The Children, so fresh from God, have control of the Universe.

Today I woke up at 5am. I couldn't get back to sleep. I was hungover.  I didn't get in bed until 2am and, with the emotional strength of a Dr. Phil patient, lay in bed and thought of horrific scenarios. One was being in the car with the boys. A semi truck pulls ahead of everybody and blocks the lanes. I'm trapped in the middle lane with cars all around me when from the truck guys with guns start unloading on the trapped traffic. I ran the scene over and over trying to figure out how I could keep the boys safe while subduing one of the gunmen and shooting the others. After the ordeal was over I refused to speak to the media. "I'm no hero," I'd say to one cameraman before walking away.

Right as I was drifting back to sleep, Allie cat meowed. When Allie meows it isn't a pleasant feline chime. It's a noise that makes me hate cats. It's an indignant shout so shrill they could use it to save people from fires. This morning she was yelling at me to get her out of Quin's room. I was fast to assist her because I didn't want Quin to wake up. Sure enough, Quin was up and ready for breakfast.

Never get confident that you will get to take a nap. Forgo all excitement and expectations thereof. Your life will be long, tired and poor, and if you ever think otherwise, your child will reach his tiny hand into the universe and smack your carefully balanced mobile of life.

I hadn't slept but three hours. Sarah was on low because of a recurring head cold and who knows what else our little Magellans of malaria bring home from daycare. Quin and I were just back from a trip to the Cherry Creek Mall, where the denizens are so wealthy and pretty it wears you out thinking of all you should be but aren't, and how big your wife's fake boobs could be. After a big lunch and a streak of perfect behavior from the boys, we retired them to their rooms. Sarah didn't even say anything, she only looked like she was thinking something about how perfect it was that everyone was asleep. Smack goes the mobile.

I did my requisite sans-children suggestions, and Sarah reminded me how tired I was and that I should sleep instead. I was weary enough to take her up on it. With college football muted but still displaying it's comforting beauty, I stretched out on the couch. If I were any less tired I might have wondered if the beautiful Cherry Creek Mall shoppers would nap on a couch, or if that's too Dagwood for their New Yorker single pane. And then I might have forsaken a nap to go for a run at the park. Not today. I was drifting on a cloud within moments of touching down.

In a few minutes Sarah would report she was in her wistful dreamy stage too.

I would get to talk to Sarah so soon because we'd both hear Quin cry out for us. Jumping up, disoriented but determined, we scampered to the source. The source, it turns out, was covered in his own vomit. We slogged through the cleanup, mostly motivated by the thought of getting back to bed.

That would not happen. Horking apparently works like caffeine on a kid. I vomit and I lie on the floor waiting for Jesus to take me. Quin perks up and gets on his tricycle. And then Otto, who was a headbutting madman who couldn't wait to be put in his crib, starting talking and singing

NOOOO! There would be no nap. But there could at least be that sordid compromise that parents call "quiet time". There would be none of that either. Just to demonstrate how children are but our marionette masters, I'll give you a quick rundown of adult expectations and kid results.

Sometime after I found Otto drinking delicate spoonfuls of Paco's water, I was able to sit back down on the couch, and think, "Well this is nice." Otto joined me with a bowl of pomegranate seeds he'd thieved from the kitchen. At first I was proud of his agility and balance. Smack goes the mobile. At that very moment he tripped over a tent pole (you know you have children when there's a tent set up in your living room, for two weeks) and shot the sticky little berries all over the carpet. The boys were kind enough to help their angry father pick them up, and once the bowl was full again, I relaxed and turned back to the TV.  Otto took the opportunity to dump the bowl over his head. Children are cute for a reason.

So we got that cleaned up, and we did some general congratulating on surviving the day. Sarah commented on how tired I must be, and I told her I'm going straight to bed. Bam. Mobile Mayhem. The smoke alarms go off. And these things are loud and you can't stop them. They are hard-wired beyond even the breakers. The first time they went off on one peaceful early morn, I ran outside and turned off the whole house. They kept going because, of course, they have their batteries.  And for some reason they don't just chirp, they go all-out Allie on us. 

We don't know why they went off, but Quin suggested the batteries.  Soon I was at the store and ready to curl up in their winter coat section.

Comments

[earthling]

Must read before heading to the bars.