Who's your number one?

It’s form time. Yes, that magical, meticulous, and mind-numbing time of year when parents are required to complete a new crop of paperwork for school, swimming, soccer, or any other activity that will enrich our children’s growth and development (and requires the purchase of uniforms, costumes, tickets, and/or a DVD). 

Name, nickname, gender, age, birthdate, address, phone number, parent(s) names, pediatrician’s name and phone number…a bevy of vital information to be crammed on narrow lines in your neatest four-point print.  And it all culminates with the emergency contact; the one to three people you deem responsible in case you cannot be reached during a crisis.

If there ever were a time when both my husband and I could not be contacted and my children needed something, who would I want to step in?  Who would I deem worthy?  

(Have I mentioned that I tend to over-think things? I’m female, Jewish, and a psychologist so I’m primed by both nature and nurture to question, analyze, reflect, and blame my mother.)

And so I ponder, I mull, I contemplate. Who shares my parenting values and style? Who do my children feel comfortable with? Who is easy to reach and likely to be home?  Who lives within a 10-mile-radius? Who is a good driver?  Who has any medical knowledge?  Whose cell phone number can I remember without actually having to get up? 

I don’t prepare an application packet or conduct interviews, but I do consider the candidates fairly seriously. I list attributes. I weigh characteristics. I shuffle standings. I focus mostly on the top spot as it seems there is an exponential difference between number one and number three. It’s hard to imagine a scenario that would necessitate my third alternate being called in, but sometimes you have to go deep into the bench.

Once the rankings are complete, the notification process begins. It doesn’t quite have the excitement of announcing Oscar nominees, but I feel it’s important to let my number one and two (and in some cases, number three) know they have made the list. 

However, I’m not sure what etiquette dictates for these conversations; is it polite to ask for someone’s permission to be included by inquiring, “Can I put you down as an emergency contact?” Or do you simply inform a person of your intentions by stating “I just wanted to let you know I am naming you as an emergency contact?” Although I’ve never had someone refuse my request, I can envision a Seinfeldian scenario where someone declines due to a conflict of interest, or simply already being overbooked on the emergency contact circuit. 

And am I obligated to disclose the rankings? What if someone only agrees to top billing? Or maybe someone only wants third place to minimize the likelihood that they will get called in for active duty?

Accordingly, I always feel a bit of angst when broaching the subject with my contacts-to-be.  Once the offer is made, the lag time between request and response can be terrifying.  Like the first time you utter the words “I love you” to a paramour, too long a pause or an awkward “thank you” can be humbling.  I certainly don’t expect my request to lead to an exclusive relationship and am fully prepared that my contact-to-be may have already filled their positions.  Yet when my intended responds “I put you down also,” it’s the emergency-contact-equivalent of “I love you too!”

The evolution of the rankings and relationships is a fascinating reminder of how my children and I have grown over the years.  This week I received a form from my older daughter’s school to review and was amazed at the first name listed – was there ever a time when this person could have made the list?  And how did she land the coveted top spot?  Even my husband questioned what she was doing there.  I have a vague recollection of a time when our friendship trajectory seemed to be heading in the worthy-of-an-emergency-contact direction, but I don’t remember getting serious enough to put it down on paper.  I guess I jumped in too quickly as I recall coming to a mutual realization that we were better suited as polite acquaintances. 

The second name listed is a constant and she has steadily climbed up in the rankings since her name first appeared on the emergency roster years ago.  The continuity is comforting and the choice is obvious.  I trust her judgment, I trust her driving, I trust her to actually answer her cell phone.  She’s the friend who I call first, the friend who I schedule weekly family dinners with, the friend who I actually miss when I haven’t seen for a few days.  She’s the friend who makes me laugh, lets me vent, and listens to me cry.  Using the label “friend” to describe her relationship to my child and myself doesn’t seem adequate, but maybe her place as my number one sums it up.

About this blog

Michelle Albright is a psychologist who has worked with schools across the country to develop, implement, and evaluate programs to promote children’s social-emotional health and academic achievement. She is a Weston resident and the director of Albright Educational Consulting (www.albrighteducationalconsulting.com).