My wife is at a “Hearts at Home” conference this weekend in Bloomington. It’s like a mini-vacation for her. She gets to hang out with grown-ups, not carry a diaper bag, talk about grown-up things instead of trying to arbitrate tinker-toy disputes, and eat in restaurants without having to cut up anyone’s food for them.
Meanwhile, I’m watching the three little urchins for a couple of days (right now it’s nap time). It’s been fun spending time with the kids, but it never ceases to amaze me how much time is spent preparing meals and cleaning up after them. I think if I had to stay home all day every day, I would accomplish little more than feeding my children and cleaning the kitchen. How my wife accomplishes anything else is a mystery to me.
As kind of a corollary to that, I don’t know why my wife’s hands aren’t chapped, cracked, and bleeding most of the time. After doing dishes all day and constantly having to wash up after wiping noses, changing diapers, and cleaning up poopy bottoms, my hands are raw.
After listening to my 5-year-old chatterbox all day, I also understand why my wife wants to call me at work frequently to have an adult conversation. It reminds me of Dave Barry’s contention that becoming a parent makes you stupider. He gave this example:
Albert Einstein Shortly Before The Birth Of His Son: “To know that what is impenetrable to us really exists, manifesting itself as the highest wisdom and the most radiant beauty, which our dull faculties can comprehend only in their most primitive forms — this knowledge, this feeling, is at the center of true religiousness.”
Albert Einstein Shortly After The Birth Of His Son: “Daddy’s gonna EAT THESE WIDDLE TOES!”
With a 5-year-old, you get peppered with questions that seem to come out of nowhere: “If you go to jail, do you have to stay there forever?” “Do bugs think I’m a giant?” “Can I poke you with this tinkertoy?” After you answer a couple hundred of those questions, you long to hear a grown-up question, like “you wanna beer?”
Well, I never doubted for a second that my wife was superwoman, but my belief has been reinforced once again. I think I’ll take her out to dinner more often.
And, I hear footsteps… I fear nap time is over….
Thank goodness the grandparents have taken pity on me and offered to have the clan over for supper last night and tonight. One less meal to prepare.
My wife went to the same conference and I played Mr. Mom, as well.
The downside: It’s monday morning and I’m exhausted.
The upside: I had a great time with my kids, I appreciate my wife more than ever, and she came back blown away (and refreshed!) by everything she learned.
My wife was there as well… Funny thing is, she came back far from refreshed. She met up with some old college friends and rumor has it they were up past 5 AM Fri/Sat in their hotel room chatting!
When my oldest daughter (now nine) was three years old, she talked and asked questions NON STOP. My husband, an attorney, didn’t understand why I was so hypersensitive to any question, even the standard, “How was your day?” when he arrived home. I eventually told him that Lydia had cross examined, deposed, and grilled me all day, every day. He finally understood.
I used to take Lydia to Steak and Shake every afternoon and order her a large chocolate milkshake just to get a break from her constant-albeit adorable- chatter and questions. It was glorious. The worst part of the day was when the straw hit the bottom of the cup and I’d hear that sucking air sound that informed me… “Break Over Mommy!”
This part of parenthood gets SO much better after the kid learns how to read, trust me. I had Lydia reading at three, not because I wanted a genius, but because I needed a BREAK!!!
Now that she is nine and obessed with her hair, I kind of wish she’d talk to me more. Sigh. You just can’t win.
Good luck C.J., and bless you for realizing and appreciating what your wife does and how a stay-at-home mom can work non-stop and yet seem to get so little done. Including taking a shower.