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Welcome to familywisdom.com, a website dedicated to informing and inspiring couples and families. Each week you will find a new article, story or essay about parenting, marriage or life. Suggestions for articles and questions to Ellen Terich are welcome. You can contact her at e.terich1@verizon.net |
A SEASON OF WATER 2005-01-11 It's been raining for five straight days, and before that, with just a few days respite, there was more rain. Sean and Grace, like all children in Southern California, have been cooped up with their mother, getting crankier and crankier as they try to get over their Christmas colds. Rain is such an odd thing in Southern California. Either we have none for years, prompting officials to warn of water shortages and drought, or we have too much, causing flash flooding and the collapse of water logged hillsides. Then, of course, after the rain we watch the vegetation grow monstrously thick and tall in preparation for the season of fire, which will devour it all. In the meantime, water which is usually such a source of pleasure and fun for kids, from splashing in a bubble bath to running through sprinklers and jumping in the kiddy pool, has become a source of torture. Sean and Grace cannot run outside and get rid of their pent up energy; they can't see the sun or feel its warmth; they can't swing or slide or ride their tricycles. And they are slowly driving their mother batty. On the first day of the rain she got out reams of white tissue paper and showed them how to make "snowballs" which they threw at each other in a mock snowball fight. Sean decided it was essential to use the remaining tissue paper to build a "snowman" which they did, complete with raisin buttons and carrot nose. (Check out www.terich.org to see pictures.) The second day they played games and watched videos, as she used up boxes of tissues to wipe their runny noses. By the third day they were running out of ideas and Sean was getting ornery. He teased his 18 month old sister Grace by putting his toy ax (from his tin man Halloween costume) under the runners of her rocking horse so she could not rock. Not one to be pushed around, she yelled at him: "No Seany. No, no, no Seany." And he just smiled a devilish little smile until his mother came over and stopped him. Grace, on the other hand, climbed up on the dining room table while her mother was putting clothes in the washing machine, poured out the salt shaker and dismantled what was left of the gingerbread house. (She had been climbing up on the table and eating the gum drops off the roof for days.) By the fourth day, even the ants who lived outside had had enough of the rain and decided to come inside where it was dry. Sean noticed them first and informed his mother that they had visitors. The rest of the day was spent keeping the kids and ants separated. The rain is supposed to let up today, but the ground is still too soggy to play on. The kids will probably be indoors for a few more days, but the appearance of the sun will put everyone in a better mood, provided no more storms are on the horizon. At times like this, when it is easy to let cabin fever get the better of you and feel sorry for yourself, mothers all over Southern California only have to think of the mothers and children in South Asia. Those who survived a much more tragic encounter with water are now living in refugee camps, most of them with fewer family members than they had a few weeks ago and all of them having lost their possessions. And all this with the sun shining and temperatures in the eighties. In light of this tragedy, the prolongued and frustrating rainy season takes on a different dimension. I hope the beleaguered mothers of the Golden State, who no doubt are griping and complaining to each other and losing patience with their kids, take a moment to realize how fortunate they are to have their runny-nosed, but otherwise healthy children driving them crazy inside their warm, though ant-infested homes. |