First Soccer Camp

I find it funny how we project our own preferences on our children. Whether it is career choices or sports, I imagine all parents are guilty of this in some form.

Case in point: I am already drilling into Nicholas’ head that he is a Manchester United fan. I even envision him to be a United player. So much so that when I took him to his first “organized” soccer camp, I was looking forward to him playing well beyond his years.

I can see him now, snarling in the middle of field like the former Manchester United captain Roy Keane as the Irishman did while stamping his authority on the game. Or perhaps he will run through the opposing players like they are not even there like the wily, intelligent Welshman Ryan Giggs. Both are United legends and young Nicholas will be firmly on his way to being one too after this practice session.

So imagine my amusement when the coach said “Everyone to the white line. We are going to dribble the ball to the cones and back.” Everyone except Nicholas that is.

He took off running in the opposite direction, laughing the entire time. With me chasing him. As I got close he fell on the ground laughing so hard he could hardly breathe. After bringing him back to the line so we can complete the drill, he picked up the ball and took off again. You guessed it: I am right behind him; chasing him this time in a complete different direction.

So maybe the lucrative contract from Sir Alex Ferguson will have to wait a few years, decades even. For now I will just envision the little Pookster running, falling down and laughing with his Dad trying to catch up. All the while laughing too.

Super Bowl Time! Or is it??

Earlier tonight there was the small matter of a football game that saw the Packers of Green Bay matching medieval swords with the Steelers of Pittsburgh. Game should be exciting except on my television screen was a cartoon of a little four year boy with a funny name (Caillou) and my son nestled in my lap enjoying his favorite program.

Not much more to say in this blog post.

You are Gonna Miss This!

While visiting a client recently I had to reach underneath a desk to retrieve something and my glasses fell off my face. They are somehow twisted and not sitting right thanks to the work of my two toddlers. See what had happened was: A few days earlier while at home, I took my glasses off briefly only to later hear something fall to the ground. Upon investigation I found both kids standing over the glasses looking down at it and then looking up at me with the look that said “I don’t know what happened!”

Try as I might I could not get one to roll on the other so the mystery of whose fingerprints are at the scene remains unsolved. So I am stuck with busted glasses that I have not found the time to go and get repaired.

Anyway, I had to use one hand to poke the frame back on my face and hold it in place and the other to reach for the item in question. When I sat back down I started laughing to myself. Not to worry: I was alone in the office at the time so no one would think I am losing it.

But then I got to thinking; as a parent you have myriads of stories that pile up as time goes on which represent memories that you can look back on and smile. The old reminiscing feeling no doubt take over as you fondly think “I remember when they did this…” or “I remember when they did that…” Whatever “it” is you would gladly tell every living soul who would listen about those times. And when those souls are tired of hearing the same stories over and over you would gladly tell the cat!

One thing is for sure, I am going to miss those times, the times represented in the stories that are told to anyone within earshot. And every parent has them. Each story is a chapter of a much longer story and represents a new stage in the kids’ lives that is gone and you can’t get back but you do miss.

Worries Never Cease

Being a parent I find I worry about everything. From sleeping habits to speech, from playing or roughhousing to dietary preferences. It is never ending. Think about it – if Nicholas keeps getting up in the middle of the night I worry about why he is not sleeping through the night. And when he does sleep through the night I worry if he is sick and just wants to sleep and sleep and sleep.

If he eats everything on his plate I worry if he is eating too much but if he doesn’t eat everything I worry if he is eating enough. And so it is with going to preschool or day care or whatever fancy word there is. I worry if keeping them home would negatively impact their development but at the same time worry if they are ready to go out to school.

Speaking of preschool, I worry about Nicholas having separation anxiety when we decide to put him into preschool but I will worry if he doesn’t shed at least one tear over it.

I worry about temper tantrums and at the same time worry about….. well temper tantrums!

I worry about what career path Angeline will choose and then worry when she tells me. Why? Because I have my own preconceived notions about what she should choose.

I will worry when Angeline, Jodi and Nicholas start dating but will worry if at an appropriate age they are not (well not so much for Angeline and Jodi - they can start dating when they are like forty - five or so).

I used worry about Jodi not saying Mommy for a long time. Now I worry if she doesn’t say Daddy when I walk through the door.

I used to worry about the kids not yet talking and someday I worry that they will never stop. (Aw come on you know what I mean!)

I worry that the list above is not a complete list and thus worry that I will have lot more to worry about as they grow up.

Quite frankly I worry about the fact that I worry so much.

Sleep Interrupted

Milk? Milk Please?

That was Nicholas requesting a cup of milk, so I got up and trudged downstairs, opened the refrigerator poured his milk and took it back upstairs. On my way back up my eyes wandered over the clock on the microwave.

3:05.

AM.

At that moment, one of my favorite expressions flashed across my mind.

You have got to be kidding me!

That was the thought but really this is the norm. Welcome to parenthood.

It is not unusual for me to have this late night interruption. After all Nicholas does love to stroll over at some point during the night to our bed. Or maybe the interruption is Jodi crying in her sleep. Sometimes I hear a phantom cry. Other times I wake up expecting to hear a cry which doesn't happen. But it doenst matter. I am up anyway. One thing is for sure: my sleep from this point on has been interrupted.

Permanently.

If you have told me twelve years ago that I would be yearning for uninterrupted sleep, I would have laughed. After all, I pioneered the concept of “sleep days”. Here is how Sleep Days work: it was one day a week where I would go to sleep the moment I got home. This was back from my college days when I worked and went to school at nights. So one day each week I would not work late, no homework or studying. Just sleep.

But those days are over. The brutal truth is that once you are a parent a good night’s sleep is one of those little things that you are eternally grateful for when it happens. Because the moment you take that little bundle of joy home, your sleep just got interrupted. On a permanent basis.

At this rate I may end up being the one crying!