Tres

"Waaahhhhhh!"

My first thought, as I hear the human alarm clock that is my 3 month old, is "Where's my wife?"

And then the slow realization begins to overtake me. My heart begins pounding, my head sweating. There is no backup. This is a solo operation now.

My wife has gone back to work.

This summer, we were blessed with our third daughter, A. She has been a fantastic baby. It's as if Superman (that's who I assume sent her) made her super happy and super chill so that we would love having three kids. "Hey Mom! Hey Dad! I don't cry a lot; I smile a lot; you made a great decision!"

We were also very fortunate that Carrie was able to take an extended maternity leave. She was off all summer, returning to work after Labor Day. It was like she was a teacher, but without all the smoking, drinking, and threats.

Our summer was great. We hit up museums; went to the zoo; and all the other typical summer activities. We were able to run errands with minimal hassle. I was able to take a few of the day gigs I normally pass up. After all, I have a live in babysitter, who also happens to be quite the looker.

It was our best summer yet. We really loved being home together.

However, all good things stop. (or something like that)

I totally forgot what it was like to deal with a newborn exclusively. When we were both home, we can share in the diapering, playing, changing. (Carrie was in charge of the nursing; my nipples were too sensitive.) So I had to deal with all of this myself.

And not just A. But two other kids under the age of 4, both of whom, demand more attention every day. L & E were both sad to see their mom go. But I've got to say they've both been a big help. We always assumed L would be a great help, being of the first born persuasion. But E surprised us, but only a little. We thought she'd have a harder time with A. She was our baby before, but now she was the big sister. And she took it on with gusto. She's been as helpful as L ever was. With the two of them entertaining Ava in the bouncy seat, home maintenance has become easier.

And I miss Carrie. It's odd, that I would enjoy having my wife around to help with the kids, share in the kids experiences, and laugh with. (SARCASM) But I do. And I know she misses all of us, too. Her tearful calls from her cubicle tell us so. But she's a champ. And she does a great job supporting us. And by us, I mean Earth.

Three kids have me flustered, but happier than ever. I have to relearn how to get L prepped, and ready to go to preschool; how to keep E entertained and engaged; and how to feed/clean/clothe A. Having three kids isn't that much different than two, but enough to make me start over from scratch with routine. It's almost like learning how to walk again.

Actually, it's more like learning how to run again.

Time, Revisited

I was asked to follow up on my earlier post where I tried to change my schedule back to what it used to be like, in an attempt to get some semblance of control back in my life. If you hadn't read that post (for shame!), I talked about how my work time used to be late at night, and how that changed when Brady was born. My goal was to get back to becoming that night owl, so that I could still get my work done, yet still spend quality time with the girls.

The result? I crashed and burned.

Sadly, I'm not a young person anymore (as my upcoming 36th birthday keeps reminding me). I thought I could get by on minimum sleep (give or take an afternoon nap to catch up). But the fact is, I was still dead tired by the end of the evening. It also didn't help that Stacey now had to get up at 6am to get ready and teach her 7:30am class. So, I didn't have the option of sleeping in like I had.

So, I tried a different tactic, and got up with Stacey instead at 6am.

The result? A surprising success!

Now, do I get much art work done in that hour or two before Brady wakes up? Nope. But, it has allowed me to take care of those items that usually keep me distracted during the course of the day, but in the real world and on the Internet. It also has given me the opportunity to use the treadmill that I've been seriously neglecting.

Hell, I even managed to get this article up on time, for once!

In essence, I get to have some small bit of control back in my life. Or at least, it helps me to get on top of things.

In the few weeks I've been doing this change in my schedule, more house work has been completed, I fulfilled a few more project commitments, so I can get back to work on projects I've been neglecting, and I've dropped about ten pounds so far. Plus, I get to do all this, and spend quality time with the girls.

I'll take that as a step forward. I still have a ways to go in many aspects, but progress has been made.

And all it took was a small shift in strategy.

Little Miss Perfect

This was something interesting that popped up recently. My daughter has said wants to be absolutely, positively, perfectly perfect.

I guess it's not a recent occurrence. Rather, she finally admitted it to us last night. But we did notice that she was trying very hard to correct any and all mistakes she made. Case in point, she said something that I'd say was fairly rude. So, I called her on it. Her response was to say either one of her imaginary friends really said it, or she tried re-wording it into something else, when that wasn't what she said at all.

So, both Stacey and I called her out on that as well. That's when she told us that she just wanted to be a perfect daughter.

What?!

We were both pretty confused by this revelation. So, we talked to her about it. Specifically, that it's impossible to be perfect. It can't be done, and that it would drive you crazy to even try to become perfect. Everyone makes mistakes, we told her. It's normal. More specifically, we said it's okay to make mistakes.

"But you don't make any mistakes."

"Well, that's not true," I told her. "Mommy and I make lots of mistakes. It's a part of growing up. That's how you learn. Besides, how many times did you see me lose to Galactus in Marvel vs. Capcom 3?"

"Lots."

"See? I didn't get it right the first time."

In any case, we told her that she is a perfect daughter for us. But, that doesn't mean that she can try to pretend her mistakes never happened, or that she can pawn those mistakes off on others (real or imaginary). It's okay to be wrong; that's how we are supposed to learn.

Now whether she believe this is another story. So, I have a feeling this will be revisited again.

The Sex Talk

I think it's time. It's nothing my son is saying or doing to show his curiosity, he really, really doesn't appear to be curious at all, it's just that he's in 5th grade now and I'm hearing that that's when public schools tend to start so I'm trying to gather the courage.

When I was about 14 my mother threw a book on my bed, Preparing for Adolescence, and then ran. At the time I didn't know what she was thinking, at 14 I still wasn't a reader. Expecting me to read a book was about as preposterous as, well, as my mom giving me the sex talk. Or whatever it was she did.

It mostly stayed closed on the bed. I stared at it and listened to Ozzy through my head phones. This thing was like two hundred pages.

About two hours later she asked if I'd read it. I said "yes." we didn't look at each other. "Do you have any questions?" I said "no," when I was pretty much already out of the room. That was it, the most uncomfortable moment of my life.

So now I get the nervousness. Didn't think I would be. But I so very AM. I have to say the words erection and vagina to my 10 year old son that still thinks that you have to be in love and married to be pregnant.

Not going to be lame though, I've already started prepping. Reading about how to present it. How to (make an effort to) have him keep it to himself and not share the info with his 8 year old sister.

Not going to run the gammit just yet with STD talk and wet dreams. I think I'll do this in installments. Right now I'm going to stick with how babies come to be, and that love and marriage have nothing to do with it. Should, but don't.

Waiting for the right time. Fishing trip? Keep him home from school one day? He's going to remember this for the rest of his life. Go get ice cream? Use the banana split as an ice breaker?

He's going to know the truth about babies before he knows the truth about Santa.

Oh God, I think I'm going to be sick.