It seems to me that telephone use and/or important work of any kind must give off some kind of high frequency pitch that only dogs and children can hear. Dogs, because dogs seem to be able to hear things of this nature. Kids, because well, have you ever answered an important phone call or tried to work on the computer in the close vicinity of a child?
The idea of this high frequency pitch has been tickling the back of my brain for a while now. Each time I spend the better half of the morning wasting time on Facebook, perusing around the house doing not much of anything or say, watch a show on Netflix, the kids seem to forget about me altogether. “Mama who?” I can usually get one and a half episodes of Orange is the New Black in before one of them are telling me they’re hungry- and that is just short of a miracle because recently they seem to be a never-ending chasm of consumption. I can walk past the bedroom where they play 27 times before they note my presence and begin questioning what I am doing. There was this one time I read an entire short story without having to break once- that was one in a million however.
Yet as soon as my body gets close to a telephone or laptop it is all, “Mama, I’m hungry.” “Mama, I’m bored.”
Today we had a fabulous day. We woke up and I got in a quick work-out while the kiddies ate their breakfast and watched Pokémon. We then got ourselves readied in our finest threads and met some friends for lunch at the local Boston Pizza. I had the roasted peach and beat salad and it was the most fabulous salad I have ever put in my mouth. Throughout lunch the kids were angels. Well as close to angles as kids can be. There may have been some crawling around on the floor and table licking going on but we can’t ask for the world right?!
After our outing we took the dog for a walk and enjoyed the beautiful sunshine. Oh we laughed and talked and laughed some more. It was a glorious afternoon filled with magical moments.
It was when we got home that things took a hairy turn for the worst.
I was prepping for dinner when the phone rang. It was my sister-in-law Ashley. The kids seemed occupied with a game of Monopoly for the moment so I believed I was safe to answer. As it generally happens we had become engrossed in our conversation and as usual at the worst possible time Sophie decided to begin screaming at the top of her lungs. I had no idea though what she was screaming about. There were no tears visible and she was not physically hurt. I gave her one of the silent but deadly arm waves accompanied with the famous mom fiery eyes.
The sheer terror of the mom fiery eyes would stop Lars in a jiffy but not Soph- never Soph. She barreled through my obstinate waving and continued to scream that she was hungry. Or maybe it was that Lars called her a tattletale. Possibly she had lost her sparkly Sophia the First lip-gloss and thought I had stolen it from her. Who really knows with that kid?
I eventually had to tell Ashley I would let her go because I know better than anyone how annoying it is trying talk to someone on the phone when there is some little brat in background ranting and raving.
After hanging up I explain to the girl that it is unacceptable to scream at me when I’m on the phone and unless it is an emergency she can wait until I am done. I realize as she is walking away though that her emergency and mine are probably very different circumstances.
When it isn’t Sophie it is Lars. The boy has learnt that attempting to get my attention while on the phone is not a wise decision- he probably considers it child’s play. His aim is to bombard me each and every time I open my laptop to get some work done. It is like he knows the difference between screwing around on the web and being on a roll with a great set of prose. He always chooses to find me when I am smack dab in the middle of the latter. So quite some time ago the decision to leave work to the early morning hours or long after the children’s bedtime was made.
I’m pretty sure I’m on to something with the high frequency pitch of a phone or laptop but even if I am what are you going to do?
I suppose at this point in the parenting game it is a matter of sitting back and appreciating the time we do have with those special little humans. While secretly dreaming of the day when we will not have to lock ourselves in the bathroom for two minutes of peaceful telephone time.