While running back and forth tugging children along a zip-line at a theme park this afternoon, I started wondering about my work colleagues - about those who do not have a family yet.
Once upon a time I was single - and could devote endless hours to the solitary pursuit of knowledge within my chosen discipline. I knew a lot back then. My life is now filled with all manner of roles - and I am the expected actor for all of them. Chief among the roles is that of husband to my wonderful other half, and father to three wonderful (if trying) young children.
While racing from room to room tidying up, or washing up the third sink full in a row (while the dishwasher and washing machine are also going), I wonder how far behind I am slowly slipping.
I wonder if life skills - those forged while shaping young lives - have added to my professional skillset, or if the time taken to acquire them has dectracted from that which I could have learned.
While travelling back from a client site with a colleague a couple of weeks ago I took a call from the children who I said good night to one at a time. My colleague remarked how great that must be, and how it made him think about starting a family one day. I smiled.
I didn’t remark that he might be able to get home and write a few emails or lose himself in the web - whereas I would be fighting to get three little girls into pyjamas, reading bedtime stories, washing up, tidying up, probably walking into town to buy something to eat, before walking back, cooking it, and having dinner with my worn out better half. “My” time would exist from about 10:30pm onwards - at which point all impetus to get anything done would have ebbed away.
It’s interesting though - in the midst of such lunacy, you find cracks you can exploit. Walking into town to buy groceries afford the opportunity to listen to podcasts - something I used to do while commuting, and miss greatly.
I used to take friends children to the playpark and privately pour scorn on other parents who sat on the benches and seemingly ignored their children. I now understand - I see the world through the eyes of a parent. The bench is a place of respite - a place to sit down for parents who have probably been up far earlier than you, and not had a chance to sit down since they scraped themselves out of bed to prepare not only for their own day, but the day of each of their children.
This post sounds incredibly negative, doesn’t it. Of course the truth is that the famous saying about children is absolutely true - the 95% of the time filled with hard work, stress and mayhem is MORE than paid back by the 5% the children return.
Our daughters laughter can reduce grown-ups to a tearful mess. I’ve seen it happen. Their love is fierce. It can be unsettling at times, but once you let your guard down - lower yourself to their level, it goes off the scale. Everything becomes worth it. Nothing costs too much.