Yesterday was a normal day. There was school and speech therapy, lunch, school programs and the day I gave Alex away.
The 6 year age difference between my children is as volatile as any age difference can be. There is always screaming and crying, fighting and tattling. With discreet awareness, my children wait until I answer the phone to circle me like a tribe of Indians, yelling at the top of their lungs. I have had to apologize to tenants, realtors, friends, businesses and my mother for the extreme decibals that prohibit normal conversation often leading me to take refuge in a locked bathroom or out on the porch. The little suckers follow me though...everywhere I go. Peaceful moments in my house are at a scarce minimum.
With this in mind, don't be too harsh in your judgement of my actions yesterday. My mom came to get Alex from school like she does every Thursday so that William and I can go to speech therapy. Usually they get ice cream and go to our house to play until Will and I get there. Yesterday, she asked if she could take Alex on a visit to a friend and then home to her house. He ended up spending the night because Addison had a school function that lasted late into the evening. The plan was to just meet back at school the next day, her with Alex, me with Will.
Now, what I told Addison and what started as a sort of jest, turned into a completely different story that went something like this.
Driving home in the car,"Mom, where's Alex?"
"He's at Grandma's house."
"Are we going to go get him tonight?"
"No. Alex is going to live with Grandma now." (This was a flippant comment that I was sure she would know I was kidding....but she didn't)
A panicked look overtook her face.
"But Mom, Alex can't go live with Grandma...he's our family."
"Well, Grandma is family and you and he fight so much. Like you said, He is fire and you are gasoline. When the two of you get together all you do is argue and fight and cry and scream. It's literally driving me crazy and if it doesn't stop, I'm going to be sent to the looney bin. So, we decided it would be best if Alex lived with Grandma."
This is where my story was ingested completely and tears fall down my daughters face.
The only reason I kept going with this is the fact that she actually cared enough to cry. For this child who is usually so mean and uncaring to her brother, it was nice to see her show emotion and sadness for his absence.
We pulled into the yard and went into the house. I managed to get into the house before her and quickly told Michael the slight mess that I had just gotten myself into. I may have been called terrible in a laughing...I can't believe you did that...sort of way. I may have started feeling a little regretful about the whole charade. However, I was in too deep now to just back out. Addison would never believe a word I said again. So with Michael's help, we fashioned a quick plan to help use this as a teaching experience.
Addison came inside and went straight upstairs to shower. As Michael and I were talking in the living room, I heard this wailing. It was my girl in total lament and crying her eyes out. My entire being shrunk in my chair. Maybe I had gone too far.
After the shower we called Addison into our room for a family meeting where we discussed if it was possible to have Alex "move back home."
After much discussion and several assurances from her that she would do her best to change her relationship with him, we decided not to give Alex away.
This morning: "Mom. Alex doesn't know what has happened does he?"
"No darlin'. He just thinks he was visiting Grandma."
"O.K."
I seriously don't know if I have scarred her or gotten through to her. One can only hope the entire experience helped.
In the least, I expect 20 years from now to be sitting around the Thanksgiving table and Addison say, "Mom - remember that day you gave Alex away?" And then we will laugh. I hope.
