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Christopher Spicer
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It has become tradition that when our baby almost turns 5 months that Emily hops on a plane and hides out in the United States for close to a week and leaves me with the child. The weeks leading up to this occasion, people have asked me if I could handle playing solo parent. My response has always been that I survived just fine when it was just me and five month old Everett, so I couldn't see why it would be any different now. Everyone accepted that response, despite the fact that I've neglected to mention it really isn't the same at all.
Last time it was me, a 5 month old, and Summit. This time there is still me, a five month old and the dog, but there is also now a rather active 3 year old. A 3 year old that has it in his head that since mommy is gone that it will be a festival of candy flying from the ceiling, constant watching of movies, and rodeo contests with the dog. Now, I look after Everett and Danika a few nights every week due to Emily's footy practice, but somehow the idea that mom is off in another country means that anarchy should be allowed this time. Luckily, as long as I say things like doing the dishes or helping me change Danika's diaper is the greatest and most fun in the world, he seems pretty happy for that as an alternative to turning the kitchen into a slip and slide.
Emily has been gone since around 7:30 this morning, and everything is still intact and I haven't lost any more hair. Or at least, no more than I seem to lose on a daily basis. The biggest catastrophe was Danika deciding she drank enough from the bottle today and wanted to see what my nipple could provide. Luckily, she doesn't have any teeth to catch my chest hair.
I do find it funny that everyone fears my ability to survive with two kids while I don't think the same concern would be thrown upon Emily. It would just sort of be expected she could handle that. It may be partly that people realize that I work from home and it is hard to get a lot of articles done while trying to remind Everett that Summit isn't a horse or that Danika indeed can't fly. I sort of went into these five days with the idea that any work I can get done is gravy. I find it amusing that moms are expected to handle stuff like this all the time but dads are heroes when they have to do the exact same thing.
No matter what ends up happening, I'll be awesome. I have the greatest kids in the world. Sorry if you thought you did, but it wasn't true. Even if pee puddles or crying festivals sometimes get thrown into the mix, more often I find myself melting inside when they smile up at me or just win me over with the countless amusing things they do each day. So, five days where I get all that joy to myself, I can handle that. Or at least I say that now, since night number one isn't over yet.
Last time it was me, a 5 month old, and Summit. This time there is still me, a five month old and the dog, but there is also now a rather active 3 year old. A 3 year old that has it in his head that since mommy is gone that it will be a festival of candy flying from the ceiling, constant watching of movies, and rodeo contests with the dog. Now, I look after Everett and Danika a few nights every week due to Emily's footy practice, but somehow the idea that mom is off in another country means that anarchy should be allowed this time. Luckily, as long as I say things like doing the dishes or helping me change Danika's diaper is the greatest and most fun in the world, he seems pretty happy for that as an alternative to turning the kitchen into a slip and slide.
Emily has been gone since around 7:30 this morning, and everything is still intact and I haven't lost any more hair. Or at least, no more than I seem to lose on a daily basis. The biggest catastrophe was Danika deciding she drank enough from the bottle today and wanted to see what my nipple could provide. Luckily, she doesn't have any teeth to catch my chest hair.
I do find it funny that everyone fears my ability to survive with two kids while I don't think the same concern would be thrown upon Emily. It would just sort of be expected she could handle that. It may be partly that people realize that I work from home and it is hard to get a lot of articles done while trying to remind Everett that Summit isn't a horse or that Danika indeed can't fly. I sort of went into these five days with the idea that any work I can get done is gravy. I find it amusing that moms are expected to handle stuff like this all the time but dads are heroes when they have to do the exact same thing.
No matter what ends up happening, I'll be awesome. I have the greatest kids in the world. Sorry if you thought you did, but it wasn't true. Even if pee puddles or crying festivals sometimes get thrown into the mix, more often I find myself melting inside when they smile up at me or just win me over with the countless amusing things they do each day. So, five days where I get all that joy to myself, I can handle that. Or at least I say that now, since night number one isn't over yet.
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I am a writer, so I write. When I am not writing, I will eat candy, drink beer, and destroy small villages.
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