Middle Age

BY J.B. COLLUM

There is an old analogy about a frog in boiling water. In short, it claims that if you put a frog in a pot of room temperature water, and slowly bring it to a boil, he won’t notice until he has gotten so hot that he will be unable to jump out of the water, and so he dies. Well, first of all, that would be really cruel. If you want frog legs to eat, there are better, more humane ways to go about it. I will get around to how this applies in this case, but you might guess it along the way. Does that mean we can call this a murder mystery? No, but only because nobody has died. Yet.

We took a camping trip last week to Elijah Clark State with some friends who camped in the spot right next to us and we had a great time together despite weather not knowing if it wanted to be spring or winter.

We had a good fire going most of the time and we brought warm clothes, so we were fine. My friend Chuck made an observation though. He was concerned about the toll that raising young children was taking on us. I agreed that it had been hard on us and even threw out the famous line from Lethal Weapon when Danny Glover, as the character Roger Murtaugh, said something about being too old for this. He was referring to the strain on his mind and body from the hijinks that he and his partner were involved in as they tried to catch the bad guys. In our case, it is trying to keep up with the varied needs of our three grandchildren while we are in middle age.

The kids range in age from 5 to 13. Two girls and one boy. The 5-year-old girl is also a special needs child. If I haven’t already told you, she has done thousands of dollars in damage to our house and its contents in the few months they have been living with us. That causes a lot of stress and strain in itself. The oldest girl, the teenager, is, well, a teenager. I will just leave it at that. And then we have the boy, the middle child of age 10.

The 5-year-old has to be watched as if you are a military sentry. You cannot, under any circumstances, take your eyes off her for more than a few seconds at a time. It amazes me that in less time than some folks take to blink, this tiny kid can go from lying under a blanket on the sofa to any number of dangerous or destructive acts. I have literally looked away for a few seconds only to look up and see her straddling the TV and banging on the screen. At other times I will catch her peeling the leather off a piece of furniture and I can’t get to her in time to stop her from putting it in her mouth. The good news is that I have learned that this means she is hungry. The bad news is that she is the pickiest eater since the dawn of man. What she likes today has little to no resemblance to what she liked yesterday, or even an hour ago. There are a few things that she will always eat, but if we only fed her that she wouldn’t get the nutrition she needs, so we struggle with trying to get her to eat a balanced diet. By the way, if she doesn’t like something, there is no mystery. She just throws it on the floor, or at you. Or she might start pinching or scratching you.

Her sleep habits are affected by the mental issues she is dealing with too. It is difficult to get her to sleep when she should, and sometimes she just decides she wants to sleep a few hours before her bedtime. When that happens we know that she will awaken in the wee hours of the morning, making enough racket to wake the dead, which is really bad because we live next door to a graveyard. From all of this you can understand how stressful it is to have to keep up with her 24 hours a day. My oldest daughter, Kate, their aunt, is amazing, and if it wasn’t for her, we couldn’t do this at all, as she takes on most of the responsibility. My lovely wife carries most of the remainder of the burden, if I am being honest.

And now we return to our analogy. Chuck noticed that my wife’s hair was showing a lot more gray than the last time they saw us. I hadn’t noticed since I am with her all of the time. But once he said that I took a look and thought about it and realized that he was right. It has given me a lot to think about and I am trying to come up with ways to take care of our obligation as grandparents while not killing and bankrupting ourselves in the bargain. I haven’t figured it out yet, but we are working on it. For one thing, we are trying to find activities and equipment that will allow us to not need to be as watchful. My wife bought a small trampoline yesterday that has a net enclosure and the door zips up so she can’t get out too fast without us realizing it. We are hoping that helps some. That said, on her first use of it she bit into and ripped out several pieces of the foam covering on the poles that hold up the net. It took us a few seconds to get in there to stop her, so her brand new trampoline now is adorned with a lot of duct tape, and I see more in its future. I have also ordered her a special musical keyboard designed for very young children that is supposed to be indestructible and yet full featured to allow her room to grow. It also sneaks in lessons beyond music, like the ABCs, colors, animals, etc. It is only available in Japan, so we will be waiting a few weeks for that. I did this because it seems like music soothes her. And she likes to bang on my musical equipment, so I want to give her an alternative.

I am going to do something selfish now and ask for help. If any of my readers have faced a situation like this regarding raising children and especially special needs children, especially while older, please share by emailing me at the address listed at the bottom of the column. I promise not to spam you or sell your email address. Well, unless they offer me at least a million dollars, but I don’t think you need to worry. I look forward to hearing from you. Thanks in advance.

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WELL PLAYED A few years ago I had to go to the pharmacy and my doctor was right next door, so I thought I’d pop in and make an appointment instead of calling. The receptionist told me they don’t take walk-ins — but I didn’t want an appointment anyway — and they only make appointments over the phone. So I stood there, got my phone out, and called the number for the office. The phone was sitting right next to her. I made eye contact with her the whole time as she answered the phone and booked my appointment.

J.B. Collum is a local novelist, humorist and columnist who wants to be Mark Twain when he grows up. He may be reached at johnbcollum@ gmail.com