Last week, my wife went to beautiful Boston for a four-day conference, and I stayed home with the darlings. If the thought of 96 uninterrupted hours of childcare makes you shudder, consider that I once did a whole week. A friend of mine did two weeks. Single parents do it every single blessed day — something that I cannot comprehend. I tip my hat to you.
Anyway, I had the bright idea of "live blogging" the weekend. That is to say, I was going to provide the nine people who actually read my blog with a play-by-play commentary of the weekend. I gave up by 2:30 on the first day. I found that when I finally did have ten minutes to myself, I wanted to spend them on the couch, mentally traveling to the south of France.
By the end of day two, however, I was feeling quite proud of myself.
First, we took Grace for a haircut. Then we went to the bookstore and the mall, marched up and down Main Street, hung out at the lake and topped things off with make-your-own-pizza night (if you haven't let a 2-year-old make his own pizza, you really should. Just tell yourself, "It's nothing I can't clean").
They both got baths and went to sleep without issue. So, I bragged a little about it on my blog. Perhaps I did have a bit of a big head, but I was surprised to see this comment:
"...you're just doing what you're SUPPOSED to be doing! This is why the moms roll their eyes at the dads — constantly."
Supposed to be doing? By day three, we had banged out seven outings! I know that as a dad, I do have a responsibility to actively parent my kids and be a vital part of their lives.
Perhaps I was simply rewarding myself for being "dad," but, I mean...I let a 2-year-old make pizza! From scratch! Surely that warrants a little fanfare.
Buy the time my wife returned, I had a nice collection of new photos and even convinced Grace that daddy's lullabies were acceptable. Maybe I am an eye-roll-worthy dad, but I don't care. I want a medal.