Marriage Woes

The title of this blog post is Marriage Woes -- Toby’s – not mine.  What 6 year old has MARRIAGE woes?  As it turns out, my serious little 6 year old does.  Driving him to school yesterday we were riding along in silence, listening to the radio when out of the blue Toby piped up with his confession,

“Well, Mommy, I’ve decided who I’m going to marry.” He said matter-of-factly.

“Oh?” I asked noting his determined crossed-arm stance in the back seat.

“I’m just gonna have to go with Sienna T.  She’s my second choice.”

That single statement contained a surprising amount of information in it.  It also begged a number of different questions.  I stammered a bit, not knowing where to start.

“OK…hmm…” I said.  “So who was your first choice?”

A quiet despondent voice answered in barely a whisper.

“Erin.”

After a pause came the qualification, “And SHE doesn’t want to marry ME.”

It was so ludicrously irrational yet simultaneously heartbreaking that I didn’t really know which angle to tackle it from.  I started in on a little speech on the importance of NOT settling but quickly changed gears to a more realistic take on the matter.

“Toby, you’re not even ALLOWED to get married for YEARS and YEARS.  By the time you actually WANT to get married you will probably have found someone you don’t even know yet.  Look at me and daddy-  we didn’t meet each other until later on in our 20s. “

His jaw hit the floor.  (He thinks I’m ancient.)

Besides, you change your mind all the time.  Right now your first choice is Erin but do you know that 2 years ago you wanted to marry Connor?

“WHAT!?!?!?!?!” came the shocked response from the back seat. “That’s CRAZY!!!”

Now I was the one who was heartbroken.  All of my hard work to raise my kid thinking same sex marriage was equal to the other kind and already a few years at school had beaten it out of him. Besides, we just love Connor and his family– it seemed like a good idea to me, too at the time :)

Toby said just what I thought he would say next, “Mommy, YUCK,  I do NOT want to marry Connor anymore.”

“But why?”  I pressed the used.

“BECAUSE.” He said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, “if I married Connor we wouldn’t be able to have babies and I REALLY want to have babies.”

I was grateful that it was at least a practical opposition as I informed him that he could adopt a baby.  He thought about this for a bit before flooring me with the BIG one,

“Mommy…” he said pensively, “I just don’t get it.  How do two guys DO it when they get married?”

I had no one to blame but myself.  I was starting to sweat.  My mouth was dry.  My heart rate shot up to 200.  Was this it?  Was THIS the day we were going to have THE big talk?  Was I really going to have to explain sex AND homosexual sex all together in the same conversation when I had only 2 blocks to go before we got to school?

In a last ditch escape attempt I meekly clarified what exactly he meant by “do it”.

“You know, like, when they get married?  What do they do?  Does one of them wear a DRESS?  And how do they decide which has to wear the dress?”

OH THANK GOD.  I suddenly got where he was coming from - he was trying to picture him and joe BFF Connor duking it out at the alter over which one of them had to wear the dress...

“Suits!!! They both wear suits, Toby.”

We pulled into school and I regained enough composure to put my Mommy hat back on.  I told him that things would look very differently down the road.  And that you didn’t have control over who you fall in love with and as he gets older he may fall in love with a woman OR a man; he would just have to wait and see.  I reminded him that it’s a wonderful thing that happens  in whatever way it unfolds and that it can lead you to places you never even imagined….

“Like to where, Mommy?” He asked as I put the car in park.

“Like to you, Toby…”

 He didn’t get if, of course. But I did.  Everything that means anything has led me to him and Mia.  I left him at school that day feeling heartbroken for his Erin woes, but smugly satisfied that I had surpassed that awful stage in life where you constantly worry about who or IF you’re going to find someone.  If only I had had a crystal ball those times in high school and university when I worried so much that I wasn’t making the right choice, or I wasn’t going to find “Mr. Right”.  One glimpse at my earnest little boy in the backseat would have reminded me that life is good and the journey has meaning and that all will be right in the end….

Toby and Connor at the soccer carnival last year -- Dressed as (Saber toothed) Tigers, of course...

Guided Imagery Exercises

I have spent the past few days attending a Pediatric Palliative Care Conference, learning both the wonderful and the horrific.  One of the most interesting skills I was taught was that of guided imagery, where you talk a child through an uncomfortable episode or procedure by asking them to close their eyes and go to their happy place, and then asking them questions about this place.

Toby, who is really into his bedtime relaxation CD, was the perfect kid to test this out on.  Tonight’s bedtime presented the ideal opportunity; the power had gone out and as we lay in the dark together in bed I took my first shot at it.  Trying my hardest to emulate the peaceful, hushed voice of my mentor, I quietly asked Toby where he would like to go if he could pick anywhere in the world.

He chose an airplane.  Seat 13A beside the window, coach class, en route to Australia.

“GOOD GOD!!!  I hope I’m not on it!” I exclaimed, breaking my own spell of tranquility. 

“Oh you ARE, Mommy, you’re sitting right next to me.”

Awesome.  The middle seat.  And who was to my right, I asked?  You guessed it: Mia.

What seemed to be Toby’s ultimate fantasy was fast turning into my worst nightmare.

It got worse.

We were watching cartoons; Toopy and Beenoo to be exact.  If I was put to death in a slow hell of torture I’m sure Toopy and Beenoo would be there in some capacity.   I was also SURROUNDED by plane food and APPLE juice.  The only smells I was granted was that of the plane food and the apple juice and the sounds I heard were of WHOOSHING air because one of the windows was open.

HOLY SHIT!!!!

But the seats were comfortable.  They felt soft and mushy.  (Which I’m sure would do wonders for Rob’s back after the full 22 hours it would take to get to Australia.)

OH, wait, I stand corrected.  The flight would take precisely 19 hours according to my know-it-all-story teller.

I stopped my worst nightmare (aka Toby’s ultimate relaxation fantasy) before anyone had to use the air-sickness bag and suggested we had done enough guided relaxation for the evening.

“But wait! “ Toby had yet another brainwave, “Mommy now it’s YOUR turn.  Close your eyes and tell ME where you want to go.”

Things were looking up.

I was on a beach.  The sand was warm beneath my fingertips and I was sitting beside my two girlfriends from the UK whose companionship I am constantly craving…we were sitting under the hot sun and…

“WHO were you watching?”

I was REALLY tempted to be watching some hot young (maybe Australian?) surfer dude but I resigned myself to the answer my guide so desperately wanted to hear.

“I was watching you, Toby.  You and Mia were playing in the sand building sand castles.”

DAMN!  And just like that my perfect idyllic fantasy was shattered.  I was about to make up for it by placing a very competent grandmother or nanny beside them when my guide interrupted me.

Suddenly excited and with a burst of energy, Toby sat up in bed.  “Mommy!  Do you know what happened next?”

(I leaned over and took a sip of my beer?)

“NO, what happened next, Toby?”

“You were suddenly VERY hungry, so you went to go get something to eat so you left everyone and had to SQUEEEZE through the trees – SQUEEZE your stomach in,

I was about to protest- this was NOTHING like how my mentor had done it this morning…there was no sucking your stomach in – and he CERTAINLY wasn’t sitting up in my face YELLING out my guided imagery exercises to me.  But my guide kept going,

“And you go to get food and you realize you have NO MONEY!!!! So you go back to where you came from and – SQUEEEZE your stomach, Mommy, SQUEEEEEZE through the trees  - EVERYONE is gone!  You panic!  You look around and can’t find your money but you find your pants!  And you find your wallet is GONE but you have money in your pants so you go back and you - SQUEEEEEZE through the trees, Mommy, SQUEEEZE  -- finally get back to the food stand!!!  And you buy…”

There was a pause long enough for me to regain some control…

“A margarita and French fries?”

Toby was lying back down again at this point, exhausted from coaching me through those damn skinny trees.

“Yes…” he said softly with his eyes closed, ”…with ketchup.”

I think I may wait a bit before trying my hand at guided imagery with any of my patients.  Attending a conference on pediatric palliative care was tiring and emotionally draining, but toping it off with an airplane ride to Australia and the panic of skinny trees and lost wallets pushed me over the edge.    And remind me NEVER to go on vacation with Toby.  Ever.