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!

A Prayer Story Part 2

Children are so observant and they do watch everything that we do. I always knew that but to have a real experience that provides confirmation of that exemplifies knowing something in theory and having practical experience in it. Of the difference between academics and real world experience. Until you see your child do or say something that you yourself consider routine, then the opening statement of this post will remain an abstract piece of theory.

 

After having the experience of Nicholas' request for prayer in the car in the prior post, I had another such experience that brought the theory to light. Early one morning while running late to a networking event, I paused so we could once again pray as a family before we left the house. We all held hands and Nicholas started praying. Now for most of the prayer we couldn't make out the words except somewhere in the prayer we heard him say "...... and Mommy and [Jodi]....... Amen".

 

Okay so Daddy got left out of the prayer but I was moved nonetheless. We make it a point to call names when we pray and he was copying that. Truly heart warming and made me glow within as I got my day started.

A Prayer Story Part 1

On a recent Saturday morning, I decided to take Jodi and Nicholas to the park so Mommy could get to sleep in, a rarity nowadays. So after being awaken by the alarm clock (Nicholas), I rounded up the troops and got them showered and dressed. Jodi even allowed me to comb her hair (Like Mommy, she usually gives me the "Watch the Hair" look!). After getting them dressed and preparing breakfast, we started toward the door. Departure was delayed though for a few minutes as Jodi needed a diaper change. Leaving the house is more complex than just jumping in the car.

After getting Jodi a fresh diaper and ensuring that there was no more holdups, we started out again. After strapping both kids in the car seat I jumped behind the wheel and paused just long enough to silently say a quick prayer. You see, it is standard in my household to pray before leaving the house each day. After completing the prayer, I put the car in gear and was about to start driving when I heard "Let us pray Daddy". That was Nicholas. Okay so the words were not as clear. But I definitely made out the words "pray" and "daddy". To emphasize his request, he reached for Jodi's hand and mine and we held hands while I prayed. Aloud this time. At this point I should probably amend an earlier sentence.

It is standard for us to hold hands and pray.

Together.

As a family.

Each day.

Before leaving the house.

A little reflection

I love being a Dad. Said another way, I love being a father. Often times I reflect on the days my kids were born and remember the promises made to each one. I remember promising them the world, being the best father I could be. I was a proud beaming father on each of those three occasions, believing that I could move the world.

Now as the years roll by and I remember those promises made, I wonder if I am living up to them. I don’t have any regrets. But I do want to believe I am making good on those promises and my kids are getting the best father possible. Every once in a while I wonder how good a job I am doing.

I want to believe that I am not just limiting the imperfections, but actually striving for perfection itself.

Recently, I attended an information session for a start up non-profit that I was invited to be a part of and the speaker, as he presented his idea for the mission of the organization, mentioned that kids in general do not understand fully the sacrifices that parents make for them. Not until they become parents themselves.

I am inclined to agree but more importantly I wonder if as a parent I am sacrificing enough. Or if I am sacrificing in the right areas, making the right decisions. Life as a father is now a delicate juggling act because of all the hats I am required to wear. I have to ensure that amidst all the efforts in working and building a business to provide for my children’s needs and then some, I am not neglecting the essence of being a Dad. I would hate to gain the forest and realize that there are no trees in it.

I suppose my questions will be answered once my kids grow up. I know though in my mind now that I appreciate all the sacrifices my Dad made for me.

And it is times like now when I self evaluate, that I reiterate to myself to keep pushing that bar for perfection and maintain that balancing act.

And oh yes, when I look at and think of them, I still think I can move the world!