Breeding & Its Discontents

[mallorys_camera]

My mother-in-law worried about Robin and the Amish sawmill. Lew, Ben's brother, needed to pick up some wood for the bunkhouse building project; he wanted Robin to tag along. But Nancy was afraid Robin would make fun of the guys with the scraggly sideburns and funny hats.

“Not to worry, Mom,” Ben told her on the phone. “Robin's seen Kingpin at least twenty times. He's a great admirer of the Amish.”

Being unfamiliar with the oeuvre of the Farrelly Brothers, this reference was lost on Nancy.

I laughed though.

Robin is back in Pennsylvania for the next six weeks. This is a Good Thing because it now allows me to focus twenty-four hours a day on the DiLucchio Hot Sauce fortunes instead of the 23.5 hours I was spending due to the fact that half an hour a day had to be devoted to issues like “Has the kid eaten yet?” and “Will the kid going to grow up to be a serial killer because he's spending his entire summer vacation playing Grand Theft Auto?”

It's odd having two children. I love them both the same. But Max feels more like a solo production - I was a more conscientious parent with Max, I put my very definite ideas about childrearing into effect with him, hence he reflects more of my intent.

Ben was always Robin's chief caregiver. This is because shortly after I gave birth to Robin, it became apparent that Ben is incapable of contributing to the family's financial status in any meaningful fashion. It was up to me to get out there and hustle. This didn't leave a whole lot of time for supervising the evening bath or reading bedtime stories.

Has Robin suffered?

I wonder.

Ben is a doting caregiver, but a very laissez-faire caregiver. Robin eats vast amounts of candy and other sweets, he routinely stays up till eleven o'clock at night. Last year, when his teacher, Mr. Bailey, kept sending home notes complaining that Robin seemed unfocused in class, that he acted silly and inappropriate, that his work was chaotic and unpredictable - sometimes excellent, way above his grade level; most times, not - I knew it was because Robin was eating too much sugar and wasn't getting enough sleep.

Did I step in? Not really. I mean, I bitched at Ben. But assuming yet another job - Bedtime Enforcer! - no. That was too much work. I'm already over-extended.

Once upon a time, Nancy and I used to fight quite a bit. I think she found me too flamboyant, too theatrical. She rejoiced in my misfortunes, a little old-fashioned that one needed taking down a peg. To be fair, she doesn't do it anymore but I distinctly remember a remark she hurled at me in the midst of some argument we had a few years back: “You should appreciate what you have! If it weren't for Ben, you wouldn't be free to pursue that important career you love so much.”

At the time I think I may have been working for People Magazine which was actually fun though it was another one of those twenty hours a day gigs. Still, my mouth fell open. I have never wanted a career. I have always wanted to sit twenty-four hours a day in front of an open window with my eyes slightly unfocused, occasionally noodling a well-turned phrase in a notebook.

The things we want. The things we get.