Promontory

PROMONTORY noun
A point of high land that juts out into the sea or a large lake; a headland:
The Maven stood on the rocky promontory, threatening to jump if March Break didn't end soon.

What a neat word. Up until last week when it was suggested by a blog reader who's obviously smarter than I am, I had no idea it even existed. Neat-o.

Promontory: A fancy word for "cliff."

If I had written about a promontory yesterday, it probably would have involved me saying how it might be nice to take final flight into an ocean of solitude, leaving behind the screaming and taunting of my wee gremlins who are getting oh-so-bored with our school-induced vacation. I've concluded that the individual who came up with the idea for March Break is either;

1. A sadist
2. A jerk
3. Someone who has ample money to entertain their kids for an entire week
4. A rich, sadistic jerk

But those angry thoughts are gone - poof! - out the window and quickly forgotten. Today I was granted a reprieve. One of my friends decided it would be nice to take Gutsy out mini putting this morning, then took him for lunch, then took him back to her house to play. Then - oh yes, it gets better - she took him to a movie this evening.

I don't know if I can put into words just how much this changed the dynamic in our home, but I'm a writer so it's my duty to at least try.

I've often said that Gutsy would have made a perfect only-child. He's one of those kids who loves attention from his parents, but also needs his space. However, the boy's station in life was to be placed between older and younger brothers. Gutsy is sort of the odd one out. He has different interests, a different stress threshold, and likes things a just so. When all three boys are home for any length of time, tensions start to build. On one hand, Gutsy likes to play with his brothers. On the other, he's quick to anger if they don't play the way he wants them do. And since he's smack dab in the middle age-wise, he plays with both and argues with both. This week there has been a ridiculous amount of arguing.

The last few days have been leading me further and further up the cliff, carefully considering a leap from the proverbial promontory into a blissful pool of insanity. Maybe Mommy Maven wouldn't hear them arguing anymore; arguments might sound like jovial singing in my special crazy place. You never know, right?

And then, a miracle happened: I got a phone call this morning asking if Gutsy would like to go out. This one act of kindness shifted our family's dynamic, throwing us all into a pleasant state of rest. I took Spawnling out for the morning, then dropped him off with Intrepid while I did some groceries - alone, all by myself, just me and my shadow cup of coffee. I can leave the oldest and youngest gremlins alone because they're ten years apart and, as a result, rarely fight. While I was gone, they watched TV, played Lego, and did a few other brotherly bonding activities. I didn't have to worry about answering a call from a sobbing child who was tattling on another sobbing child. It was like winning the lottery - which I then quickly spent at Costco. Yikes. Nobody told me I'd have to actually feed my kids, too. Isn't loving them enough?

Anyway, it's now evening and we're all relaxed now. Gutsy came home from tonight's Justin Beiber movie determined to find concert tickets and get a set of drums for his bedroom like the Beibz. I'll talk him down from his high tomorrow. He had a great day, and the smile on his face when he came in tonight was priceless. I owe my friend big, big, big.  I shall place her high on the promontory of adoration and shower her with coffees for all eternity.

One more weekend to go. One more, and I'll have time to track down that rich, sadistic jerk I mentioned earlier and kick him square in the junk.