Best Laid Plans... And Changed Plans

I'm in the thick of it with three tweens.

Back when tweendom was a far-off pipe dream, and I was drowning in the life of mothering three babies, then three toddlers, replete with diapers, naptimes, therapies, dirty clothes, dirty dishes, and a dirty house, the moms of older kids told me to "enjoy this time while they're young!" because "just wait until they get older - then life gets crazy!"

Huh? Life was already crazy. Surely, once the Age of Reason hits, my three kids would be easy! and fun! and cool!

And they are indeed fun and cool. But easy? Yes and no. As any parent of tweens knows, it's true you no longer need to feed, bathe, and change the kids. They've definitely mastered those tasks. But now we have negotiations (because, you see, they can talk in complete sentences now - and they've turned their finely-honed skills of argument and persuasion on you), opinions (about what to have for dinner, what to do with their time, what clothes to wear, what you do with your time, what you wear, what you say, etc.), and a social life.

It's par for the course. They're supposed to grow up, move on, look outward, think for themselves, socialize with peers. They're doing exactly what they're supposed to do, and exactly what we want them to do.

Ahhh, but here's the rub: At the ripe old ages of 12-3/4 and 11-1/2, they can't drive yet.

That's where I come in. I'm the chauffeur.

So this weekend was our typically busy weekend. I did a lot for my kids: hosted a sleepover for the twins, took my son clothes shopping (because, you know, when your 12-year-old boy who hates shopping tells you that he needs a few things, you drop everything and head to the mall!), did heaping loads of laundry, spent 2 hours ironing that laundry, took the girls to their riding lessons (that alone took a big chunk of the afternoon), took the girls to get haircuts, hosted friends (OK, that wasn't for the kids - that was for us, and it was so lovely to sit and sip wine with friends), and nagged - oops: "managed" - homework time and piano practice.

But what I really wanted to do this weekend, just for me, was attend the Kitchen and Bath show at the convention center downtown. Today was the last day of the event, and the only day it would fit in our schedule. We'll be building a new house in the coming year, and since it's been 12 years since we moved into this house, I'm in need of up-to-date ideas for the new place.

I even showered early and dressed all spiffy, even though it's Sunday and I usually get up early but hang out in my PJs at least until mid-morning, if not noon, on Sundays.

But, bless her heart, my sweet girl taught me to slow down and appreciate the more important things in life. She accomplished this by passing out right after I came downstairs, dressed and ready to go. The poor thing had been sitting on a counter stool in the kitchen. When I turned to look at her, I saw her hitting the hardwood floor (still not sure if that was her shoulder or her head that I heard). When we rolled her over, she didn't respond immediately. Instead, we were horrified to see her eyes rolling back in her head, her body limp and unresponsive.

When she came to, she had a headache (who wouldn't?) and was clearly disoriented and upset. This particular girl of mine doesn't cry or yell in a crisis: she becomes mute. We examined her body for cuts, bruises, or breaks, and found none. With effort, we got her to speak a few words and discovered the headache and a pretty bad stomachache from the trauma.

Eventually, after she'd been settled on the sofa with orange juice, Tylenol, and the remote control, most of the family members moved on with their plans. My husband and son headed to the football game for which they had tickets. The twin headed to a friend's house. I stayed home with my daughter. There's no place else I wanted to be at that moment.

After about three hours of lying around, she finally started to speak again. And she ate. A few minutes later, she got up from the couch and changed her clothes. The headache and stomachache were gone. I imagine she'll be a little stiff and sore tomorrow, but thankfully she's not seriously hurt.

The Kitchen and Bath show? I missed it. But despite the change in plans, I've had an unexpectedly enjoyable day hanging out with my daughter. While she recovered, I relaxed too. I haven't driven anyone anywhere. I've been here, all day, chillaxing (as my son would say).

Even though I was looking forward to going to that show, my daughter's fainting spell put life in perspective: We'll be able to design the new house despite the fact I did not get to see and touch those tiles and faucets and countertops at the show. There's more to life than kitchens and baths.

Much more, like: the health of my family, spending quiet time with my child, and the restorative powers of a Sunday afternoon nap.