- DD2 = Dear second daughter
- DD3 = Dear third daughter
- DH = Dear husband
The phone call
I woke up to the phone ringing. The bright digits of my old clock radio impressed the time upon me: 5:08 am. I got up swiftly, fully awake. Full of worry. “What’s happened?” I wondered. Our two youngest had bussed to Toronto for a Lana Del Rey concert, and my first guess was that they were in some kind of trouble.
“Mom?” It was DD2’s shaky, weepy voice. “I think I’ve got food poisoning.”
Not the worst of the possibilities that had flashed through my brain, but the floodgates of maternal compassion were set to open
“It started right when we got back from the concert,” she continued. “I had a stomach ache, and when I threw up I thought I’d feel better, but I didn’t. I just kept throwing up. I’ve been up all night. I tried to take a sip of water, but I threw it up right away… Just a sec. I have to puke.” I waited, cringed at the sound effects. “There’s nothing left,” she said when she returned to the phone. “But it doesn’t stop.”
The bus tickets
DD2 and DD3 were staying at their cousin’s apartment in Toronto, and there was no way they’d be able to use the bus tickets they’d bought for their return trip home later that day – a Tuesday. I texted DD3 and advised her to contact the bus station to see if it would be possible to get a refund or to exchange their Tuesday tickets for Wednesday tickets. “I’ve thrown up 5 times today,” she texted back. Two sick daughters!
I went to work and kept my cell phone close at hand. “If you need me, just call and I’ll take the day off and drive to get you,” I’d told them. Was it food poisoning? The flu? Maybe salmonella? It was so frustrating to have them five hours away!
They found out that they’d be able to get bus tickets for the next day at a 50% discount – $20 each. Not what we’d hoped for, but it wouldn’t break the bank. The concert and all other costs associated with it were on them, not us.
DH’s brick wall vs. my jellyfish
In her book Kids Are Worth It, Barbara Coloroso identifies three types of parents:
- The “brick wall” parent is domineering and inflexible.
- The “jellyfish” parent sets no boundaries and is infinitely flexible.
- The “backbone” parent asserts structure with a degree of flexibility.
Coloroso presents the backbone parent as the ideal. She advises brick wall parents to loosen up, and jellyfish parents to toughen up. Most parents are inclined one way or the other away from the ideal, but all of us can fine-tune our way to the structured flexibility of a backbone.
DH and I learned about Coloroso’s parenting continuum years ago, and since that time, he has been moving away from his brick wall as I have been moving away from my jellyfish. I don’t know if either of us has actually reached Coloroso’s backbone ideal, but we’re both closer to it than we were when we started out.
Bus terminal troubles
DD2 and DD3 stayed at my niece’s apartment for an extra day. My poor niece came down with the flu that Thursday – confirming that it was the flu all along. On Wednesday, our daughters weren’t yet well enough to eat, but they thought they could manage the bus ride home, and DD2 phoned Greyhound to confirm the time of departure and cost of the tickets.
“11:30. $40 each,” said one phone attendant. What about the 50% discount? “There is no discount,” she insisted.
DD2 phoned again. “11:30, and since you get a 50% discount, it will be $20 each,” said a different attendant.
When they got to the terminal, they explained their situation to one of the ticket-sellers. “You won’t be able to buy a ticket from us right now,” she said. “Our computers are down. Here’s a number to call to get your tickets.” DD2 phoned, explained her situation, was put on hold … Dial tone.
Back to the ticket-seller. “Try this number,” she said. DD2 phoned the new number and explained the situation yet again. “We can’t give you a discount” was the answer she got.
Tired, hungry, and still sick, DD2 phoned home. DH runs his business out of our house, so he was the one to answer. He listened, commiserated … and coached her not to give up. “There must be someone there who can do something about this,” he said. “Find that person and explain your situation again. Emphasize the discount policy you were told about. And don’t be put off. Just stand there until you get your answer.”
DD2 soon phoned him back – gleefully. She had spoken with the attendant directing passengers for the bus they were hoping to take. She explained the sickness, the cancelled ticket, the mixed messages about a 50% discount, the downed computers, and the unresponsive phone service. The attendant considered, consulted, and came back to answer.
“There’s room on this bus. Go ahead. No charge.”
DH then phoned me to let me know all was well. Our sick daughters were on their way home, and soon I’d be able to lavish them with molly-coddling (which I did very frugally). DD2 had lost 15 pounds and DD3 developed a fever. Mollycoddling was definitely appropriate.
Good thing I didn’t get that call!
It’s a good thing DH received that tortured call from the bus terminal. I know what I would have done if I had answered: “Just phone that first number again and buy the tickets at full price. We’ll pay.” I’m sure it’s a response they would have welcomed.
But they got so much more out of DH’s response. It gave them the opportunity to …
- … learn not to give up even after multiple tries.
- … discover the power of negotiation.
- … develop confidence in their ability to work towards a solution.
There are times to rescue young adult children, but more often, there are times to coach them. It’s not always clear which option is called for. DH coached in a situation that I believe would have led many parents to rescue. I think our daughters got the best deal from him.
What would you have done? Do you tend to be a brick wall or a jellyfish? Your comments are welcome.