Mixing things up

Every house has a routine. Every family has a routine. The husband does a few things, the wife does a few; and the daily grind goes on, like clockwork. So long as everyone sticks to their jobs, and does them perfectly, things go right. Kids reach school on time, adults get to work on time, and all is right with the world.

Of course, as simple as it sounds, it also sometimes gets monotonous with everyone just doing ‘the same old.’ And every once in a while, the thought does occur – what if, say, one day the husband did the cooking and the wife drove the kids to school?

Wouldn’t it be great to just drive, with songs on, drop the kids, and on the way back, listen to one’s favourite songs? Ah, what a blissful hour that would be! What’s more, there would be hot breakfast ready, thanks to the husband who would have been busy in the kitchen while the wife was out driving and listening to songs – I mean, dropping the kids to school…

And then, some days, the smooth clockwork routine, actually does get disturbed. When someone is sick, say (although it is more of a luxury to fall sick, in a house with kids running around). Or when someone travels on work.

Like the other day, when I got to do my dream run of the morning school drop!

Yay, I thought. The songs, the drive, may be even a quick coffee grabbed on my way back! And I was all excited!

Early in the morning, when the husband left for the airport, I was up too! So I could have everything done in the kitchen before the little one woke up. The day started on a good note, as the early hour meant that I could actually make myself a cup of coffee and drink it in peace before the mad morning rush began. It is all about timing, you see?

So, I had managed the timing well and everything was going fine. I had just finished my coffee and made breakfast and was applying finishing touches to lunch, when the little one called out from his room. Ooh, this was going to be an awesome day! I was so excited! But on entering the little one’s room, I saw him sitting up in bed, in tears.

(A note to all the mothers or stay-at-home parents here: when the other parent travels, you are in for double duty. Both physical, and emotional. And while the physical can be managed, it is the emotional that is the tricky part). 

So, coming back to that day – the little one had woken up in tears. And of course, did not want to go to school! (Eye roll!) What is the point? He asked me with a sad face. Why go to school when Dad is travelling? (Huh!) Most periods will be free periods anyway, as our teachers need to prepare for the annual show tomorrow! (Okay, I get that) I’d rather sit at home and play video games! (What?) Because Dad’s travelling! (Oh my god!)…  

And so on and on it went, until it was about fifteen minutes for us to leave home. By now I was desperate. I was so looking forward to that drive! With the songs! Can you imagine the joy, of being able to listen to songs in your air-conditioned car, on the way back home from the school drop in the morning rush, when all around you, people rush to get to work urgently?! *Sigh*

And so, I tried everything I could, to make the little one agree to go to school. I said it was Friday already, and that the weekend was already here! And that if most periods in school were going to be free anyway, then it made more sense to go to school than stay at home (and be a cog in my wheel. Although I didn’t say that.) But nothing really worked. So finally, I had to threaten him with dire consequences; and with ten minutes to spare, the boy finally left the bed! (Yay, for small victories in life!)

~~~~~

We hit the road fifteen minutes behind schedule. (That is, fifteen minutes later than the time when the husband and the boy leave home every day.) And I was already cursing under my breath. Somehow, we managed to drive pretty fast most of the way, weaving through morning traffic; and I slowly began to relax as we neared the school. But there, suddenly, we encountered a m*r*n riding his bike right in front of our car, doing wheelies, going this way and that, neither letting me overtake, nor giving me way…

And that was when the most colourful, choicest of words left my mouth. I saw the little one wince in the passenger seat, and give me a smile that said, “… and I thought you were doing so well!” and I apologised.

(Because even if you are a parent and an adult, you must apologise to your children when you say colourful words in their presence. They need to know this isn’t right. And that while you couldn’t control yourself in the heat of the moment, you still regret having used them.)

So we finally reached school ahead of time. Thanks to some of my awesome speed driving skills and also thanks to the fact that we didn’t dawdle, we didn’t waste time chatting… Come to think of it, we hardly spoke. I was busy negotiating traffic and the boy, well, am not sure he was fully awake anyway…

I spent most of my drive back home thinking about how much of a contrast today would’ve been for the boy. Forgotten were the songs I was so keen to listen to – I mean, I did put them on, but my mind wasn’t on them anymore. I was thinking of the drive to school today.  

You see, the husband, with his busy schedule, only gets the morning time with kiddo, and makes the most of it. They chat, I have heard, about a lot of things on their way. They also exchange news (both crazy about news and facts), and listen to some awful (read rock) songs on their way to school; and here I was, on my one day to drop him to school, all quiet and silent and concentrating on the road because we were late.

I also found myself appreciating the husband’s patience in tricky vehicular situations on the road (thinking about the moron with the bike). And I hoped, that he (the husband, not the moron) must have missed my excellent (!) cooking when sampling the drab and tasteless breakfast on the flight… I was hoping that just as I was missing him, and realising the small little things that he does that go a long, long way; somewhere, he too, was missing me on his busy workday in a different, unfamiliar city.  

And I thought, sometimes, maybe it does make sense to mix things up this way. Do what someone else usually does. Let the duties get all muddled up. Only then, will we learn to appreciate and realise the value of each other.

Maybe a husband trying to cater to children’s every demand and listen to all that they have to say, calmly, patiently, the way the wife does; will be more likely then, to find himself marvelling at the wife’s ability to ‘listen’; or the wife, driving the kids to school in the crazy morning rush hour, biting down the most colourful, choicest words that come to her mind when negotiating the traffic; will be more like likely to appreciate the husband’s patience and driving skills.

It helps enhance mutual respect and appreciation in a relationship; and while love and mutual trust are the two solid pillars on which a relationship is balanced, it is this little mixing up, that can go a long way in strengthening these pillars and keeping the relationship interesting. Just like a tastefully mixed up cocktail that entices our senses and keeps things interesting. Or a beautiful painting that comes to life with all the beautiful colours that are mixed up in it…  

What do you think? Does it make sense to mix things up, a little?