Crying Over a Seadoo? Oh Please!!!

I wish I could say that the title of this post is the reaction of the mother to the child. Unfortunately, it is a commentary by the child to the mother- me being the mother of course.

Last week I was faced with a dilemma, which at one point was creating a chaos of unrealistic drama in my world. I have a love/hate relationship with anything electronic or mechanical in my life. I love the convenience and the entertainment that such items give me. However, the obstacle of not being able to maintain or repair any of these “toys” (in this case) has caused me to revert to a state of being the helpless woman in need of assistance…which is a status I have tried for years to overcome. To compound this helplessness, is the utter lack of desire I have to even learn how to “fix” anything that doesn’t have a beating heart, or lungs that breathe. Since January, I have had to make repairs to my gas-guzzling Tahoe (now sold!), my more fuel-efficient, but still mechanical Volvo, my camping trailer (also now sold!), my Seadoo (soon to be sold!!!), my lawn mower, and every single bicycle that clutters up my garage. Add up the time, the cost of repairs- including labour and tax- and the inconvenience this has caused me, and I am just about ready to move into my very own log cabin in the middle of the north where I can swim in the lake while hand washing my clothes, chop wood for my wood burning stove, hunt for my meat, pick berries for my fruit. Uhhh… maybe not. Where would I plug in my hair dryer?

My kids were ready to send me to our rental vacation cottage on my own though. My Seadoo had required unexpected repairs through the winter due to damage at the end of last summer. Off it went to the Seadoo dealer who I put my complete blinding trust in. I stored it in a friend’s shed for the rest of the winter, and forgot about it. During this “off-season” I did have the foresight to prepare my Volvo for the summer season of seadooing, as I had to have a hitch installed, as well as the wiring for the seadoo trailer hooked up. I felt so smug with my confidence in having thought of these things weeks before our trip north to the cottage. I was going to be prepared for our new family adventure. For many years, we have summered away at a family campground near Ipperwash. We spent hours at the beach with other families, and had many great campfire stories that we shared. It was time for a change, however. I wanted my children to explore their world beyond what they were already familiar with. I wanted them to step out of the comfort of their very “comfortable” lives. And the only way I could do that was by slowly easing them into different surroundings, making them more aware of how lucky they are to have this week in one of the most beautiful areas in Ontario.

Full of positive thoughts, plans started to unravel the week before we left. I was determined to make this work, and not let my kids see the stress level rising. The inaugural test drive of my Volvo pulling my seadoo home from my friend’s shed was the beginning of the slow melt. It was a hot humid night. My friend and her family were desperately trying to move all of their belongings out of their house to make way for the demolition of their house the following week. The misty humidity was gradually building into a spitting of rain. The last thing they wanted was to take the time to hook up my seadoo for our “fun” family vacation as they were looking at living in their shed/home/trailer for the next four months while their new house was being built. I wanted to get out of their way, and be on the road in short order. Then, we plugged in the trailer lights to the car. Hmm, only one running light working at the back; then no lights at all on the trailer. Check the hook up. All was where it should be. Check blinkers- no blinkers on car or trailer. Check brakes- no brake lights on car or trailer. Dashboard is now blindingly flashing out every warning message in its system that refers to the vehicle lighting system! It’s starting to get darker outside, the rain is increasing in intensity, and I know I need to get out of there so they can set up their temporary home. Last option- take my chances that I won’t meet any other cars on the road within the 10 km drive to my house, and drive with no lights on the car or trailer. There, I said it!!! I knowingly broke the law about a month ago, and didn’t get caught. Phew, that’s off my chest.

The Seadoo was now parked safely in my garage, in a space normally reserved for my car. At this point, I did not care if that water machine never moved from that spot until it was being towed away by a new owner. Maybe I just needed to wait for a new day to bring out the deeply hidden positive feelings I knew must be somewhere inside of me in regards to this big toy. No, next day I still resented it being in my parking spot. Along with that, another big obstacle had reared its ugly head in my mind of worries. I had not had this thing in the water since being repaired over the winter. How was I going to accomplish that? I couldn’t even tow it down my street legally.

“Mom I’m going to the beach on Sunday with a bunch of friends. We’re going to T’s boat and taking out his seadoos,” my oldest daughter informed me the week before we were to leave for our trek north to the cottage. Problem solved!!!!
“Do you think he would mind taking our seadoo to the lake that day and testing it out for us?” I asked her so sweetly.
“Uh, I guess so. You really want us to take it for the day?” she asked with a look of total surprise on her face.

As I stood in my driveway that Sunday morning watching a group of six teenagers eagerly packing up my expensive toy, I wasn’t so sure this was such a great idea anymore. Seadoo cover came off, and there was the battery lying on the back. Hmm, how does this go back in? Oh yes, I’m sure T’s dad will be able to hook this up for you when you get to his boat. My hitch doesn’t fit the back of T’s truck? Don’t worry, he has another one, although the ball is slightly smaller than the one on my hitch. It only jiggles a bit, and we made sure the chains were secure. Oh, and your electrical hook up has never been used, so that really is corrosion in that plug? As they drive away, I am once again faced with that dreaded question “Was that a bad mother thing to do?”

One hour later, Jessica and her friends now safely at the marina with T’s parents, and my cell phone rings.
“The battery is dead on the Seadoo mom (You have got to be kidding)…I don’t know why mom….Mom we can’t drive it…Mom talk to T’s Dad!”
T’s Dad “Joanne, you have to charge the battery after it’s been out for the winter. I will tow it home to my garage (fortunately he is a mechanic!) and I will get it running for you this week… No, there really is no way that the kids can test it out for you today. It will be ready for your trip to the cottage...”

Once again, the helpless female is left at the mercy of the mechanics of the world. Maybe I should look into “Mechanics for Dummies”.

This has got to be continued in the next post. There are too many more elements to my mechanical stress meltdown. Stay tuned for the fixing of the lights, the result of the travel dilemma, and finally arriving at the cottage. And just remember, I’m not making any of this up, although my kids sure wish that this was fiction!