Being "On Call"

Growing up, my dad was always "on call." He owned a small family company providing propane for home-heating and water-heating. If someone ran out of gas, he would be paged and would have to leave the family to take care of business. You can't leave your customers out in the cold. Especially in Buffalo, NY.

When I married Andy, I learned another aspect of being "on call." As a landlord, my husband would need to respond to situations about clogged water drains, broken windows or disturbances. Thankfully, Andy works hard to head-off any potential problems so these calls are far and few between.

When we had the boys, I learned firsthanded what it meant to be "on call." As Jack and Ben's primary caretaker, I was the one who responded to their cries in the middle of the night or during the day. It was difficult for me to sleep in the middle of the afternoon while they slept, knowing that I would need to get up in a moment's notice if my assistance was needed. You just don't sleep well when you're the one "on call."

This morning, our realtor put a big "for sale" sign in our front lawn. It seems so weird to see it there, as if this part of our journey has officially begun. We've been preparing for this for MONTHS. Organizing, weeding through things, refurbishing, painting, cleaning and fixing... and now we're really moving forward. But this morning, I realized I have learned another aspect of what it means to be "on call."

Our realtor said he will give us 24 hour notice for any possible showings, but that means I've got to be ready. I am, once again, "on call." Someone could want to come tomorrow, or it could be next week. It could be this Friday and possibly every day after that. I'll have to get my house together to showcase its most positive features, be sure that all evidence of toddler-hood is restrained to the boys' room and then find somewhere to relocate me and my boys during the showing. This could happen at any given time. I'm not a horrible housekeeper, but I'm already sick of how often I feel it's necessary to clean the bathroom mirrors, shine my stovetop and vacuum the hardwood just in case someone wants to come and see my house!

Sometimes, I miss those days of being carefree. Of sleeping in until noon on a Saturday just because you could. Of hearing a noise and allowing yourself to drift back into sleep because you knew someone else was taking care of it. Those days of zero responsibility and a clear mind. When all money you earned was spending money and the only thing you stressed about was if your parents were going to let you have a sleepover on Friday. Oh, those simple days.

Welcome to adulthood, Mindy. You've finally arrived. Now it's your turn to take over the responsibility while your boys enjoy a wonderful childhood, free from worry about what they're going to do about dinner, if they'll have a roof over their head and if their parents will still love eachother in thirty years. Your parents did it for you. Now it's time to extend the favor.

Oh, alright. Now, please excuse me while I go wash our windows. I've got a house to sell!