Mr. Mom

Since Melissa is pregnant, I have been trying to help out more around the house. This is not an announcement of my championship as a great husband or father, so please don’t think I am writing this to elicit those kinds of comments or thoughts. My point, rather, is that in doing some of these things, I renew more of my appreciation for her. I am reminded that what she does on a daily basis is different than the kind of work that I do, but it is massively important, and no less trying. In fact, the one thing that I have been reminded of during this time is how much of this gift of motherhood I do not have.

For example, this morning I got up at 6 AM to get the kids off to school, and I quickly discovered that the clothes each of them picked out for school was not appropriate, nor were there socks to accompany their outfits. I tried to be calm at first and began to assist my five year old on a quest to find these especially, and I soon learned that they were in the midst of one of 3 piles of laundry I was supposed to have folded and put up. As I rummaged very patiently through underwear and towels, I felt my patience rapidly decreasing, until my frustration reached an unholy crescendo, and I just emptied all of the clothes into the middle of the living room, which didn’t seem to help. In the meantime, my oldest daughter has barely moved from her perch on the end of the bed, and my other daughter is acting like she is ready, but her hair is not combed, her teeth are not brushed, and her clothes are all over the floor, all at the same time occurring while precious minutes tick off of the clock, and the bus is only five minutes away. After figuring out what to do about my son’s missing socks, and having to thread a belt through impossibly narrow loops on pants, I discover that my oldest daughter has gotten her clothes on, but she, too, doesn’t have socks, nor has she shown any measure of concern for this monumental tragedy. I tell her to look for socks (since initiative seems to have left her this early in the morning), and finally after about three times of nagging, discover that she has one sock half way on, and she is playing with these other socks on her hand. I calmly ask her why she is doing this, in light of not having done any of the things I have asked her to and the fact that the bus is a couple of blocks down the street, and she pauses and looks at her sister and says that her sister “made” her play with these socks. At this moment, I absolutely lose it, fly off the handle, and spank her, and so now she is crying on top of all of the other.

The amazing thing is that thirty minutes ago I felt like I would be able to navigate the morning with no problems at all, with grandiose visions of reading, journaling, praying, and drinking a good cup of coffee in quiet contemplation. Now, as my three out-of-the-womb kids run out of the door, barely catching the bus to school, and my wife rests in the next room with our fourth, I can barely imagine how we have made it thus far, and I can barely imagine how we will manage in the future, as sometimes I feel like a mad man going insane, wanting good things for my kids, but not knowing how to communicate that to them.

Epilogue to the Day: We had a great day at the doctor’s office, and Melissa and I took food to eat on the Black Water River for lunch, and I am about to eat supper with my family. Lexi has done a really good job at folding clothes, Alyssa has surprisingly done a thorough cleaning job in her room, and JT is …well, just JT, running around trying to be the center of attention. As I type this, I feel my eyes getting teary, because as insane as life gets sometimes I have to continue to fight to see the goodness, because I can’t imagine any world where they are not in it. Melissa, Alyssa, Alexis, and JT…and nameless Baby whom I know only through the sound and sight of a heartbeat (but for that reason has already brought me indescribable joy), I love you with all of my heart. I know I fail you many times, but I do love you and am glad you are part of my life.