Why I Drink

Sure. We all go through it. The nightly hijacking of our adult time by the terrorists among us: our offspring. Think that I have any more sympathy for mine just because they have medical issues? Think again...

Night Noises: A One Act Play
(inspired by the hit children's story 'Go the F*** to Sleep!')

by: Ashley Fuchs

Dedicated to: my children, without whom, I would have time...and a life...

The Cast:

Mom: Ashley (Me)

Daughter: Eldest Rubber Duck

Son: Youngest Rubber Duck

Dad: Mr. Ashley

The Setting: A typical bedtime routine on a school night, 20 minutes past bedtime and just past the point where my patience has run out…

[In Son’s room]

Mom: “It’s past bedtime, so it’s time to tuck you in. Do you have your wrist braces on?”

Son: “No.”

Mom: Sigh…"The ones you wear every night? That you should know you need to have on by now? Where are they?”

Son: “I dunno.”

Mom: Turns on light. “Well, help me look for them.” Found under the bed with about seven balled up socks. “How did they…? Nevermind. Good night. Sleep well. Do you need anything?”

Son: “No”

Mom: “OK. I love you.”

Son: “See you in the mor-ning!”

Mom: “See you in the mor-ning!” Steps out of room.

Son: “Mom!”

Mom: “What?”

Son: “I need water.”

Mom: “I just asked you that. You need to get it before we get into bed. It’s too late now. Good night…”

Son: “I NEED WATER OR I’M GOING TO GET DEHYDRATED AND GET A MIGRAINE!”

Mom: (Grrrrrrrrrrr): Get.it.yourself. I have to put your sister to bed and sit down for five minutes tonight.

[In Daughter’s room]

Mom: “OK, hon, it’s bedtime, so put down the book and…good LORD how did your room get this messy? Anyway, did you brush your teeth?”

Daughter: “No.”

Mom: “It’s 9:00! I sent you up to do that an hour ago. Get it done…and remember to wash your face and put on night cream so you will have nice skin…”

Son: “Mom?”

Mom: “Go to sleep, Son!”

Son: “How come she gets to stay up later than me?”

Mom: “I’m closing your door…”

Son: “No!!!”

Daughter: “I’m finished!”

Mom: “Great. I was just watching your fish swim around while I waited. Did you remember to feed him?”

Daughter: “No…”

Mom: Gathering chi, counting to three. “If you don’t feed your fish, then it won’t live. Let’s do it now.”

Son: Leaping out of bed “I want to feed mine!”

The children feed their fish, peppered by minor arguments over who gets to go first, etc. Finally, everyone is back into their own beds with the lights out.

Mom: “Goodnight, Daughter. Do you have your wrist braces on?”

Daughter: “No.”

Mom: Losing it…“REALLY? ‘Cause I seem to remember that’s something that you have to do every damn night! Where are they?”

Daughter: Looking at a pile of clothes next to her bed. “Um…”

Mom: “OK, I’m out. I haven’t sat down all day. You find them and turn your own light out. I love you…very much…”

Daughter: teary “How come Son gets a better tuck in than me!”

Mom: Sigh…”Because it’s 9:20 pm, and you should have been asleep 30 min ago.”

[In living room]

Mom sits down with Dad, who has just finished washing the dinner dishes and walking the dog. A television program is on.

Mom: “So, how was your day?”

Dad: “Well, actually…” Footsteps are heard on stairs. Both parents freeze. “Who is it, and what do you want?” Dad says in a not-inviting voice…

Son: (in a small voice) “Mom…?”

Mom: Dropping her head in her hands. “What.”

Son: “My hip hurts. I need tape.

Mom: “Yeah, your hip hurts, Son. You tried to ride your scooter down a hill and fell off, pulling your groin. You probably subluxed it. I offered you ice and you refused. You need ice.”

Son: “Can you tape it?”

Mom: “I will tape it in the morning. Do you want ice? It will make the swelling go down and make you feel better so you can sleep.”

Son: “No.”

Mom: “Then go to bed, and don’t come down again.”

Two minutes later…

Mom: “Son! I said not to come down again!”

Daughter: “It’s me.”

Mom and Dad: “What are you doing out of bed?!”

Daughter: “I need ice. My knees and ankles hurt from ballet.”

Mom: “Why didn't you do it when you came home from ballet like I suggested? It’s 9:40! You need sleep! And I need to have some time with your Dad that doesn’t involve the two of you!”

Daughter: “But Mom, I’m just trying to do what you said to do when I hurt!”

Mom: Walking to the kitchen. “This is why I drink.”

End scene.

the Worst Tooth Fairy Ever

I am a “good enough parent,” but I am a really crappy tooth fairy. 

I forgot, again, last night. I think I have remembered once. Thank god it’s the older girl, and she knows it’s me, and she knows that I’ve had a lot on my mind. Oh, who am I kidding? She knows that I have no short-term memory anymore. I have been on Topamax for two years for headache prevention, and my medical friends jokingly refer to this as “dope-amax” because it makes you “stoopid.” I would have had to put a post-it on my bedroom door, and I didn’t.

But judging from some of the Facebook feeds I have seen from all of the other negligent fairies, I know it’s not just the medicine that affects me: it’s parenthood. It is freakin’ complicated, and our brains are on overload. When I was first pregnant and working full-time as a nurse, the memory dullness was just starting to affect me on the job. One of the older nurses said, “Oh honey, that’s just placenta brain. You’ll get used it.”

     “When does it go away?”

     “It doesn’t.”

I don’t think it has anything to do with chemistry, rather, it has to do with the sheer amount of information that we need to cram into our brains now that we have ourselves and dependent people to manage. With each added dependent, it gets worse.  Medical and dental appointments, field trip forms, haircuts, favorite flavors of chips, favorite colors, birthday parties, science fair projects, the list goes on and on. Add to that, reminders to keep good posture, drink enough fluids, not twist their arms around in their sockets, wear their orthotics, do their PT, take collagen supplements, wash their face and use moisturizer, floss, and 1,000 other things that we have to say and do to get these creatures socially acceptable by the time they are 18, and you’re fried.

When I first started taking the horrible drug, (can you believe some people take this for weight loss?) Life was very, very rough. When Mommy goes down, everybody goes down with her. I was a zombie for months, and I had to develop external coping skills really fast. The first thing I did was use my smart phone for everything: I used my calendar, and set reminders and alarms for all appointments. My iPhone screams at me all day long now. I also use a lot of physical reminders: there are post-its all around, and I painted a giant blackboard wall in my kitchen that my children call “Mommy’s brain.”

If we’re out of food, “put it on the wall.” If it's not on the wall, it doesn't happen. (Green tip: take a photo of your shopping list so you don't have to write it down). I made sure to reserve a section of the wall that I call “Caught being Awesome” where I note things they did well, because many days I feel like all I do is nag and yell (but none of you know what that’s like, right?)

In spite of all of these coping mechanisms, teeth are left under pillows. Forms are not signed. Appointments are missed. Relatives' birthdays are missed (that was fun…) I have had to learn to do two very important things:  

1. Learn how to give a really good apology. If you don’t know how to do this, there is actually a formula. In The Last Lecture, Randy Pausch describes “proper apologies have three parts: 1) What I did was wrong. 2) I’m sorry that I hurt you. 3) How do I make it better? It’s the third part that people tend to forget…. Apologize when you mess up and focus on other people, not on yourself.” I make my kids give good apologies every time – as Randy puts it, "a bad apology is like rubbing salt in the wound." And I model it by giving good apologies to them as fast as I can. Learning humility has been a hard, but rewarding, lesson for me.

2. Know that the mess ups are probably making your kids better people. This goes beyond forgiving yourself for messing up: it means embracing the mistakes as a necessary part of your kid’s healthy development. That is what it means to be a “good enough parent” and not a “perfect parent.” I remember the first time I really lost it with my first child, because she had pushed my buttons and I yelled at her. I cried to my friend, and he said, "It's better that she learn boundaries from the person who loves her more than anyone in the world, than from a world that doesn't love her at all." So, if you’re doing really well, and you have it all together, go screw up sometimes. It’s good for them.