Today was a long day at work. Not a bad day, just a long day. Lots going on, people needing things, that kind of thing. There were times when I had to quit my internet browsing and leave my office and do stuff. It was exhausting. It was the kind of day where all I wanted to do was come home, kick my shoes off, hop up on my bed, turn the TV on and crash. That’s when it happened. That’s when it always happens. One of my kids will come in and climb up on the bed with me. For those of you reading this that don’t have kids let me say 2 things. First of all, I’m sorry. If you don’t have kids, then this will be an extremely boring and pointless post so I would discourage you from reading further. The second thing I want to say to the childless out there is that the first kid that comes in is only the scout. They come in ahead of the invasion force. It seems nice when they climb into bed with you and snuggle up to you, but trust me, they are just getting you to drop your defenses in preparation for the landing party. Whatever thoughts you had about having some down time alone, forget them because it’s not happening. In about 5 minutes, your bed is going to swarming with little ones. And they know what they’re doing because they always send in the cutest one. This is usually one of the younger kids and all they really want is a hug, and the minute you let them up, it’s over. That was the position I found myself in. And of course, the Doctor Who episode I was about to watch wasn’t going to happen either, because she wants to watch Daniel the Tiger. And she doesn’t even have to pull out the big guns and start crying, she just looks at me with those big eyes and signs “tiger.” Let me tell you, when your 2-year-old starts talking, it adorable, beyond cute. The only thing cuter is when your deaf 2-year-old starts signing. And we are trying to encourage her to use her signs more, so of course when she asks for something we feel more obligated to give in. She knows this, and she knows that she now has all the power.
So that is how I found myself this evening after my long day at work, and I started thinking about it. When was the last time I had a moment alone without the kids at home? Now, if my wife is reading this (she claims to read all of my posts) she is probably rolling her eyes. She is probably thinking, “He has no idea.” And she’s right. She is at home with all 5 kids all day long, and my kids are needy. I don’t know if everyone’s kids are super needy, but my kids just don’t stop asking for stuff. Somehow, i lucked out in this deal because the kids have realized that whatever they need, mom does it better, so Dad can’t get them a drink because Mommy pours the Kool-Aid better somehow. Basically, my kids think I am completely incapable. So, I am sure that when my wife reads about me wondering when the last time was that the kids weren’t around she is just rolling her eyes. The point, though, is that I did remember. It was when we dropped our kids off with family and escaped. All the way to downtown Salt Lake City in April. Think about this, we were so desperate to get away that we dropped the kids off at someone else’s house and then stayed in a hotel that was in our same city. Why? Because if we had gone home, there was a chance that the kids would have escaped and found us. I wasn’t willing to take that chance. The last time before April, was probably Christmas, 2006, right before our oldest was born.
That’s what happens when you have kids, and that’s what happens when you have 5 kids all under the age of 8. My wife has spent more time in our marriage being pregnant than not pregnant, and it’s not even close. Once the kids start coming there is no me time anymore. There’s barely any “couple time” anymore. There is just family time when you’re home. Ok, obviously we had some couple time after the kids started coming along because the first kid was followed by kid number 2 and so on. The problem with family time is that it happens all the time. The kids are always there and you always feel like if you’re not spending time with them, then you are wasting that time. What is more important than sitting down and playing with your kid? Ok, right now, for me, it’s writing this blog post.
Why do we do it? What happens that makes it so we turn our whole lives over to these little people? Why do we put them in charge? It doesn’t make sense, really. We are bigger, smarter, faster, more coordinated. In an actual, physical power struggle, there is no way the kids come out on top. Even if they ganged up on me and my wife, and even though they out number us 5-2, I still think we could take them. So why do I find myself eating imaginary cupcakes, and playing horsey, watching the episode of Barney for the umpteenth time? I will tell you why. Something happens when that baby is born. You realize that you don’t matter. Your wife doesn’t matter. Neither of you really matter all that much compared to the kids. They matter. They become, almost instantly the most important people in the world to you. When you hold that baby for the first time, at least with the first baby, you really have no idea how tiring or thankless a job it is to be a parent, but you do know that there pretty much nothing you would do for this baby.
It’s not thankless, though. I’ll be honest, I love to tell people about my kids and spending time with my kids. They think I am a good dad and I give up so much for them, but the truth is, I am in this for me. There is nothing better in the world than spending time with my kids. Nothing better than when I walk in the door and my girls scream with excitement and fight over who is going to give me a hug first. There is nothing better than my two oldest kids fighting over who is going to sit by me. When my son comes up to me and says, “Daddy, will you come watch My Neighbor Totoro with me?” my first thought is ugh…not again. Then I do it because it is always worth it. My kids think I am the coolest guy in the world right now, and that does a lot for my ego. Someday, they’re going to figure it out. Someday they are going to meet a really cool dad, and realize that their dad was…well…not cool. Then it will all stop. They’ll be embarrassed to be seen with me out in public and want nothing to do with me at home. In other words, I am not going to be this amazing rock star/super hero forever in their eyes, so i might as well fill the ego canteen now. That’s why I spend so much time with them. I like to tell people it all about them, but really, it’s about me and how rewarding it is for me. If my kids ask you, though, tell them it’s really because Daddy loves them more than anything in the world. That might be the truth anyway.
1 response to “Good Times”
I love this post! And do t kid yourself… Even though they won’t show it, you will always be “the coolest”. Good job!