It's all in the details ...

Ruby's first 4th of July as an American (although technically still Ethiopian, but who's counting?).  I didn't really think about that until my mom pointed it out, but it is sort of momentous.  The kids actually did not make it for the fireworks (and, therefore, neither did we), because after a day of playing with friends and swimming at the pool, they were crashing hard around 7:30.  Plus, Matt is on call and had to go in to sew up somebody's eye, so here I sit, celebrating the 4th by folding laundry (perpetual state of affairs), and catching up on emails, blog, etc.  But it's all good and we've had a fun weekend, so I'm pretty content to be home just hanging out.

So, last week I got a new cell phone.  The reason I ended up getting it is a little embarrassing, and the incident made me think that maybe other people don't see me the same way I see myself.  Maybe I'm not as nice as I think I am.  And then that made me think about other things that I think about myself, and I realized that I persist in thinking of myself as the person I may have been at one time, but am no longer.  For example, I would think to myself that I am the kind of person who likes to go out and have fun.  Kind of a "fun" person.  And, in fact, I did used to be such a person.  Now, however, I am actually the kind of person who enjoys a good night of sleep and has recently been extremely hung over from over-indulging in white wine.  Not too cool.  Also, I tend to think of myself as a person who feeds her kids healthy meals.  And I do remember that I used to make the boys eat their vegetables before they got the rest of their food.  Lately, however, I'm definitely counting spaghetti sauce as a veggie and hot dogs as a healthy dinner meat.  Similarly, I previously was "the kind of person" who would write nice thank you notes promptly upon receiving a gift.  Or "the kind of person" who would insist that her children wear clean and neat clothing when leaving the house.  However, when I reflect on reality, I see that most of the boys' clothes are stained, so that they appear dirty even when they are actually clean, and I really don't care.  It would seem that the evidence is pointing towards my being a boring, lazy, dirty unappreciative person.  Ouch!

A friend was recently telling me how annoyed she was that a friend of hers sent a really nice thank you note to her.  I could totally relate.  The fact that other people are still doing the things that you used to do when you were a more with it person can really be a buzz kill.  Isn't that petty?  Also, realizing that you maybe are no longer one kind of person and maybe have not been for a while leads you to wonder what kind of a person you really are.  Am I now the kind of person who wishes they wrote thank you notes right away because I really do appreciate when people do nice things for me, or the kind of person who thinks feeding my kids healthy meals is a good idea, even if I don't usually do so?  The worst part is realizing that I used to think those things about myself were really part of my fundamental make-up.  There were all of these absolutes - things I knew I would never do - let my 4 year old child watch Star Wars, for instance, and things I could always be counted on to do - read the book club selection before attending the meeting.  And now, as you may have been able to guess, Star Wars is our favorite movie around here, and I can't remember the last time I made it to book club and had read the book (either I've read it but can't go to the meeting, or I go but haven't read).

I realize that those are little things, but I really felt like those kinds of things made me who I was.  I guess it's because the big facts about most people, myself included, are so generic and overwhelming.  Yes, I am a married, stay-at-home mother.  So are a lot of people.  I have three kids, I went to Middlebury, I am from Texas, etc, etc.  But all of that stuff wouldn't tell a person who I really am in the same way that one little detail sometimes can.  You know when you have a good friend, and you're trying to describe something or someone to her, and you can just say one little thing to convey the whole picture.  Like you might say, "let's just say that my brother's new girlfriend is the kind of person who would send food back in a restaurant if she didn't like it."  And your friend would totally understand that this girl is not a keeper.  So, I'm guessing that people did not used to sit around saying, "Claire is the kind of person who really stays on top of her book club reading material," but I will admit (nerdishly) that it was something I thought was cool because I love to read.  And mostly, we can fool other people by revealing select details of our lives or telling only the stories that leave the impression we want others to have of us.  But then there's this big disconnect where I'm not quite sure what details would give people the full story about me.  And maybe I am secretly afraid that a few details would make a person think I'm a hypocrite, or a bore, or self-important, or flaky.  Well, actually, I am sometimes those things some of the time, but hopefully not all of the time.

So here's the cell phone store, and even though it points towards me being spoiled and indulgent I'll just tell it anyway.  I lost the charger for my cell phone last week on our trip (predictably, I left it sitting in the motel where we spent the night on the way home from Texas), so I stopped by the Sprint store on the way to the grocery store to pick up a new one.  If you've had dealings with the delightful people at Sprint, you know the drill.  One guy takes your name and problem, types it into his computer, and then you see your name up on a screen behind the 50 or so other people who arrived before you.  But I'm in a hurry, plus I have all three kids with me, and, really, all I need is a cord.  So when I realize that the guy is going to toss me onto the computer list, just to buy a cord, I freak.  At first I tried to make him see reason.  "All I need is a cord, I don't really need to see one of your "experts," you could just get the cord for me and I could give you my money."  Have you ever read the book Don't Let the Pigeon Drive the Bus?  I was the pigeon.  As with the pigeon, my tactics failed.  Didn't I see all of the other people waiting?  Did I think it would be fair for me to go ahead of all of them?  I didn't yell, but I wasn't very nice either, as I informed the guy that I thought it was ridiculous that they would make me wait to buy a cord and I was going to cancel my Sprint contract and never do business there again.  I stormed out and hustled the kids back to the car.  Once back in the car, Finn said, "Mom, you weren't very nice to that man."  My very mature response:  "that guy was an idiot."  And off we went to AT&T.