Friday, May 23, 2003

One of the single hardest things about being a parent, and a stay-at-home parent in particular, is that there's no vacation time. Even when you're away, you're still a parent, and you're probably still thinking about your kids, at least in part. And when you're home, you begin to cherish naptime and bedtime, but it still hardly counts as time off. This is the reality, and I'm not complaining. You get used to it. And the payoffs are big. Yesterday, however, was one of those days--classic mood swing. The kids were absolutely fine--Reeve was pretty happy and playful, Mercedes was cute and no more demanding that 2 year olds usually are (which, of course, is pretty damned demanding). A fairly standard day, really, no one too cranky, no one sick. I was just not into it, though. It was one of those days, not driven by anything in particular, during which I did not want to be the responsible parent. I wasn't depressed or angry. I just found myself staring out the window while Mercedes said "Daddy! Daddy! Read this book! Please! Daddy!" and thinking "I don't want to do this today." A simple fact. I didn't want to do it. But I did. You have to, right? Only a small percentage of super-jerkoffs don't do their work as parents. And I feel better today. It's nothing every parent doesn't go through. At some point, and this wasn't the first time nor will it be the last, parents just think "I don't want to do this today." It's a fact. Mercedes could see it on my face. She's an incredibly affectionate child. She came up to me and said "Daddy? You sad? Want to hug Daddy. Wuv you, Daddy." While that last part is absolutely true, I only wrote it to make my mom cry. It did help, though. And today? I'm fine. Ready to change diapers and read books and deal with crying and clean up messes all day long. Let's roll. 2:03:56 PM    Let's hear it. []