You’ve heard of Facebook stalkers and the traditional stare-in-your-window stalkers, but at my house there is what appears to be a growing trend in calendar stalking.
I wasn’t even aware of the problem — which is to say, I wasn’t aware that my calendar was being so closely monitored and replicated, or else I would have chosen my words more carefully (more on that in a minute) — until Ford, 10, outed himself during a dinner with my friend and graduate school classmate, Zay.
But before we get to that, let’s talk about Ford.
Ford was the first child and grandchild on both sides of the family. He has never shied away from the spotlight. Indeed, it often lands squarely on him. More than that, however — or perhaps because of that — Ford has several traits which naturally led him to calendar stalking:
1. His desire to create and produce. One day he has developed a prototype for an original board game, the next day he is drawing blueprints to make a life-size model of the solar system. (Here’s the part where my mother would remind me of all the times I filmed “movies” in our backyard and had Academy Awards ceremonies on the porch. I always won Best Actress.)
2. His fondness for sequence and timelines. Once, Ford made a Family Status Update sheet and explained that we were supposed to document any important happenings or thoughts on the chart, which would be hanging with tape from the kitchen window. Ford started us off:
• 7 a.m. Ford makes Family Status Update sheet.
• 7:02 a.m. Ford makes first status update.
• 10:23 a.m. There was a moment of uncertainty and held breath when Dustin jokingly — mockingly, almost — added his own update: “Fiber is an essential part of a healthy diet.” But Ford, good-natured as ever, promptly wrote: “10:25 am Dad and everyone had a good laugh.”
3. His drive to lead, teach and persuade. (Obviously, he gets this one from his military dad.)
Ford, to my friend Zay: “Have you ever seen the movie ‘Despicable Me’?”
Zay: “No, Ford, I haven’t.”
Ford, suddenly looking concerned, his hand clutching his head: “Uh, oh. Whenever someone tells me they haven’t seen a movie, I feel compelled to tell them about the entire thing.”
At least he’s honest about it. My older brother Van, who had the same compulsion, usually just cornered us.
It was during that same conversation with Zay that Ford revealed the calendar situation. We were telling Zay goodbye and thanking her for coming over for dinner. Ford said, “Yes, I’m really glad I was able to be at this dinner, unlike last night.”
My mother ears perked up. Kids always say these types of things at the most inopportune time. I imagined Zay thinking I had not let Ford eat dinner the night before. And after the online comments about my parenting, how could she think anything else?
So I asked him to explain.
“Well, Mom has this calendar with different columns for family events and events that are just for each of us,” he said. “I copy onto my calendar everything she writes in the ‘Family’ and ‘Ford’ sections. Only now I’m realizing that what she writes under ‘Family’ isn’t always for everyone. Last night I was getting ready for the ‘Dinner party @ 6:30’ when I heard Mom say, ‘The babysitter will be here at 5:45.’ That’s when I knew I wasn’t invited to the party.”
I thought about my calendar and all the notes to self I make under the poorly named “Family” section, where I keep track of everything from my monthly cycles to my weight to school assignments that are due. Now it all made sense! A few days before, when I said to myself, “Man, I really need to clean this house,” and Ford yelled from the other room, “No, you’re doing that on April 1st,” I was really confused. (Could Ford read minds now, too?)
I pictured Ford in his room preparing for a party and then learning that he wasn’t invited. I felt kind of sad for him. But Zay had a brilliant idea: I can use this new knowledge to my advantage.
So, don’t be surprised if you are in my kitchen and see that I’ve become incredibly specific on the calendar:
• 7 a.m. Floss teeth.
• 9 a.m. Take out trash.
• 4 p.m. Do homework.
• 5 p.m. Be kind to your mother.
• 7 p.m. Remember: Moms rule!
• 8 p.m. Go to bed.
• 8:15 p.m. No, you don’t need just “one more glass of water.”
• 8:30 p.m. Stop asking for another glass of water.
• 8:32 p.m. If you ask for another glass of water, my head might explode.
• 8:33 p.m. Fiber is an essential part of a healthy diet.
• 8:35 p.m. Mom officially off duty. Please come back at 8 a.m., after flossing teeth.
Maine author and columnist Sarah Smiley’s writing is syndicated weekly to publications across the country. She and her husband, Dustin, live with their three sons in Bangor. Her book, “I’m Just Saying …”, is available wherever books are sold. She may be reached at sarah@sarahsmiley.com.