Life Lessons

I’ve run 9 marathons.  I biked from Seattle to Portland in less than 24 hours.  I’ve pulled all-nighters to cram for exams.  And, I once worked for 50 hours straight without sleeping during my summer job as a caterer.

But, I’ve never before been as tired as I am every day of my life as a father.  In fact, every time I think I can’t ever feel more exhausted, a new day arrives, and I wind up setting a new personal record in the tired department.

I used to wonder why it was that middle-aged people look worn out and beaten down, and now I know.  It’s not because they’re out of shape.  Some of them are, true, but some, like me, are not.  We work out regularly.  But, that doesn’t help.  It doesn’t matter, because caring for a toddler is a never-ending task.  Children don’t understand “wait a sec” or “give me 5 minutes” or “mommy/daddy needs to take a break.” When you add in the fact that my day starts at 6:30 am and ends at 2:00 am when I finally force myself to stop writing and looking at video and turn off my computer, it’s no wonder that I’m completely wrung out.

I feel every one of my years.  My gray hairs have been multiplying, almost the way you see gray hairs multiply on the President’s head from the day he takes office.  And, parts of me are breaking down with regularity.  Just this year, I’ve had back spasms, plantar fasciitis, pink eye, and a sinus cold that won’t go away.

When we embarked upon this parenting voyage, I was warned by friends with kids. They said, I’d be tired all the time.  I didn’t believe them.  And, actually, they weren’t quite telling the truth.  I’m only tired when I’m awake.  When I’m asleep, I’m fine.

Only problem is I never get to sleep.  Parents never get to sleep.  We don’t get naps, and we definitely don’t get to sleep in.  And, no one told me that last part.  No one said, I’d never again enjoy the deliciousness of 12 hours of continuous sleep.  They just said, that I’d be “tired.”

“Tired” was a euphemism.  It was candy-coating the situation.  Being a parent means being so tired you start forgetting stuff, like what you just said, or where you put the tv remote even though it’s in your hand.  Tired means not brushing your teeth some nights because you don’t think you have the strength to lift your arm up to your mouth.

“Tired” means getting to the point where you’d gladly give up you life’s dreams and ambitions if it meant you could spend the rest of your days lying in a hammock on a beach with a cool breeze and a palm tree providing just enough shade so that you could spend 12 hours a day sleeping.

The “tired” I feel now has given me a whole new appreciation for my parents and every parent who has ever come before me.

That’s “tired” and that’s how I feel.

Still, I wouldn’t give up being a parent for anything.  It’s awesome, even if I feel like I’m living on a planet with extra gravity and that if you gave me a caffeine IV drip it still wouldn’t be enough.

I just hope that one day, our son, Ivan, can recognize that his dear old dad wasn’t always a tired-out old clown.

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