Saturday, August 23, 2008
We're not "Carnies". We prefer the term "Circus Folk"
I've said it before, my home feels like a circus most days...my husband and I transient shift workers, coming and going at all hours. Loading and unloading our children into the roller coaster we call a minivan. Anyone who has experienced my driving can attest to the roller coaster comparison...although I guess roller coasters would be more of a carnival or fair thing, than circus-y...but we do have hyper children screaming, and whining for treats, so I guess a carnival isn't too far off either. But still, the circus is the best way I can think of to describe my household. So I was thinking I could take this metaphor a bit farther and introduce you to my family, although my profile has already touched on it.
My wonderful husband...as much as I want to tell you all he's the ring-master, if I had to pick a single title...I think that I picture him more as the strong man. He is the head of the household, but he's a fairly quiet, shy guy, so the title of ring-master seems a little off. But, "Strong Man", that seems perfect. He's great at opening jars and lifting heavy objects, and physically he's the strongest man in the house...but it's much more than physical strength. He's a strong, solid, stable man, which suits my drama queen personality quite well. He's so strong, that having him beside me makes me stronger.
Luke always talks non-stop. If he has nothing better to talk about he just starts a play-by-play of what's going on. That would make him a pretty good announcer, except that I think that in circuses, that job belongs to the ring-master, (which I'm sure he thinks he is). Although lately if you asked him what he is he'll tell you he's the snake charmer, but that's just because he is into a snake phase. But I think he's best suited to being a clown. Dressing up, being funny...yeah, that's Luke...so long as he's a clown who can talk. He's already so interested when I put on my make-up, so I'd better watch out. He would have to work on overcoming his shyness to be a clown out in public somewhere, but in our circus home, he's a total clown.
There's no humming and hawing over Toby...he's an acrobat. No piece of furniture too high, no high flying move too risky. Unfortunately, he performs without a net. Energizer bunny meets chimpanzee meets mountain goat. Baby-proofing has nothin' on this kid. We're lucky that so far that his only permanent damage is a chipped tooth. Want something guaranteed to make Toby smile no matter how miserable he is?... fling him around, or hold him up by his ankles, or any move like that. If we had a giant cannon, he'd be climbing in it right now.
Nobody knows what kind of dog Rita is. She was found as a starving stray puppy. She's not ferocious, and can withstand being a participant (sometimes willing, sometimes not so much) in both Luke and Toby's performances with surprising poise and patience. She has tiger-like stripes and sometimes has a wild look in her eyes. If she wants something (like breakfast or a trip to the dog park)
she starts growling and howling, although neither could even give the illusion of an untamed beast. But she's our only animal act, so you can enjoy her act, or picket outside our home for having an animal act...although the only animal cruelty here is from Luke wanting to pet her too often, or when Toby tries to ride her like a horse (but to the activists from all the animal groups out there, we stop them as soon as we see it, so please don't start picketing).
ME (a.k.a. TANYA)
I try to stay on top of plucking the odd chin hair I find growing, because I do fear becoming the bearded lady both figuratively and literally. However, I do realize that once most kids become teenagers they begin to gawk at their mother's uncool, "freakish" ways. That and not knowing how hard or fast menopause will hit, I could potentially be the bearded lady in a decade or so, both figuratively AND literally, once the boys' hormones kick in, and mine peter out. Until then, I choose to keep my tweezers handy and enjoy my children always believing that I know everything...or at least something.
Some days in this house I feel like a concession stand worker, trying to "sell" the boys that banana that is fast developing spots..."Bananas heeeerrreee! Get your bananas heeerrreee!", but I can't charge the outrageous prices which makes me more like the cafeteria lady than a concession stand worker.
I guess I'd be best described as the juggling act. No, I can't juggle flaming batons, swords or even bowling pins, but I try to juggle my family and work, and for me that's plenty hard to do.