March 17, 2011

My Daughters, The Girls with One Parent and a Butler

My wife is amazing.

I cannot express this as eloquently, nor as often, as she deserves, so I will simply keep restating it throughout this entry, using differing adjective and modifiers.  While the placement may seem to indicate the contrary, I assure you that there is no sarcasm meant at all.  She is so amazing that I can't even put it into words.

My wife is incredible.

She is currently a stay-at-home mom, taking care of our rambunctious and precious genetic bundles cleverly disguised as poop-machines.  Her endless patience, which was forged in the fires of my incompetence as a husband and human being, is serving her well.  She is tired, but happy.  I come home from work, exhausted, frustrated and disenfranchised and I am often greeting by smelly bundles of stickiness.  (See my earlier post for how I feel about this.)

My wife is astonishing.

I am, as I've said before in this post, as well as in others, an incompetent buffoon.  I want to help, but I rarely see what I can do.  If directed, I perform (I think) admirably, but without direction, I often find myself in the way, trailing behind my wife like a lost puppy, waiting for someone to throw a stick for me.

I try.  I really do.  Occasionally, I look around the house and wonder what I can straighten, or clean, or put away, or vacuum, but not as often as I should and certainly not with the same thorough eye that would get me my own show on BBC or Style Network.

What I do know to do automatically, is to either distract Harper, or hold Brynn, which need seems more immediate to relieve my wife.  Castle Sara is usually besieged by the united barbarian hordes of Infantium and Toddleria.  The defenses of the castle have held strong throughout the day, but the parapets are weakening and the longbowmen are running low on arrows. Reinforcements from the west, lead by the self-deprecating knight, Justin the Sometimes-Useful, arrive just in time to sweep off the invaders with their soiled smallclothes. (Clearly, I've been reading too much Ken Follett).

Harper, however, seems to think that, in spite of the overwhelming mountain of evidence to the contrary, her mother is going to ignore her, forget about her, or sell her to science to be used for medical experiments.  As a result of this, it is increasingly difficult to give Sara couple of moments of peace.  When I sweep Harper away, she starts to cry.  I haven't been able to give her a bath that lasts longer than it take to lather and her hair and giver a cursory rinse because the screams of "MAMA" echo painfully in our small bathroom.  When Sara is feeding Brynn, Harper NEEDS to be climbing up to sit with them and my taking her away to play with her only makes her more upset.  Lat week, when I tried to put Harper to bed after her bath, she laid in my arms, screamed at the top of her lungs and kicks her legs.  For 10 minutes.  Finally, Sara came in and traded out with me,putting her to bed in less than 3 minutes.

It sure was nice of me to sit and listen to all that screaming so that Sara wouldn't have to.  What a considerate guy I am...

My wife is a wonderful wife and mother and I am amazed by her on a daily basis.

With things going poorly at work (made even worse and more foreboding by news of last nights school board meeting), teachers being the punching bag of the country lately, the impending increase in cost of daycare, and the apparent failure of my latest plan to get in shape (not giving up yet though...) the fact that my daughter, whom I love with all of my heart has been thoroughly rejecting me whenever Sara is in the house, is almost more than I can bear.  My mood has been horrendous lately and I've been taking it out on the wrong people (not that there are any people on whom it would be appropriate to take it out.)

The worst part for me is that I feel worse than useless.  An absentee father/husband isn't expected to do anything to help.  The wife/mother already knows that she's not getting any assistance.  I should be doing more, but Harper won't let me.  She simply will not come to me when Sara is around.

I think even that it a cop-out for my own laziness.  See?  There I go feeling sorry for myself, when I should be helping my wife.

I know I usually try to keep this blog happy and upbeat, but this is a topic that I've been thinking about almost constantly and I needed to get it down.

In any event, as I may have mentioned before, I am amazed by my wife and I hope that I can become even half the parent that she is.

Pictures.  More later when I'm somewhere that I can upload them.

Apparently, we REALLY need a jungle gym.  Garage Sale season, here we come!



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