I woke up with the brilliant idea that maybe I should quit my job and study to become a fight director like Roberta Brown. She is, after all, from Rhode Island, and I’m from Rhode Island. I’ve had mime, ballet and fencing training. Maybe this is my calling? Wouldn’t it be fun to put together something like this:
Not that I’m making an excuse for not blogging in so long, but one child is a hobby, two is a lifestyle. I don’t know how people manage with more. Not that I’m complaining - I love the double whammy that starts with a hungry baby at 4am and a delighted 4-year-old at 5:30 launching herself into the bed just as the baby and I start to fall back asleep. My wife loves it so much she’s taking to sleeping upstairs a couple of times a week.
And so begins the storm. We herd Sylvia through her morning routine and try to put some nourishment into the baby. We drop the kids at day care and somehow our thoughts of them leave our minds. I wonder if its better to be able to forget your kids for eight hours or to spend eight hours with them while desperately waiting for your spouse to come home and give you a break. I think the human mind will find a way to complain no matter how wonderful our lives are.
In the evening, we swoop into day care and cart them back home. I wonder if I’m a lousy parent because I set Sylvia in front of the TV with a cup of milk and a snack while I feed the dog, have a stiff drink snack and take care of Meredith. Perhaps I should just break the TV someday. Perhaps I should break the computer too! Heheh. We’ll see how much blogging is done then! And so on, until the power struggle at dinner, tears, reconciliation, a story and bedtime. Maybe parenting benefits me by keeping me grounded in a simple, bland routine – maybe bland simplicity is the key to happiness.
I guess I’m happy, in a tired and self-doubting kind of way. It reminds me of a great song by Paul Thorn:
I guess that I’m a lucky man
I guess that everything ain’t all that bad
There’s always somebody with less
I realize that I am blessed
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