Dan and Em's Blog

11 years ago today, Dan & I got married.  It really does not feel like it’s been that long, in that I don’t feel like the time Dan & I have been married encompasses nearly 1/3 of my life so far.  If I look at what we’ve done in that time, though, I guess it does seem like 11 years.

Many things have changed in that time.  Dan & I have each changed (I think, mostly, for the better and more mature), our jobs have changed (at least twice, each), our continent of residence has changed and we’ve had two children (not at all in that order).  When we got married, we didn’t even know if we wanted to have kids — neither of us could imagine a time where we would feel like we were grown up, responsible enough or “ready” to have kids.  We didn’t think there would ever be a time where we’d want to put our needs, desires and ambitions on the back burner for the sake of being the kind of parents we wanted to be if we ever had kids.

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In the morning, I usually wake up to hugs and “Good morning, Mommy — how was your sleep?” from a groggy eyed Benjamin, or to cooing and a snuggle from Liam.  As the day goes on, I feed my boys, I change diapers, I enforce nap time.  I build roads from blocks for cars to drive on and I play ball in my living room.  I try to juggle playing, being in charge, taking care of errands and trying to keep the house at least a little clean (Benjamin helps — really).  I run races, put puzzles together, play games on the computer, answer lots of questions, share ice cream and wash sticky faces and fingers.  I try to get my kids out so that we can see some of this fantastic city (because I know that all too soon this opportunity will have passed).  I give baths, I cuddle, I read stories.  The other day, I filled a wading pool using a 32 ounce plastic cup and countless trips back and forth from my kitchen to the terrace.  Tonight, Benjamin fell asleep during story time — I looked over, halfway through our second book, and he was out.

This is the best job ever.

It is hard, the hours are endless, I am often exhausted and sometimes pushed past the limits of my strength (mental, physical and emotional), there are no sick days and a break is really hard to come by.  But this is exactly the job I want to have.  I am so grateful that I get to spend this time with my wonderful kids.  I complain about it sometimes, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.  If I had millions of dollars in the bank, this is exactly what I’d do (although I’d hire someone to make sure the house stays clean).  What a great feeling:  I get to wake up every morning and do exactly what I would do if money were no object.  I love it.

Dads are important — and not just for the evident biological purpose – they teach you things you won’t learn from anyone else.  Dads teach you how to whistle, how to tie your shoes, how to ride your bike (with and without training wheels), how to camp, build a kite, use a hammer, pack a car, read a map, float on your back in the pool, pick a perfect Halloween pumpkin or Christmas tree (and how to tie the latter to your car), change your oil, change a tire, drive, make barbecue, build a fire, build a paper airplane, sail (kind of), throw a frisbee, spin a yo-yo, shoot a bow and arrow, debate philosophy or politics, blow a bubble with gum, spell “encyclopedia”, sing the “rubber ducky song”, appreciate A. A. Milne, Shel Silverstein, Isaac Asimov and Star Trek, and dozens of other things I’m not thinking of at the moment.

Or maybe that’s just my Dad.

Thanks, Dad.  I love you.

What a day.  Woke up this morning to discover that Liam had apparently scratched his eye — his left eye was red and had a semi-visible scratch on it — on the eye ball.  (And yes, this is a remarkably similar injury, down to being in the same eye, as my horse was discovered to have yesterday.)

So, we proceeded (as parents do) to discuss taking him to the doctor, versus seeing if he improved on his own, and the logistics of each plan.  Dan went to work, and called from the office to talk to our new pediatrician, who, it turns out, doesn’t have office hours on Thursdays, so he called her cell and left a message.  Hours passed, and I stared at his eye all morning (he seemed to really enjoy all the “face” time with mommy) and tried to figure out whether I should leave him alone, take him to the emergency room or call another doctor.

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