Parties I've Missed

There have been lots of them. Parties I've missed.

So yesterday I was working, doing a little over-kill so that I could have 2 full WEEK-DAYS free to hang around with my grandsons and look at bugs and things. It's not everyday that I get important company.

Between patients I nervously took a peek at my new phone. I say nervously because it's a little intimidating having a phone that has a higher IQ than you. And the manual is 300 pages long and you have to read it on a file on your computer and who the h. . . has the time.

Yet we're up for the challenge, right? There was a phone number on caller ID (that I get) and it looked so familiar, but I couldn't place it. No voice mail.

I hit Call. A kid answered the phone, "K. residence."

Can you imagine? At my house they answer like this, "What? Huh?"

The clue, "K residence," helped the search function. At least I knew who it was who had called and I asked to speak my old friend N., a woman who did play group with me about 14. years ago (that's a long time). "She's not home. Would you like to speak to my father?"

Your father?

Sure.

M. got the phone and explained that he'd called but it wasn't an emergency. On my cell you get this horrible message:

If this is an emergency. . .call. . .or. . .Just please, please, please, don't kill yourself, not on my watch, OKAY?!?#@

So M. felt funny leaving a message and it was all too complicated, anyway. He tells me that he's throwing his spouse, my old friend, a 50th b-day party and could we (me and FD) please come?

Wow. I'm flattered. I really would have liked to have made it, too, which is a little unusual. And I missed their son's wedding only a few weeks before (it was overseas, as in Australia overseas, and you just can't make all of the out of town weddings, you know?). But I had this IMPORTANT COMPANY and once again, couldn't make the party.

And it made me think of so many other parties that I've missed over the years for so many reasons, usually work related. I work on Sundays, and most wedding showers are on Sundays. I've also missed parties because I skip town to visit my kids whenever I can, whenever airfares aren't over the top.

FD is much more the party animal. But I've convinced him that the party is not about us, and that nobody really minds spending a hundred dollars less if we don't make it to their daughter-in-law's shower, kid's bar mitzvah or wedding.

And that's true to a degree, but there are a lot of people who really do want us there to dance with them, and we probably should do our best to trip over our toes to join friends in their happiness. Happiness isn't an every day thing, as you know, and it has nothing to do with knowing how to dance. We should grab the gusto. We really, really should.

Once my own kids planned a party for us, for me and FD, a surprise party. They had invited 20 plus couples before we found out and put the kabosh on the whole thing. We were going through something or another, some huge crisis, and both of us were on empty emotionally. We couldn't handle the mental work it would take to smile that whole evening. We made them cancel the party and they were devastated.

They argued, too. Probably our worst control issue with adult children, and of course, we won. (Structural family therapy axiom #1: Parents Rule). The party was canceled and #2 son (the second of the twins to be yanked out of this ol' bod') said to me, Never again. You don't get another. No more parties for you. He really was hurt, so much wanted to give us a party, and I'm sure it was full of wonderful thoughts, ideas.

So I regret life's emotionality, regret canceling that party. And kids, I apologize.

But sometimes you just can't make it to the party, even if it's your own. (It gives you something to talk about, right? The whole surprise idea. Is it like tickling? Some like it, some don't? Is there research on tickling?)

Anyway, dear friend who is going to be (finally) Over Fifty: HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MANY MORE, and let's party together another time, for sure. It is an amazing thing, looking back and remembering, which is what you'll be doing, looking back and remembering, looking forward and wondering.

Wish we could be there. But you know how it goes. As it is I'll miss most of a Bar Mitzvah tomorrow.

What can you do?

therapydoc

The Working Date

I've been waiting for this.

Sue Shellenbarger (Wall Street Journal, 6-28-07, Personal Journal, Work & Family) titles the story, Dinner and a PowerPoint.

She tells us, in case you aren't in the know, that for powerful people, dating now means bringing along the laptop, or more commonly, staying in, having dinner and perhaps a little wine, then working for a nice satisfying stretch before perhaps going out for ice cream. Sex included if agreed upon.

The date, interestingly, is mapped out, which I've always thought a good thing, so that prime-thinking hours aren't wasted. Ms. Shellenbarger quotes Beth Schoenfeldt, co-author of "Ladies Who Launch," saying that entrepreneurs don't really separate work and life so it's best that they find dates who don't stop working, either.

Sounds like a good idea. Matching a date's attachment to work means probably having compatible needs for psychological space, which can work well in a relationship. Of course, I'm always pushing to decrease that need for space, to increase the need for intimacy. But oh well. High powered people might not have time to see a therapy doc, either.

WSJ quotes Ian Kerner, a relationship therapist (my team). who feels that a work date says a lot about a person's inability to put a relationship first in life.

My feelings exactly.

Work is a quest for Money

Not that I'm down on money! It's good, it's important. Work is creative and expressive, too, and it makes everything else flow, except, of course, if a couple's relationship is lacking in other areas. But being able to share work hours can be phenomenal.

It's when one is watching another who can't stop working, it seems, that there's a problem. But when both are happily clicking along?

I think about back to back computing with FD, monitors aglow, only three feet apart, our chairs potentially touching if we move to get a bite to eat. It's a type of work for we're sharing what we know, but it's fun, and we can talk if we want to talk, and we do talk.

So don't get me wrong, I'm not totally against being able to share the same space to do something solitary, as toddlers do in parallel play, by the way, before learning that playing TOGETHER is much more of a blast.

My take is that work is that it's wonderful and necessary, and that all kinds of work, including stay at home work, are equal. Work and academic pursuits amount to the same type of time commitment. If 8-16 hours of a person's day is tied up in work or school, then there's much to talk about.

The real focus in intimacy, however, isn't the screen that's glowing on the table, it's talking. Is it a good thing to relegate your best talk hours of the day to a screen?

Wouldn't it be nice to spend at least half of that time, the better amount of time on the date, talking about families, past experiences (if they're not too embarrassing), issues with George Bush, preferences on toothpaste (don't use some overseas brands, apparently they're tainted), difficulties with friends and co-workers, dreams or fears about having children, fantasies, thoughts about future avocations or vocations, sharing funnies in the New Yorker, or singing?

I'm thinking if you can LIVE together, as in really LIVE, the relationship has a much better chance than if you mostly work and sleep together. Money comes, money goes.

There's only so much time, you know, before time's up.

Copyright 2007, therapydoc