by Patti
If you are a mother, you already know what it is like to attempt to have a conversation or to
form an intelligent thought when there are children buzzing about. Somehow, you
are always reduced to fractured sentences and half-assed thoughts because, well,
it is nearly impossible to finish ANYTHING when kids are nearby. I call these:
“kidterruptions”.
The other day, Cathy and I were at the ballet studio waiting
for our girls to finish their class. I had brought the laptop with me so that
we could work on a few things for the blog since most of our “business
meetings” consist of harried texts or frenzied 10-minute online chats, and we
rarely get the opportunity to discuss anything pertaining to the blog in
person. We found a quiet, dark corner in
the studio, and I fired up the laptop.
Cathy had also brought her 5-year old daughter Ari along
that day, and Ari was excited because the studio had just thrown a surprise
party for one of the dancers, and there was cake and popcorn and other treats.
We were both relieved, thinking that these treats and excitement would actually
distract Ari and give us some time to ourselves. However, as we both tried to
read over some materials, Ari tapped her mother on the arm like a woodpecker on a tree no less than 20
times in a span of about 10 minutes to ask her about the popcorn, cake, water,
games, could she look at videos on her phone, could she look at videos on MY
phone, could she watch the girls dance, could she have some candy, could she
have more popcorn, could Cathy GET her that popcorn…..
After a mini-snap by Cathy, who had been amazingly patient
up to this point, we finally got Ari settled into a chair with some popcorn to
watch a video on my phone, and tried to get back down to business. That is
when two other girls that were definitely not ours began to interrupt us, too.
Did we want some candy? Did we like the cake? Would we like something to drink?
Would we like some popcorn? Did we see the balloons? What was Ari doing on the phone?
I looked up and then back down to my computer screen for the
bajillionth time, and realized that I had been reading the same sentence for
the past 10 minutes. I finally just gave up attempting to form an intelligent
thought about what it was that I was reading, and edited Mommy Style: “Looks good to me!” I told Cathy. And the
thing was: I had no idea whether it looked good or not; I no longer cared.
Because I couldn’t finish what I started and there was no point in even trying
to finish.
It only took one glance between us for us to understand one
another: The constant kidterruptions had reached peak levels, and our brains
had simply switched off to protect themselves from exploding.
I remember before I became a mother, I would call
girlfriends that already had kids and try to have a conversation with them on
the phone. It never failed that those conversations were punctuated by a “REED!
PUT THAT DOWN!” or a “THOMAS! GET THAT OUT OF YOUR MOUTH!”, and of course, the
classic, “CAN’T YOU SEE I’M ON THE PHONE!”
I admit: I used to get impatient; feel slighted, even.
Now? After having done the exact same thing to childless
friends, I know better; I can now sympathize. And apparently, I have been physically
branded by constant kidterruptions, because not only do I have my own kid
to blame for fractured conversations, OTHER kids can somehow see that I am fair game, and they
interrupt my conversations, too.
So the next time you ---
(Sorry, kidterruption.)
