Being the one that is around the kids during the week and their chaperone for the majority of the day, I am the bad guy. You are more than welcome to ask them who their favorite parent is and without the slightest hesitation you hear cries of Mommy in three part harmony. I attribute this to several different factors.
I tend to be the primary rule enforcer and have been since the start of being the stay at home dad. I run this house as a benevolent dictator, to do so other wise would result in absolute chaos. I ensure rooms are clean, meals are eaten and cleaned up from, kids don't fight, break things, vandalize the home, Bathe kids, Dogs go unharmed, Children go unharmed, homework is done, and all the other things that must happen on a daily basis. This makes me a parent not a fun time friend.
My wife of course gets to spend less time with the kids and as such her time is a little more fun filled, outings, and shopping, going out to eat, crafts, and all the fun stuff. Over the past five years the children have come to associate fun and party time with the wife and rules and daily responsibility with me. Don't get me wrong, my wife takes her turns enforcing rules and a lot of the time it seems harder for her to get the kids to listen without really losing her temper and I've noticed that when it comes to grandparents the kids hardly listen at all, however I can just whistle and snap and the kids all come to attention and normally do what I ask so it has it's privileges. All in all I am ok with this, I love taking care of my children and it's going to break my heart when I enter the work force and don't get to see them as much.
Wednesday, January 28, 2015
Wednesday, January 21, 2015
Joy of Children example 2035.
My kids are in gymnastics and they go every Tuesday at 4:30. They get out of school everyday at 3:00 and the gymnastics place is a thirty minute drive from the house, so every Tuesday is a rush to get home do home work, get them changed and fed a snack before we go. Yesterday was no different from the normal hustle and bustle, except for one minor detail, which is what this blog is about.
For snack that day they chose to have Cheetos and jolly ranchers before we packed up and left. We all got into the car and I put Justice League on for them to watch as we make the trek across town to exercise. The drive was fine and dandy, the kids were quiet and engrossed in the adventures of Superman and crew doing battle with the evil aliens set on the destruction of earth.
We pull into the parking lot and my daughter comes up behind me crying and says "Daddy I'm sick."
I turn in my seat to see that she was in fact sick and had thrown up a delightful color palette of red number 5 and Cheeto orange all down the front of her leotard. The boys, as they are, were cheering with the ewww's and gross while my daughter sobbed gently and held her hands up in a kind of "what are you going to do?" expression. Well gentle reader let me tell you there was not a lot of options available to me at that point seeing as I had no change of clothes and little to no cleaning supplies to tend such an emergency. I decided that it would be best if we just went home.
The drive home was a delight of smells and sounds emerging from the recesses of the minivan and the boys cheered on the projectile emissions of their sister, who to her credit did a great job of keeping the majority of the issue in her lap. We get home and I have the delightful job of extracting her from this miasma of bile and junk food only to behold the paint scheme she had added to the car seats and floor board. I get her cleaned up first. get the soiled clothing in the laundry and muck out the back of my minivan.
I would be remiss to not mention that I was reminded of the scene in Pulp Fiction where Jules and Vincent had to clean up the mess in the back of the car. Someone somewhere once said that children are a joy for ever. They must have be laughing at their friend's stories.
For snack that day they chose to have Cheetos and jolly ranchers before we packed up and left. We all got into the car and I put Justice League on for them to watch as we make the trek across town to exercise. The drive was fine and dandy, the kids were quiet and engrossed in the adventures of Superman and crew doing battle with the evil aliens set on the destruction of earth.
We pull into the parking lot and my daughter comes up behind me crying and says "Daddy I'm sick."
I turn in my seat to see that she was in fact sick and had thrown up a delightful color palette of red number 5 and Cheeto orange all down the front of her leotard. The boys, as they are, were cheering with the ewww's and gross while my daughter sobbed gently and held her hands up in a kind of "what are you going to do?" expression. Well gentle reader let me tell you there was not a lot of options available to me at that point seeing as I had no change of clothes and little to no cleaning supplies to tend such an emergency. I decided that it would be best if we just went home.
The drive home was a delight of smells and sounds emerging from the recesses of the minivan and the boys cheered on the projectile emissions of their sister, who to her credit did a great job of keeping the majority of the issue in her lap. We get home and I have the delightful job of extracting her from this miasma of bile and junk food only to behold the paint scheme she had added to the car seats and floor board. I get her cleaned up first. get the soiled clothing in the laundry and muck out the back of my minivan.
I would be remiss to not mention that I was reminded of the scene in Pulp Fiction where Jules and Vincent had to clean up the mess in the back of the car. Someone somewhere once said that children are a joy for ever. They must have be laughing at their friend's stories.
Wednesday, January 14, 2015
Well now Christmas is over and a new year has begun.
It would seem that I am soon to join the working force and my time of being a Stay at home dad is coming to a close. The kids are 5 about to become 6 and I have had the best time being with them since they were babies.
Five is a magical time in the life of a child. Santa becomes this fully realized figure and the magic of Christmas takes hold to the delight of parents and children who play at this time. The thing about triplets is that we have a constant battle of "keeping it even." We always have to make sure that Santa gives equal gifts to all the kids in size and scope. It would never do to have a child feel singled out as better or worse than the others. Same with the stockings.
All that said the kids are spoiled in a manner unheard of in my life a child. They have Three sitting around a tree un wrapping present parties. Christmas morning at my home. Then my Dad's house and then the In-law's house. to say my house becomes a wasteland of toys and empty battery packs in an understatement. Christmas Morning we went through three packs of double AAs and a pack of triple AAAs. half of which was to support the nefarious Santa work.
I love my kids and love seeing their faces in the morning though I worry about their privilege and entitlement. I want to them to realize how lucky they are. These kids have their own bedrooms and a playroom and toys in every nook and cranny of the house. In the words of parents the world over, you only get one childhood, so what is the harm?
The kids are currently in gymnastics and about to have their 6th birthday party at a arcade. Hopefully by that time I will have good job and I will have to retool my writing schedule if I can remember to continue. Until next time.
Five is a magical time in the life of a child. Santa becomes this fully realized figure and the magic of Christmas takes hold to the delight of parents and children who play at this time. The thing about triplets is that we have a constant battle of "keeping it even." We always have to make sure that Santa gives equal gifts to all the kids in size and scope. It would never do to have a child feel singled out as better or worse than the others. Same with the stockings.
All that said the kids are spoiled in a manner unheard of in my life a child. They have Three sitting around a tree un wrapping present parties. Christmas morning at my home. Then my Dad's house and then the In-law's house. to say my house becomes a wasteland of toys and empty battery packs in an understatement. Christmas Morning we went through three packs of double AAs and a pack of triple AAAs. half of which was to support the nefarious Santa work.
I love my kids and love seeing their faces in the morning though I worry about their privilege and entitlement. I want to them to realize how lucky they are. These kids have their own bedrooms and a playroom and toys in every nook and cranny of the house. In the words of parents the world over, you only get one childhood, so what is the harm?
The kids are currently in gymnastics and about to have their 6th birthday party at a arcade. Hopefully by that time I will have good job and I will have to retool my writing schedule if I can remember to continue. Until next time.
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