Every time I pick up the telephone my children know it. They know it and they come running while screaming, fighting, and crying!
It is like they have an inner alarm that goes off whenever I even think about picking up a telephone. Bells and whistles must go off at a frequency I am too old to hear.
The children have been fed, cleaned, and dressed for the day. I have taken out new toys from storage for them to play with in the basement. They are actively engaged in cooperative play. I see my opportunity and I take it.
I dial my mother on the telephone and as soon as she answers I hear a howl from below my feet. Uh oh! Something has happened in the basement. Thump thump thump thump thump, my son comes running up the stairs with my niece trailing behind him. I am still holding onto the illusion that this will be a quick fix situation that does not require me to get off the phone with my mother.
Nope. Not happening. William starts crying and screaming about Gordon. Bella, my niece, is talking over William, trying to inform me that whatever happened is not her fault. Of course all this commotion sets off the baby, who until this point in time was peacefully sitting in his swing cooing at his reflection in the mobile.
Apparently there was a train disagreement. This was not going to be a quick fix.
I get off the phone with my mom and turn my full attention to the children only to discover the fighting is over. I try to ask them what happened and find that I am talking to thin air. They are already on their way back downstairs. I am left with is a screaming baby that needs to be soothed and a phone call to return. After about five minutes of rocking the baby is soothed and happy.
Although I am a little apprehensive to place my return phone call, I dial the number and wait.
I creep to the top of the stairs that lead to the basement and listen. No screaming. No fighting. William and Bella are playing nicely and all seems well.
I press the send button. The phone rings. My toddler calls up the stairs “Mom! Juice Please.”