - you name it, I've probably done it (or considered it before the Asst. Zookeeper put his foot down and told me NO MORE!)
Recently, just this past Saturday, my longest running affiliation with a volunteer organization came to an end. I've been counting down to this day for MONTHS. I felt the need to build a paper chain to count down the meetings remaining until "Freedom Day!" After approximately 12 years, I was ready to be finished.
Saturday was INCREDIBLY STRESSFUL for me - I was handing over responsibilities. Did I have everything prepped so that the new person was prepared to the best of my abilities? Was there any more I could have done to make the transition any smoother? Did I find the best replacement for my jobs?
During the banquet, I was recognized (much to my horror - I'd much rather fade into the wallpaper). But all these young scouts knew who it was that organized the trips, and the camps, and the fundraisers, etc. I wish I could have hugged them all - watching their hands shoot into the air because the knew the answer and wanted to be called on to give it was SO HEARTWARMING for me.
Those little hands straining with knowledge of who had loved them, was why that ink stamp exists on my forehead. It was never for the parents (many of which I could have smacked at one time or another). It was never for the recognition. It was never for the "power" of being in charge. It was for those scouts - they deserved the best program we were capable of providing. And, I believe, I helped provide that program for the past many years.
At the banquet, I handed everything over - and I went home full of worries and doubts. Not doubts in the people replacing me. I'm easily replaceable. All it takes is a warm body and some dedication. It was more a worry for the future of the group. I hope those taking over love the program and the scouts the way I have.
In addition to the scouts themselves, I have met some of the most AMAZING adults along the journey. People who share my values and dedication to children. Some friendships are built over the course of years as people slowly get to know one another. Other friendships are built in the matter of a second, as one person recognizes a dedicated volunteer in the other - my best friend was found this way.
So, to the Cub Scouts - THANK YOU for the program you have given my Heathens over the past 12 years. They have learned skills and abilities that are unique to the program and that will serve them well in life. THANK YOU to the other volunteers for every time you offered to help me when I seemed overwhelmed - whether I accepted the offer of help or not, the OFFER matter much more than you can imagine. THANK YOU to the scouts - you accepted that I was allowed to participate and have fun WITH you. For every story you told me, every project you shared with me, every achievement you showed me - THANK YOU.
As for the boys currently in the Pack, you will always be "mine" - just like the scouts that have bridged out ahead of you. I still find delight in hearing about college plans, good grades, adventures, etc. I know you all by name and will be keeping an eye out for you in the years to come.
While I say it with a sniffle, I am ready to BE PREPARED for the next chapter in my volunteering life. Although, I will never forget where it started. Cub Scout Pack 217 - thank you.
Monday, February 15, 2016
8 At ONCE!
At the beginning of November, Kohl's was holding a great sale with a rebate on small appliances. And I saw an electric griddle - something the Asst. Zookeeper has talked about for years, but we could never find one exactly like he wanted (his specifications were exact). This griddle was everything that he wanted. So I bought it with the intention of saving it for Christmas.
I gave it to him long before Thanksgiving and didn't give him anything at Christmas.
He was so happy to be able to make 8 grilled cheese sandwiches at once that he could hardly contain himself. I was summoned to the kitchen to witness the "awesomeness" of 8 grilled cheeses happening at one time!
All I could think of was the Brave Little Tailor with Mickey Mouse when he's so excited about killing flies, but everyone things he's talking about giants:
Last weekend, he made French toast and I heard him talking to himself in the kitchen, "Look at THAT!" And I knew that he was again using his griddle.
So if anyone hears my Asst. Zookeeper talking about "8 at once," please know that he was not out slaying giants. He was making dinner - for which, I am ever grateful.
I gave it to him long before Thanksgiving and didn't give him anything at Christmas.
He was so happy to be able to make 8 grilled cheese sandwiches at once that he could hardly contain himself. I was summoned to the kitchen to witness the "awesomeness" of 8 grilled cheeses happening at one time!
All I could think of was the Brave Little Tailor with Mickey Mouse when he's so excited about killing flies, but everyone things he's talking about giants:
King: Did you kill seven [giants] with one blow?
Mickey: Uh, yes, your honor, and how!
King: ...well, how?
Mickey: I was all alone, I heard them coming, I looked up, and I was surrounded!
King: Yes?
Mickey: They were here, there, everywhere! A whole bunch of them! They came at me from the right, the left, right, left, left, right!
King: Yes, yes, go on!
Mickey: They were coming closer! The fight was on! I swung and missed! I missed and swung! I swung again and again and again! They were right on top of me!
King: And then?
Mickey: And then, I let 'em have it!
—Mickey Mouse
Last weekend, he made French toast and I heard him talking to himself in the kitchen, "Look at THAT!" And I knew that he was again using his griddle.
So if anyone hears my Asst. Zookeeper talking about "8 at once," please know that he was not out slaying giants. He was making dinner - for which, I am ever grateful.
Thursday, February 11, 2016
Simple Joys: Time & Conversation
The Asst. Zookeeper and I have never been ones to exchange gifts. We watch other couples worry about the "perfect gift" for Christmas, birthdays - and now Valentine's Day is just around the corner.
It entertains me when people treat us as lepers because we don't have huge plans for the upcoming weekend. "What do you MEAN you aren't doing ANYTHING special?" Pair this shocked question with a horrified look on the face of the woman who was painting my nails. Sometimes, I'm then pitied as though I don't know how horrible my life is - I'm told that there is STILL TIME to make plans and I can still go shopping.
Occasionally, I feel the urge to lie to these people (acquaintances, friends, and even family) just to avoid the entire conversation. I look at it as being a lie of convenience. I don't have to be treated as though I'm abnormal. I don't feel the need to attempt and defend our decisions. And, yet, I continue to tell people:
No - we do not have holiday/birthday plans. No - we do not exchange gifts.
YES - we are happy.
And here is why we are happy. Almost 20 years ago, when the Zoo didn't yet exist, we were NOT the Head and Asst. Zookeeper. We were simply US - and we had no extra money. Buying gifts and going out for fancy dinners wasn't an option at that point. So we learned to spend TIME together. And we learned to TALK to each other.
And now, 20 years later, it entertains me when the Asst. Zookeeper and I are in a different room from the Heathens and I overhear one of them ask where we are. It cracks me up to hear one of them respond, "They're in the dining room. But don't go in because they are TALKING." This is said with the same inflection of voice as though we are doing something else. And the Asst. Zookeeper chuckles as well.
So, no, we have no plans for Valentine's Day. And we have no plans for my birthday, which is just a few days later. And I DO NOT feel slighted, or unloved, or un-valued. This is simply how we work.
And, because the Asst. Zookeeper just walked in the door from work, I'm finished for this round. Now, as we taught our Heathens when they were little: Go find something to do for awhile. We're talking.
It entertains me when people treat us as lepers because we don't have huge plans for the upcoming weekend. "What do you MEAN you aren't doing ANYTHING special?" Pair this shocked question with a horrified look on the face of the woman who was painting my nails. Sometimes, I'm then pitied as though I don't know how horrible my life is - I'm told that there is STILL TIME to make plans and I can still go shopping.
Occasionally, I feel the urge to lie to these people (acquaintances, friends, and even family) just to avoid the entire conversation. I look at it as being a lie of convenience. I don't have to be treated as though I'm abnormal. I don't feel the need to attempt and defend our decisions. And, yet, I continue to tell people:
No - we do not have holiday/birthday plans. No - we do not exchange gifts.
YES - we are happy.
And here is why we are happy. Almost 20 years ago, when the Zoo didn't yet exist, we were NOT the Head and Asst. Zookeeper. We were simply US - and we had no extra money. Buying gifts and going out for fancy dinners wasn't an option at that point. So we learned to spend TIME together. And we learned to TALK to each other.
And now, 20 years later, it entertains me when the Asst. Zookeeper and I are in a different room from the Heathens and I overhear one of them ask where we are. It cracks me up to hear one of them respond, "They're in the dining room. But don't go in because they are TALKING." This is said with the same inflection of voice as though we are doing something else. And the Asst. Zookeeper chuckles as well.
So, no, we have no plans for Valentine's Day. And we have no plans for my birthday, which is just a few days later. And I DO NOT feel slighted, or unloved, or un-valued. This is simply how we work.
And, because the Asst. Zookeeper just walked in the door from work, I'm finished for this round. Now, as we taught our Heathens when they were little: Go find something to do for awhile. We're talking.
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