I am approaching 36 years on this planet. I’ve talked about wearing many hats before, depending on where I am and who I’m with. Lately, it seems that my existence, my very being, can be summed up in a single word.
Daddy. I am daddy. According to my wife, this is something I always am no matter the situation. At home with the girls? Obviously daddy. Scooping the cat’s litter box? Still daddy. Spending time with our friends? Apparently, still daddy. Sleeping on the couch? Definitely daddy.
I never thought I could simplify myself that easily. Sure, I can add words to it. Nerdy daddy, silly daddy, grumpy daddy, sleepy daddy, and basically anything that could also qualify me to hang out with Snow White.
The thing is, I’m kind of okay with it. I have tried to think of myself as something else but in my head I am daddy, non-stop. My wife teases me about it. I honestly wonder if I have just been daddy my whole life and actually having kids was a mere formality.
So what happens when my girls are all grown up? Do I just get advanced to grandpa? What if they don’t have kids? Am I destined to be an unneeded daddy to grown women who have their own lives to live?
I’ve talked to people and there seems to be no real answer. I like to take care of the people I love. My wife and two little girls are on the top of that list. So if that means I am daddy, than I shall be daddy with every fiber I am composed of. Onward to the bad puns!
Oh, wonderful sleep. How great it it? In the immortal words of Ralph Wiggum, “Yay, sleep! That’s where I’m a Viking!”
My kids do not realize how awesome naps and having a set bedtime are. I suppose when I was little I didn’t either. I mean, when you are a little kid, sleep must just seem like something that makes you miss out on exciting stuff. You just know that the grown-ups are doing something really great while you’re stuck in bed. They’re probably eating lots of ice cream and playing with flying squirrels.
I will admit to the ice cream. No such luck with the squirrels.
The truth is, my girls are the lucky ones. Most of the time daddy is at work when it’s bedtime. He’s definitely not doing anything fun. The most fun I’m typically having is on the nights off when my wife and I try (and fail) to catch up with the DVR.
When I do finally go to bed, it usually takes me a bit to fall asleep since my brain wants to keep rehashing the day. Phoebe has inherited the habit of not falling asleep right away, but that’s usually because she’s talking to her toys or singing for an hour or so. Zoe, like her mother, falls asleep pretty quickly. Then of course, we have the cat who sleeps most of the time anyway. Lousy jerk Pepper. Rubbing her constant napping in my face. I know she’s mocking me!
One day, Phoebe and Zoe will be grown up and start to wish they could get more sleep. On that days, I will chant at them like some crazed doomsayer. “I warned you! Now it’s too late!”
At which point I imagine I will be put in a home. Where I can nap. A lot. See? I have a plan.