Drama

Things move so quickly here, it's hard for me to keep up. Some days I think I should keep a diary, but then I realise I'm much happier living in the moment, rather than recording it. (Hence the infrequent blog updates.)

It's also hard to keep track of who is upset about what. At 10, 12 and 13 going on 16, there is no end to the drama. It was "labour weekend" in New Zealand, a three-day weekend that is primarily used as a marker for when to plant vegetables, which is exactly what I did Friday afternoon--plant vegetables. The eldest wasn't interested but the younger two came out to watch. When I tried giving the middle child a job, she disappeared and was not seen again. The youngest did stay, although he much preferred stabbing things with the fork, so wasn't much help. (Once I'd weeded, turned the soil and added mulch, he did plant the seedlings, so I'll give him credit.)

Friday night, I made borscht, aka sweet and sour cabbage soup. I haven't had borscht since I went vegetarian, because restaurants invariably cook it with brisket, and I never thought to make it myself! And in fact I did cook some brisket separately, as I did not think cabbage soup would be an easy sell with the kids. (They did eat it with the brisket, but turned their noses up when the leftovers were offered without meat.) In the evening, the eldest child -- who has been an absolute angel for the past four weeks -- had a bit of a setback and started yelling, but I honestly can't remember about what.
Saturday, the kids got up at 6am, 8am and 10am respectively, and each one announced they were staying home the entire day and "relaxing." Of course, I have no idea what they were relaxing from, but it didn't matter as we'd made plans to meet their uncle for lunch on the beach. Just like the UK, it always rains on a holiday weekend, and as Saturday was the only sunny day we were determined to make the most of it. The kids, however, were determined to do the opposite. After much groaning and protestation, we finally got them out the door, but at the beach they refused to go in the water, or play any games, and instead just dug holes in the sand.

Sunday morning is usually a hassle because the kids go to cheder (Jewish school) and normally have to be out the door by 9, but it was on hiatus and so we had a leisurely morning and I made hash browns, frittata and toast. (Toast is a luxury in the household because the kids are all coeliac, gluten-free bread is very expensive and they'll go through an entire loaf in a day!) The kids have a terrible habit of starting the meal before it is even served, grabbing food off the serving plates, and I was determined to stop this, and was gunning for the first kid to snatch a hash brown. Unfortunately that turned out to be the middle child, who was also at the receiving end a week ago when she snatched some lettuce off the chopping board and I was quick enough to grab her wrist and force her to drop it. That two-second incident turned into a two hour festival of screaming and crying, and so criticising her a second time was playing with fire. To be fair, all I said was, "That's very rude. You don't even help making the food, and then you can't even wait for us to sit down before you start eating?" Amazingly, there was no crying, but she stormed off and wouldn't talk to me for an hour. (Although she happily ate the hash browns when they were served.)

At breakfast I mentioned I was meeting their uncle for tennis, and then a strange thing happened--all the kids said they wanted to go with me! (Even the one who wasn't speaking to me.) We were actually going to a tennis club, with lots of older people, so it was really inappropriate for me to bring them, but their uncle has been trying to kindle their interest in tennis for a while so I didn't want to quash it. Fortunately the club was great, and gave us a private court to play on. The middle child promptly had a meltdown and went and sat in the car for the rest of the time, but the other two kids had fun, and their uncle and I took turns playing with the club and teaching the kids.

When we got home at noon, their mom was swimming, so I told the kids we needed to pack for the river. The middle child promptly disappeared, but she was in such a foul mood I was happy to let her go. The eldest announced she wanted to bake a cake, which was not on the list of things to do, but I love cake, so was happy to let her go. The youngest said he wanted a lemon cake, and after some argument she agreed. The recipe called for two teaspoons of lemon rind so I gave the boy a lemon and a zester and showed him how to strip off the peel. He told me he was too tired to do it. I snapped at him, a bit harshly, that he had just asked his sister to make a lemon cake for him and now couldn't be bothered to make the lemon? He relented, and I left the two alone while I loaded the kayaks onto the car. When I came back, the kitchen was spotless--even the middle child had returned and helped clean the dishes!

We met some friends on the river and after a few rough starts -- the two youngest kids insisted on sitting in the car, where they proceeded to argue about who-knows-what -- the kids all went on the kayaks upstream, and we had a lovely time. The Met Office predicted rain at 6pm and, although the skies were threatening all day, it did hold out. We got home and everyone helped unload the car, I got pizza for dinner, and the whole family was playing a board game--it was idyllic, so you know it couldn't last for long. Her mom asked the eldest to do something, and she shot back with a rude remark. Her mom wasn't having any of it, and told her to go to her room and think about what she said, but the girl wouldn't back down and announced she wasn't going to her room, and we should continue playing the game.

This is usually the point where I jump in, just to sever the "casual rudeness" that the children displayed toward their mother, except I could see how this was going to play out -- the eldest has been working hard to behave, and has been enjoying the fruits of that labour -- talking, playing, laughing, having fun. Rather than escalate the situation, I decided that denying her those things would have a more lasting effect. So I didn't stop the kids from playing, but I didn't play with them, and of course their mother stopped as well. At 8pm I announced it was bedtime, even though we had planned on letting them stay up as Monday was a holiday. The kids were also planning a "sleepover" -- sleeping together in one room -- but I cancelled that. Funnily, whereas before they would have had a meltdown and just started screaming until they got their way, the younger two were quite philosophical, and understood this was because the eldest was misbehaving. In fact, the younger two were so exemplary that in the end I did let them have a sleepover--which turned out to be a huge mistake.

While I was reading to the younger ones, their mom was talking to the eldest, who (as predicted) was crying inconsolably about how she never does anything right and how sorry she was. It was very heartfelt--and heartbreaking--but an important lesson, and she needed to know their were consequences for bad behaviour that would not be waived for an apology. Unfortunately, just as she had stopped crying and resigned herself to this, the middle child came in and pleaded on her sister's behalf to be allowed in the sleepover. Her mom refused and the crying started all over again.

Monday the forecast was for rain all day, so the kids were allowed to do their own thing in the morning. We were going to a friend's for tea in the afternoon, and the lemon cake had been such a smash the day before, the eldest wanted to make another. Again, I was happy to let her. Unfortunately the younger two decided to play Minecraft in the same world (on two different devices), and started bickering about things in the virtual world the same as they might argue over real-world toys! Their mom is a luddite and very intolerant of technology, so she told them to stop playing. Unfortunately the youngest gets very addicted, and does not handle being disconnected well, so he started crying.

We called their grandmother (on Skype) and had a video chat, which was going well until she asked about my job situation. We've been trying to not discuss the situation with the kids until we had some concrete plans, but of course they have been asking how long I'd be here and have been frustrated that we haven't given them any answers. The eldest, in particular, has accused us of keeping secrets, and I feel for them but I think telling them "I don't know" isn't any better of an answer. So when her grandma asked, and her mom fobbed off the question, she got very upset. Very, very upset. It stewed for a while, but by the time we got over to her aunt's house it boiled over, and she and her mom had an hour-long screaming/crying/glaring session. (Fortunately I was inside, with the other two kids.)

And then it was over and she was fine. Her mom was a wreck, of course, but it's amazing how kids can turn it on and just as quickly turn it off! We went over to the friend's house and had a lovely afternoon. We got home, made a quick dinner, and over dinner discussed a Halloween party the girls had been invited to. The issue was over the time they had to leave, as we have to be in the city at 10am the following morning--which means getting up at 8am--and the kids are nightmares if they don't get 10 hours of sleep. The girls assured us that they could be in bed and asleep in 15 minutes, even though it normally takes them an hour to settle down. A compromise was reached with the proviso they could show -- over the next four days -- that they could get to bed on time.

The two girls then sat down to practice guitar for a school show they had the next evening. The eldest was playing her own song, and had invited her sister to play with her. Unfortunately, at 8pm -- bedtime -- the eldest told her sister she no longer wanted her to play, and the middle one went into a meltdown. Interestingly, again whereas she normally would have started screaming until she got her way, the middle one started screaming into a pillow, obviously trying (in some small measure) to control herself. Her mother offered her comfort and she slammed the bedroom door in her face, but later came out and demanded her mother come in and comfort her! Her mom took a hard line and told her to control herself and she started to lose it, but then managed to pull herself back from the precipice and go to bed. It was an amazing turnaround, and I was very proud of her, even though I couldn't tell her that because she was still behaving badly.

So night one of showing us they could get to bed early, the middle one went to bed nearly two hours late. (Tonight we won't get home from the concert until after 8pm, so that should be an even more interesting test.) I expected the middle one to be abominable in the morning, but she was perfectly pleasant, whereas the eldest was arguing vociferously about why her mom should be able to just tell her if the dishes in the dishwasher were clean, rather than her having to go and check! Sometimes it's hard to not just laugh in their face. Their mom, who also needs her sleep, was shattered, so I offered to drive the girls to the train station, leaving her with the youngest who was happy as larry. When I got home 20 minutes later, I found him crying in the hallway.

It was piano day and all the kids are afraid of their piano teacher, because she scolds them when they don't practice, and so Tuesday when they realise they haven't practiced all week -- despite their mother reminding them every single day -- they all get upset. (Although they never seem to learn from it.) So I assumed he was having another "stomach ache" -- which only happens on school days -- but it turns out he had gotten on Minecraft again, and when his mom asked him to come off he had given her lip, and she announced there would no longer be any computer time in the morning. (Oddly, he wouldn't admit that was what had upset him, but this is the same child who will assure you that in spite of the tears rolling down his cheeks, the trembling lips and between the choking sobs that he is absolutely not crying.)

So that's the last four days, in a rambling nutshell. I'm hopeful I'll get some more leads this week, but regardless of my situation I think we'll have to talk to the kids. Their dad may be back in town next week -- as usual, he hasn't communicated at all -- and so I don't want this hanging over their heads. It's not great timing simply because, although their parents divorced four years ago, they still haven't agreed on a settlement, so having someone else in the picture only complicates things. (I will have to do another post on the draconian and neanderthal New Zealand divorce laws...)

Chores

I don't remember having chores as a kid.  Perhaps I just blocked that out, or perhaps I was such an angelic child that I did everything without needing to be told.  Whatever the case, at least I wasn't a spoilt brat who expected everything to be done for me, and then complained if it wasn't done exactly the way I wanted it.

Of course my mother may disagree, but she can write her own blog.

Anyway, as I said before, being a single mom with three kids is an impossible situation because you're always in triage mode. If you ask one child to do something, and they throw a tantrum, you can't take that child aside and deal with it, because the other two will start acting up.  They will always be able to outflank you, and in the end it is just easier to do it yourself.

Of course, if chores are the stick then an allowance ("pocket money") is supposed to be the carrot.  But if the kids insist on immediately spending it all on candy ("lollies") -- and then behave even worse after the sugar crash -- then it becomes almost a win-win: If they don't do any chores, you don't have to give them any money, and they can't buy any candy.  In the long run, however, the children are missing out on personal accountability, family participation, and financial responsibility.  In other words, they're becoming American.

But I'm not interested in the long run; I'm interested in control, and carrot-and-stick is the second oldest form of control.  ("Might-makes-right" is the oldest.)  So we've been talking about how to re-introduce pocket money for several weeks, and I'd even drawn up a list of responsibilities, chores and behaviors to reward.  We haven't shown them the list but this week we're filling it out for them, and on Sunday we'll show them how they are currently doing, and what we expect if they expect to get any money.  So far, it's not looking good.

Two of them refuse to keep their rooms tidy, throwing everything on the floor until you can't even walk through it.  (One has terrible dust allergies so this just contributes to her sinus problems.)  The past two mornings, the middle one has had a meltdown and started screaming about nothing.  Asking them to set the table immediately launches a vehement argument about whose turn it is, and asking them to take food scraps to the compost heap sounds more like we're sending them to Siberia.  Yesterday I had to discipline the kids twice--once when the youngest was just being rude, and later when the middle child decided she could ignore her mother and grab some food off the counter.  (I was able to grab her wrist and make her drop it, but that lead to an hour of hysterics about how I shouldn't be allowed to discipline them.  Fortunately their mom disagrees.)

That said, they have been practicing piano, yesterday they folded clothes without any complaint, and this morning the eldest made breakfast for her siblings.  The eldest even did some math practice, although she did spend the entire ten minutes repeating, "This is stupid."   So maybe there is hope.

Then again, last Saturday was a school carnival and their mom gave them $5 each for rides and such.  They immediately spent all of it on sweets.

Six weeks

I've been in New Zealand for six weeks now, maybe more. Excluding my 11-month job search in 2008, I've never been on vacation for this long. I'm talking about buying a second-hand bicycle, and a kayak! I hate the water, but I want a kayak. Go figure.

I spoke with immigration last week and they said I could stay nine months without a job; I just need to submit a form and pay a fee. (Obviously I can't afford to be without a job for nine months, but it's nice to know I have the option.)

The kids are very confused, of course--my first visit was just a few days, my second visit was two weeks, and this seems open-ended. They have been asking when I'll be leaving and I keep giving them vague and unsatisfying answers, such as "I don't have an end date scheduled yet." Yesterday one asked why I was keeping it a secret--I assured her that as soon as I knew, I'd tell her straight away. I'm not sure that appeased her much.

Fortunately they are asking because they don't want me to go. Tonight the newly-minted twelve-year-old said it would be strange not having me around. It almost moved me to tears.

Earlier that day she also told her siblings to do what I said, because otherwise I might get mad and she didn't want me to get mad! What I wanted was for them to get out of the car, where they were staging a protest against walking to the Dewali festival, about half a mile away along the waterfront. We did finally go and the kids (of course) had a great time. The 12-year-old who is famous for not wanting new foods not only tried--but loved--masala dosa and vegetable biryani! (Then she drank all of my mango lassi, which I was less impressed with.)

Unfortunately we were having so much fun I completely forgot I'd arranged for the kids to play tennis with their uncle in the afternoon! (Thankfully he wasn't upset, but he did get me to agree to help remove his old TV, which weighs a ton.)

In the evening we chased each other around the playing field with nerf guns, completely ignoring a perfect sunset. Then we tucked into a vegetarian shepherd's pie, finished with cake and ice cream. I read to the kids from a book called "Captain Underpants" and they were all asleep by 9.

Meanwhile their mom had been cooking, doing laundry, cleaning up, ensuring the kids were ready for school the next day, following up on homework, and a host of things I'm not even aware of. Of course the kids want me to stay--when does their mom have time to play with them?

New Zealand products

The days are just packed

I've been here a month now, and some times it feels like I just arrived and other times like I've been here forever. Today I'm at the pool--sorry, "aquatics center"--though after two laps I was so exhausted I could hardly pull myself out of the water. I may need to work on that.

Yesterday we had my girlfriend's family over to celebrate a birthday, and the day before we were in synagogue all day for Yom Kippur. (The kids were stars, entertaining themselves the entire day.) Friday evening we were also in town for kol nidre.

After the kids came home from their weekend with dad, the girls went off to "music camp" on Tuesday, and Wednesday evening we went to a "concert" put on by the kids.

In between all of this is the shopping and cooking and cleaning, plus the constant drama! One day I spent half an hour just lying on the floor, waiting for a child to calm down and pick up a piece of paper. This morning it was a half hour battle to get the kids to go to the pool, and another battle to get them out of the pool! It's fine that they don't know their own minds, I'm just unclear why they feel the need to argue about it all the time. I may need to go buy a book.

Of course what I'm *supposed* to be doing is finding a job, and I've devoted precious little time to that. I updated my CV and submitted it to one company, plus an IT guy at my synagogue.

Someone else also informed me I was applying for the wrong kind of visa entirely--rather than apply for a work permit, which just gives me the right to work here, I should be applying for a "work-to-residence" permit, which gives me the right to work and live here! (Either way, I'm beholden to my employer for two years, which is exactly the situation I was trying to avoid when I applied for the skilled work permit...)

So that's about it. The kids are still on term holiday this week, so I asked them what they wanted to do. After being told, in no uncertain terms, that they wanted to do *nothing* this week, they then came up with a list of 20 things and then started complaining they didn't have time to do all of them!!

But I'm learning to take it one day at a time, enjoying the moment and not take it too seriously. It really is exactly the right place for me at this stage of my life. Funny how life does that.