(rated PG)
Kids lose stuff. The sooner you accept it, the sooner
you can reclaim your sanity, writes
Orla Breeze
.
Lost and found
I
knew motherhood would involve
plenty of role-playing. Taxi driver, social
planner, chef, homework inspector
and even cheerleader were all parts
I expected, but logistics supervisor was
a role I definitely was
not
planning on.
Item location, relocation and the myriad
of questions on the topic has got to be
one of the most annoying aspects of
parenthood. Where’s my football? Where
have you put my schoolbag? Who do my
kids think I am, their own personal Google?
I desperately want a robot to come
live with us and spend its days and nights
obsessively cataloguing everything we
own. I want it to use its little robotic claw
hands to stick a tracking device on each
and every item and spend its entire
lifespan locating them when they go
“missing”. And, yes, the constant sound
of its whirrs and clicks might eventually
grate on my nerves, but nowhere near
as much as those endless questions on
where my kids’ belongings have gone,
which are usually framed in the following
four frustrating ways:
Querying an item’s location without even
looking for it
Child:
Mum! Mum! MUM!!
Me:
Yes?
Child:
Where’s my school shirt?
Me:
Is it in your wardrobe?
Child:
I don’t know.
Me:
Have you looked?
Child:
No.
Looks in wardrobe
. Oh, it’s
here.
Me:
Grrrrrrr!
Blaming parent for misplacement of item
Child:
Mum, where have you put my
bag?
Me:
I haven’t put it anywhere.
Child:
Whining
, But I gave it to you on
Tuesday, where did you put it?
Me:
Nowhere. You didn’t give it to me.
Child:
Ear-splitting whining
, BUT I DID!!! Oh,
hang on, found it.
Me:
Where?
Child:
Nervous laughter
. I forgot I left it
under my bed.
Me:
Oh, you forgot? Hmm. Grrrrrrrrrrrr!!!
Moving parental items without permission
Me:
Where’s my phone?
Child:
Deathly silence
Me:
Where’s my phone? It was in my bag
but seems to have walked itself out of it.
Child:
Nervous laughter
. Ha ha, that’s
funny.
Me:
No, it’s not. I need it.
Child:
Oh, well, I’m sure it’ll turn up.
Me:
Oh, you are, are you? Hang on,
what’s that behind your back?
Child:
Nothing.
Me:
Show me!!
Child:
Oh, it’s your phone.
Drops phone,
runs like the wind
.
Me:
GRRRRRRRRRRRRR!
Relocating items intended for the
following day
Me:
Where are the clothes that I left on
your bed?
Child:
What clothes?
Me:
The ones that were laid out on your
bed for the wedding tomorrow.
Child:
I don’t know.
Me:
What do you mean, you don’t
know? There was a full set of clothes on
the bottom of your bed. How could they
just disappear?
Child:
Oh, them! I, eh, threw them in the
laundry.
Me:
You did whaaaaaaat??! GRRRR and
double-GRRRRRRRRR!
I read somewhere that losing things
is developmentally appropriate for kids –
that they are so busy dealing with actual
physical growth that remembering where
they’ve left something is not exactly a
priority. And although that makes a kind
of sense to me, it doesn’t really solve the
problem. So I guess that leaves us with
two options. Option one: the robot, or
option two: acceptance.
Option one involves waiting for
someone to develop and market the
logistics robot. Considering we’re only at
the stage where robots can just about
vacuum the floor without maiming a cat,
this could be a very long wait.
Option two doesn’t involve any
waiting, but does involve a change in
perspective. If we simply accept that
logistics just ain’t a child’s game, we
stop expecting them to keep track of
their things. And if we don’t expect them
to keep track of their things, we don’t
get so annoyed when they don’t. That
significantly reduces the opportunity for
irritation. And less irritation equals, yes,
you’ve guessed it, an altogether much
calmer parent.
I know which option I’m moving
towards.
24
Playtimes
