This
is the darling new sign I scored at an adorable little shop in a town about 10
miles over from Small Town America….it could feasibly be called SmallER Town
America. Isn’t it cute?
It
is strategically placed in our kitchen to remind our darling geese of the way
that a group of people that live together and share a bathroom and holidays
should treat one another. Another word
for this group is called FAMILY, and we most certainly have days when we do a
better job of “rule following” than others.
Upon glancing at this list of “family rules” one might agree that it
covers all of your basics…being respectful, putting others first, etc etc. But
if you look closer, you will notice that it does not leave room for all of the “hidden
rules” that families seem to acquire over the years. You know…those things that are unspoken
amongst the residents, yet understood to be gospel. Things that make the family
tick…understandings and agreements that keep the peace. Every
family has them. Some are more unspoken than others; some more sacred than
most. All important, nonetheless, to the
ever-changing, ever-developing dynamic that exists in each of our homes. Here are ours in no particular order:
1.
All arachnids, rodents,
insects, or reptiles are to die upon discovery.
I
don’t do bugs, mice, lizards, or spiders in ANY capacity. The geese know not to bring these creatures
home in a shoebox, and if one of these critters makes the daunting mistake of
appearing in this house…all motion comes to a screeching halt until the
creature has met it’s Maker. When the hubs and I first moved to Small Town
America, I called him home from work to kill a spider that I swear was the size
of my head. Last month, there was a cockroach that found
its way into the kitchen upon the geese and I returning from the pool. I hollered for my son to come rescue this
damsel in distress, much to his chagrin, because honestly the roach was the
size of a submarine. After flushing it
down the commode, my 7 year old prince looks at me simply and said, “You know
you’re the only one in the world that I would ever be that brave for.” To which
I replied, “Yes…and that is why you are going to live with me until you are 85.” His daddy has raised him to be a mighty
warrior…especially when it matters.
2.
All words spoken amongst sleep-deprived adults
between the hours of 11pm and 6am are to never, ever be repeated or held
against one another in a court of law or the bathroom the next morning.
When
the hubs and I had our oldest goose almost 9 years ago (!!!!!), we discovered
what true
sleep-deprivation was all about.
He was wonderful about helping me get up with our newborn baby…often
doing diaper duty and bringing her to me to nurse for our middle of the night
feedings. And on those rare occasions
that she would not return to sleep quickly after filling her tummy, her father
would take her into the other room sometimes and rock her to sleep or watch
infomercials until the wee hours of the night so that I could be a functioning
parent the next day. Super sweet,
right?? Yes…it was. But sometimes the
sweetness would give way to resentment and the hours of sleep-deprivation would
creep up and cause both of us to say crazy, hurtful, resentful things to each
other between the hours of 11pm and 6am.
It was like Satan himself would come into our home, take up residence,
and see what kind of havoc he could reap on our otherwise peaceful home. Comparisons of who had been up with the baby
more; snide comments about who had the harder job-the one who left the home and
went to work with adults, or the one that stayed home with a newborn…the list
goes on and on. And then miraculously,
we would wake the next morning, and after we had both showered and had our
first cups of coffee…it was like Satan had left the building, and we went right
back to being sweet and cooperative with one another. Bizarre.
So here we are…9 years and 2 more geese later…the rule still stands. And even better, the babies have grown accustomed
to this “hidden rule” and do a pretty good job of just not speaking to me
before my first sip of coffee is consumed.
I’m convinced God made the Keurig coffee maker on Day 8 of creation.
3. When asked the
question, “where do you want to eat?” suggestions are simply that….suggestions. Mama
picks.
I
can’t explain why I’m the moodiest food consumer EVER, I just am. Funny thing is, my besties have taken on this
“hidden rule” even in our own relationship. Jen just smiles and waits for me to “suggest”
where we eat just to save time. Some
call this bossy pants. I call it having an opinion.
4. If
something is important to you, it better find a home…clutter is a cuss word.
I
would rather have needles stabbed in my eyes than live in a state of
clutter. I often walk through the house
with a large trash bag and just begin chunking things in just to rid ourselves
of the stuff. My kids are often
mortified as they discover that I have trashed their latest graded math paper
or candy they collected from the Small Town America parade we attended on
Friday (Small Town America parades are a blog post in and of themselves…) This practice seems great to have a kitchen
countertop free of junk, but the downside is that the geese’s rooms become
spaces devoted to their hoarding practices.
My oldest daughter hoards like nobody’s business. She has every picture she’s ever drawn for
every friend she’s ever made at every birthday party she’s ever attended. It’s wrong on so many levels. So their unspoken, hidden rule has become “put
it up before Mom throws it out”. Works
for me.
5. The
geese will never, ever become too big to rock in the laps of their parents.
There is just NOTHING better than lifting one
of your babies up into your lap in a rocking chair, and just attaching your
lips to their face. My bigs are becoming
quite large and sometimes quite awkward, but I mean it when I say that someone
is going to have to sedate me the day by babies become too big or too cool or
too busy to sit and rock with me for a few minutes each day. Time simply stands still in these moments and
my heart fills up to the very brim…almost to the point where I fear it will
explode. Good thing that son of mine is
going to be here until he’s 85.
Well,
there you have it…The “hidden rules” of this little family of 5. There are days
that I honestly worry that my children will grow up and tell stories of their
neurotic mother freaking out over a “harmless” spider. Or their father taking out the trash that
included their book report and first lost tooth because the “Tooth Fairy
accidentally left it on the kitchen counter”… But when the rubber meets the
road, I know that our kids won’t
remember the laundry piled up or every time we made a mistake as parents. But I hope they do remember the security that
they were wanted, they were adored, they were cherished, and they were loved.
So very loved.
