Monday, July 4, 2011

And one day blurs into the next

 June was a tough month - a month of difficult transitions. I started back to work, leaving Julie to continue working part time with no daycare for Emily. Emily decided that she no longer wanted to take an afternoon nap and gave her parents tremendous anxiety over her sleep in general. Chloe couldn't understand why the sun went to bed so late and got up so early and, as a consequence, she neither went to bed early enough nor slept in late enough. And I was frustrated that I couldn't get any time to work on the basement, which is a half renovated mess right now. All-in-all, nothing to be too concerned about. You might even consider us lucky to be burdened with such mundane crises.

Still, the incessant demands, the lack of personal time and the daily obligations - both at home and at work, do take their toll and I find myself at times wondering when things will let up a bit. Last week Julie and I watched Date Night, with Steve Carell and Tina Fey, and were surprised that we didn't find it as funny as we ought to have. The basic premise is that this bland couple from the suburbs, who have no time to love each other properly or to do much else other than to take care of their whiny, needy, energy and creativity sucking children, accidentally get themselves involved in a high stakes crime drama on one of their pre-planned date nights. Talk about holding a mirror up to ourselves. Shit, for us, it wasn't a story, but more of a documentary,  minus the high stakes crime drama - ouch, even more depressing.

As I write this, I'm conscious of the fact that Julie and I are trying to schedule a babysitter so we can have our own scheduled date nights. Mabye we can go out in Vanier to make it more exciting (for Torontonians, think Scarborough - no, not that bad but the best we can do in Ottawa).

Ah well, I remind myself that this will pass. While we'll always be parents, we won't always be parents of young rug rats, and we should appreciate the small moments of magic - several per day, that come with the mind-numbing neediness.

Today I came home, opened the door, and Chloe was there to greet me. "Hi Daddy, how's it going?" she said, with her best-behaved voice. "Great Chloe, how are you?" "I'm doing well. How was your day at work today?" "It was good Chloe. I sure missed you. Can I get a hug?" "Yes. Daddy, let's play games together quietly while Mommy's putting Emily to bed." "O.k."

These moments almost make up for the the trying times, and with her wonderful welcome tonight I almost forgot that she pooed in her underwear this morning right before we had to go out the door. Yes, pooed, and yes, she knew what she was doing.

I have to admit it. I'm looking forward to date night.