When the kids were younger and life was simpler, I had a Sandra Boynton Mom’s datebook. There were clever cartoons on every other page, and there were fun, colorful stickers to mark birthdays, anniversaries, practices, games, and other significant life happenings. The book not only captured my family’s future events, when the year was done, it also served as a diary, a memento of the business and busyness of our lives.
Today keeping track of everyone’s comings and goings is nigh well impossible. It’s a good thing I am not a control freak because I would lose my mind if I even tried. First, Katie and Molly are both legally adults and have their own busy calendars to manage. Technically, though I have only one child at home to manage, his schedule is complex, and keeping track takes almost as much work as it used to with three.
Then there are the challenges of methodology. Out of habit, I still carry a datebook, though I have traded in the Boynton mom brand to a sophisticated Moleskine lavender hardcover. But then there’s the electronic calendar on my smartphone. It syncs up to my Outlook calendar at work, so I can keep track of meetings, but I have not gotten used to inputting family events. For that, I have the giant master calendar in my kitchen, on which I write down chorus concerts, lacrosse games, summer tournaments, doctors appointments, grooming for the dogs, and the like.
Sometimes I am at a loss when the air traffic controller in me wonders where I should write the information — on all three seems redundant and takes too much time and work, and yet, if I don’t, there will certainly be mix-ups. And then, even when I write the pertinent information on the right calendar — for family events, this is the master calendar in the kitchen — even then, there can be controversy.
Case in point: on a recent very busy morning, I checked our home E-mail to find a cheerful greeting from one of Bill’s poker buddies: Both dates work for me! There are about 10 suburban dads in Bill’s poker group. They gather once a month or every other month and play a friendly game, eat, drink, and make merry. The idea is to take turns hosting, retreating to safe haven in the man cave from the bustle and pressure of work and home.
It’s a great group of guys; I am genuinely fond of them, but on this particular morning, this particular E-mail infuriated me. I thought about whether that was the right word to use here. I considered annoyed, irritated, and angered, among others, but decided that infuriated actually best captured my reaction.
It wasn’t just that neither date that my husband had offered worked — April 18 is the prom and May 2 is the temple benefit. It was more that he had volunteered our home and his availability for both nights without the courtesy of checking in with me. Again, it’s not because I’m a control freak. It’s because Venus believes that it’s a tenet of Marriage 101 to check in with your spouse before hosting a party in your home, and even more so at this time of year that is a minefield of tournaments, proms, weddings, communions, and graduations — including that of our own daughter from college.
I thought briefly about hitting “Reply All” with a terse “neither date works” — but then thought better of it. (Why embarrass my poor sweetie on a group E-mail when I have a column that will do a better job? Actually, Bill is a great sport when it comes to this column, especially when we have moved on to a point where we can laugh about transgressions like this.)
Instead, I hit just “Reply” with the same message, along with a terse: “Good rule of thumb: check in with me when you’re trying to set dates.” He replied, with a Mars-toned response: “Good rule of thumb: let me know about my availability.”
Any good Venus can anticipate how I reacted to that. Not well. Did he not know to check the master family calendar? Did he not know where it has been hanging in our house pretty much since the day we had kids? Did he not know that if he did not wish to ask me directly, he could go to that calendar for quick reference before he issued an invitation on which he would have to back pedal?
Now I was really worked up and incensed. Those who know me might say I was overreacting, but my ire was based on the fact that these rules were SOP — standing operating procedure — in our house. Then, to add fuel to the fire, my darling of 25-plus years asked me to come up with alternative good dates in May.
There are no good dates in May, I pointed out, I thought, fairly reasonably. Check the calendar. Then, less reasonably, I declared, “and there are no good dates in the near future either.”
Like the saga of my stuck rings, this is a story that is continuing to unfold. Will Mars win over Venus and her stubborn and bossy ways and get to host poker after all? (He did just host six months ago.) Will Venus continue with her iron hand over the roost or relent, showing her sweet, accommodating side and let the games begin and the good times roll? As they say on TV, stay tuned for the next episode.
