I spend a lot of time in the car with my kids – three to four hours each school day. I am the taxi to school, and like most moms, the chauffeur to sports practices, games, overnights, parties, and social engagements.
Extended car-time allows me more opportunity to interact and connect with my kids. I can keep abreast of what my kids are thinking, doing, and feeling during the hectic week we call “ours”. Because there are three stops each morning and each afternoon, a system for communicating has developed over the years. We cover a lot of ground, some of it rather unique.
It was during a ride home from school last week that the subject of time of birth came up. And yes, it was initiated by Aubry.
“When were you born, Mama?”
I gave out my date of birth.
“I know that. What time were you born? Were you born in a hospital?” she asked.
I answered that I had indeed been born in a hospital, some time in the morning. I said it wasn’t all that important to me and that’s why I couldn’t remember.
“What time was I born?”
“I don’t have that information, honey. I have no way of getting it.”
“How about me, Mommy? What time was I born?” asked Greyson.
“You were born at 7:32 in the evening,” I said.
“Mama, do you think I was born in the morning like you?” asked Aubry.
“It could be – or not, sweetie. I’ve no way of knowing.”
Josi was quiet during this interaction. Holden was at practice for his musical.
Addressing Aubry, I said, “Sweetie, you could pick a time you like. What do you think of that?”
“Can I pick a time too?” asked Josi, understanding that, like her sister, we had no way of knowing what time of day she was born.
“Sure. Let me know what you come up with,” I said.
So the three of them sat in the back of the car discussing the best time of day to be born. Not one to be left out, Greyson asked if he could change his. – Why not? (I haven’t heard the choices yet…)