It's Friday night, what used to be family movie night. But tonight I have three kids on three different screens...and earphones. The main TV is off, the music is on and being enjoyed by my husband and I, and the three kids are peaceful in front of their electronics. Eating dinner at the breakfast bar--straight off the grill, on to the cutting board, and in to my mouth.
The oldest finishes her movie--about cyber bullying. I explain to her that we are the first generation of parents to deal with this cyber stuff. We share stories. Topic jumps to pills. Whitney Houston. On to asphyxiation - what does suicide truly mean?
WOW.
ROLES. Fuck roles. I'm washing the dishes. I'm clearing up this week's paperwork. I'm drinking more chardonnay.
Where's the money coming from? Who cares?
You ran the dishwasher on rinse-only last night. Who cares?
It's Friday night and I spent precious time with my littlest, brushing her hair, getting her clothes off and jammies on. She asked me to brush her teeth for her as we stood in a steamy bathroom to help loosen her nasal and chest congestion. Wondered how the hamster in the room felt about it. Recalled the "nebulizer years" when we took baby Baby in here to breathe better. And learning later that dry heat is really better. Sometimes.
This is a long road--sometimes fast, sometimes so painfully slow. But my ROLE is Mom. Whether I'm earning a paycheck, doing yoga, letting my husband to the laundry, or hiring a nanny. His ROLE is Dad. Whether he's following behind finishing what I don't, selling the crap out of magazine ads, listening to me rant and rave about "the latest research," the neighbor's drama, my own self-inadequacies. Talking to his son about masturbation this weekend.
Yes. ROLES. They exist. How do you define them?
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