So it has been a while since I posted here. This is partly guilt, I still have TickTock’s underwear in a plastic bag in my house, and I don’t want to draw attention to myself. It’s also partly guilt because I’m a terrible blog partner: I haven’t read anything parent related in the last week or so. And of course, there’s the constant, terminal guilt that comes from being the worst father in the world.
I’ll back that last one up, but it’s going to take a minute.
I am a professional student, so my competition is almost exclusively single people, or people from cultures where they aren’t expected to do dishes, ever. These single people have a lot of time to do things like learn new computer languages and read new research and write research papers and hack, and this means that I pretty much never sleep. My twitter stream operates about 18-20 hours a day, from the first “Oh, God, I’m awake” to the last “Go to sleep, you idiot.” And for a lot of that time I’m sitting in front of the computer, trying to learn difficult things.
So when I wake up at 7AM, I am in a bad, bad mood. Every day. Even the days when I’m watching the kids.
The second problem I have is that my daughter, the Dark Phoenix, has the worst cry in the entire world. It melts the brain. It hurts the ears. It causes a sense of panic and dread to overcome you. And lately, it’s been constant. She’s teething, which is part of the problem… but she also just wants to be held, she’s in that phase, and I can’t hold her all day.
This has not been a good week to be my son. I’m pretty much convinced that the damage I’m doing now, by being a barely contained cauldron of rage, panic, exhaustion, and dread, is permanent, awful, catastrophic, and will doom both of my children to a lifetime of pizza delivery and key swapping parties.
The Highlander has started whining, as well. He wasn’t a whiner, but suddenly, he is. He whines for things instead of asking, even though he doesn’t get them unless he asks nicely. Every single parent in the world has encountered this phenomena, and like all of them, I am baffled and confused by this insistence on whining over talking.
I’d do some reading to figure out what is going on, but I’m too damn busy. I have other things to look up.
So I am, essentially, bereft of hope at this moment, doomed to keep screwing up until I manage to create enough breathing space for basic sanity.
Perhaps this is the reason for church. Because you have to share these burdens with somebody, and participate in a culture that gives you some assurance that you aren’t actually the worse parent in the world, that as long as you imbue them with myth “a”, everything is going to be alright.