Add that to my list of naïve pre-child assumptions that were
way off the mark.
In reality, keeping our two toddlers occupied and out of
trouble has proven to be the most challenging portion my parenting journey.
With my wife working part time, I often find myself looking
after the boys on my own. After a long day at the office, it’s sometimes tough
to muster the energy to keep up with two moody toddlers, both of who boast
unbelievably short attention spans.
Usually I will take the boys to a park to burn off some
energy, but when I’m feeling weary, the temptation is to chill out on the couch
for a while and let them entertain themselves with their toys.
As every parent knows, a bored child is a dangerous child.
If I’m lucky, I’ll get five minutes of peace before the first interruption,
which usually comes in the form of a sibling slap-fight or a flying knee to my
groin.
If I don’t act quickly, the whining will inevitably follow.
“Daddy, I want a snack!”
“Rylan is pointing at me!”
“Daddy help! I got pee in my pants!”
Back when we were a one-kid household, I learned about the
dangers of child boredom the hard way when our then two-year-old emptied a
massive bottle of chocolate syrup onto himself, the dog and the living room
carpet.
As the boys get older, larger and more intelligent, I must
keep devising new and creative ways to keep them entertained. Some days we
build forts with couch cushions, play ball hockey on the kitchen floor or blast
loud music while inventing hilarious new dance moves.
While home with the boys earlier this week, I dug through
the garage to find the splash pool, filled it with lukewarm water and bath toys
then turned them loose while I relaxed in a deck chair. They were thrilled and
I sipped an ice-cold Dr. Pepper while silently congratulating myself on being
such a cool and clever dad.
The pool party was going splendidly until I looked up and realized
that Rylan, the one-year-old, was collecting bits of dog crap from around the
yard and dropping them into the pool. With the wading pool now a disgusting
biohazard, I whisked both boys up to the bathtub for a thorough decontamination.
After that, I made them sandwiches for supper, cut up some
watermelon for dessert, threw some laundry in, broke up a fight over the
watermelon, washed them up again, and put them in their pyjamas.
Now completely out of gas, I collapsed on the couch with my
iPad while the boys bickered noisily over a toy that probably came from a Happy
Meal.
I looked at the clock and winced when I saw there were still
two hours to go until bedtime. I almost started to feel a little sorry myself, until
I remembered that my wife does this routine almost every day.
Parenting is a high-demand job that sometimes pushes your
patience to the limit – but it’s not without perks. As I finished reading bedtime
stories, both boys rewarded me with big goodnight hugs and assurances that they
loved me more than dinosaurs or ice cream.
Despite the day’s chaos and calamity, as I tiptoed from
their rooms that evening, I couldn’t help but smile.
What an awesome day.
Leo Paré is a former
Advocate editor. Email him at newsdeadline@gmail.com or follow him on Twitter at
twitter.com/LeoPare
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