Skip to main content

I fear my kids

I fear my kids.

Not like I fear becoming impoverished, or old.  And its not a fear like I had about vampires when I was 10.  But its bad enough that there are days when I literally hate coming out of my office to go take over care of the kids.

Partly because, despite never occurring in 23 months, I’m afraid they will one day just fall apart.  They will start crying for a reason I can’t understand and never do.  And it doesn’t have to be in a public setting; I’m talking about in my own home.

But most its because I’m plodding.  I enjoy a meandering routine allowing for exploration and to be distracted by whatever strikes my fancy.  If you have children, you know this is not a demeanor well-suited for children.  If you don’t have children, I’m telling you now: this is not a demeanor well-suited for children.

I enjoy the slow pace of activities like reading and chess.  Don’t get me wrong; the kids love to read and my kids could play chess.  The reading just entails books like Clifford the Big Red Dog and picture books.  Not exactly my cup of tea (hey, I enjoy that, as well!).

My kids also play chess with me.  The game is a new, aerial version we are working on.  Without giving away too many trade secrets: the queen now advances in literally any direction as far as your eye can see; all the other pieces move likewise and a there is a new piece, called the Bicuspided Bishop.  The game board consists of any space within a four-wall boundry.

Another example: I don’t mind sitting on the front porch watching the cars roll by.  The kids enjoy this as well, but only fleetingly. 

The whole time, I’m counting in minutes or hours.  “Well, that is 5 minutes of time killed; only 35 more till R arrives home.”

For them, it’s been 3,000 seconds and they are about 1,500 second past ready to move on. In case you wondered about the math above: I’ve calculated based on observation that a child’s minute contains 600 seconds.

You see, its not that I can’t handle my kids; I can.  And its not that they aren’t good kids; they are absolutely the best kids in the world.  The problem is that my meandering style isn’t suited to them.  I need time for self-reflection, time alone to recharge.

You lose that when you have a kid.  It gets totally obliterated when you have 3 at once.


Popular posts from this blog

Parenting As A Two-Edged Sword

A) The other day I took time out of my schedule to play dolls with my daughter.

B) The other day, I took time away from playing dolls with my daughter to cook dinner.

Which really happened? A, or B?

From a certain perspective, both are true. As Obi wan Kenobi warned:

What I told you was true… from a certain point of view
In the moment, I considered myself a heroic Dad. Here I was, valiantly cooking dinner for the kids and their Mom while also managing to get in some one-on-one time with one of the kids. And playing one of her favorite things, too boot. That is perspective A. 
But it occurred to me that from her perspective (B), what I was saying might not be true. 
Instead of a Dad demonstrating superpowers of multi-tasking, she might simply be seeing me as too busy to really give her my full attention. 
When I look back in 10 years I might well remember the hectic but great times when I played dolls with her while cooking.
And as a teen, she may well look back as at a Dad too consumed with…

I Really Should...

... write an ode to Yunnan jig tea. It's great, honestly.  Smooth and delightful with just the right amount of punchy flavor.  Not coffee, but nicely caffeinated.  If you don't know what I'm talking about, find some loose leaf Yunnan jig and brew away.  May I suggest something from

... creatively write more.  I have a few story ideas.  At least 3, including the one I've already written and desperately need to edit and round out.  But its such a ... chore.  I really like reading, and I don't mind writing.  I actually enjoy writing one-off stuff like I do here.  But putting together 75k-100k in a complete order that makes sense and completes a story arc?  Ugh. Its all ... so much.  Blame my years in journalism, where I write tons of one-off stuff where the narrative is kind of half written for

(Speaking of this blog and writing)

... post more here.  As with all things, I guess, time is hard to find, whilst being a poor excuse.

... think before I agree…

The Dark Months

The holidays are over.  It only seems like life is over.

There is a solid three month period where holidays of various degrees are hitting you one-two-three style.  You have Halloween, which takes some of the sting out of the cooling temperatures and the disappearance of summer.  You have Thanksgiving, with rare foods and the promise of Christmas. 

Then you have a month of prepping and joy for Christmas.  You are so busy, you hardly notice how cold it has gotten.  And this year it got pretty darn cold.  And then Christmas itself.  My wife and I take a week off between Christmas and New Years, so we have that. 

Its a period so full of life.  And then the aforementioned NYE - when the cold decided to take it up a notch.

With triplets, its a little like being shot out of a cannon and taking three months to land.

But when you land, you land firmly in what I call the Dark Months.

There are no more holidays.  Yes, I realize MLK and Presidents Day are in January and February, and yes, I know…