Bubblegum Alley

Sophia, Eva, Cheryl and I are on a Southern California tour this week to visit colleges that Sophia is considering.   We arrived yesterday in San Luis Obispo and have an appointment tomorrow to check out Cal Poly. We are having a blast. I am delighted to watch the girls explore their new surroundings, making coffee in the room, checking out the ice machine and testing the firmness of the mattresses. I am always so charmed by the sisterly camaraderie they have. You would never know that they are not blood sisters who were not raised together from birth. Their allegiance and loyalty to each other is astounding and remarkable.

Last night we had a nice dinner in downtown San Luis Obispo, which the locals here refer to as “SLO Town” for its meandering, laid back pace. We window shopped and checked out Bubblegum Alley, a local landmark that is known for its accumulation of bubblegum on the walls that has apparently been written up in the Guinness Book of World Records. It was fascinating and gross all at the same time. Later back at the hotel they watched a movie together in bed while I did homework. We just finished a workout at the fitness center and they are at the pool. When they return we are going to head down to Avila Beach to check out the sights and maybe do SOME SHOPPING !!!.

He conceded. I won that battle. Just as I sort of did over the issue of the area rug in front of the kitchen sink. I don’t like area rugs because I always trip over them and I see them as just one more thing that I have to clean. But Paul was insistent that we have one so we got one and when it wore out, I threw it out. He keeps asking me when I am going to replace it and I tell him I haven’t found any that I like. But the truth is, that rug is never coming back.

Now I’ve made my share of compromises too in the cohabitation department. Or have I? Let me think for a moment. Yes. Actually it is more on the tolerance level. For instance, I have learned to overlook his toothpaste spit on the bathroom towels, the crumbs he leaves behind on the dining room table and the sunflower seeds I find all over my car. (Oh and I can’t forget the lint from his pants pockets that always ends up on my dresser.) These are things that I have learned to overlook because as an adult, I know in the big picture, they are not that important. But through the eyes of a child, they are HUGE.

I’ll never forget when we were first contemplating the move Eva asked me, “Are we going to smell like them?” Smell like them??? She went on to explain that every family smells differently. We figured it was mostly because of the bath soap and laundry detergent they used combined  with various food smells. Eva was insistent that she did not want to smell like them. And I assured her we would still smell like ourselves.

What it all comes down to in a kid’s mind, and often in an adult’s mind, is: Who has the power and the control? Just as I wondered last night  to Paul, “Why do I have to change? Why can’t you just remember to take the chain off before you open the door?” My sense of autonomy was impugned. I didn’t want to be challenged on something so trivial to him that was so important to me. And he took it like a man and let me have my way because he knew that my sense of security was worth the risk of him hitting himself in the nose with the door.

I continue to hope that I am modeling to my children the life skills they will need to become thoughtful, considerate adults so that they not only learn  how to assert themselves  for the issues that are most important to them, but  also see things through other people’s  perspective.  It’s called negotiation. It’s called Democracy. It doesn’t always seem fair, but sometimes you just have to compromise. Even if it means smelling (just a little) like them.