“Where’d Daddy go?”
These are questions my two-year-old son asks at least once an hour. He and his four-year-old sister have a Mommy and Daddy Radar. It beeps urgently when they realize they don’t know exactly where Mommy and Daddy are. If you have children, you know what I’m talking about. And you definitely know what I’m talking about if this scenario sounds familiar: It’s 4:30 in the afternoon, during the witching hours of the day. You’re more than ready for a break, but really, your work has just begun. There’s dinner to cook, dishes to wash, and kids to bathe and put to bed and try your best to keep in bed until they finally, finally succumb to sleep. And then you have a few more miles to go in the form of piles of laundry or work you didn’t quite wrap up at the office, or maybe a phone call to return that you’ve been dreading all day. Not to mention that workout you had to put off all day/week. No, if you’re a mom or dad, 4:30 isn’t even close to quitting time.
Around 4:30 is when I desperately think, “I just need five minutes alone.” So I creep to the bathroom. And I’m in there about ten, maybe twenty seconds before I hear “Where’d Mommy go? Mommy!!”
I’m in here. Hiding.
4:30 is also about when my children get desperate for me to read books to them. “I wan’ read a boooook!” my always enthusiastic son proclaims, as he lugs a book beyond his age level to me when I walk into his room to see, again, why he’s yelling for me. Quiet, dancing Ella then says, “I want to read, too,” and I’m left with no choice, because how can I put silly things like sustenance and cleanliness ahead of the love of reading I and my children share? So we smush together on the couch and open up a book and let the rice boil over while we read about brave knights or dancing princesses. And I struggle to explain why the rice is dry again, but my husband doesn’t even ask why, because he knows. He knows how our children hit me at my weak spot and get me to hold to hold them in my lap when I think I need to be doing other things. He knows that frustration between wanting to say “yes” but always feeling guilty about whatever it is you said “no” to. He and I both struggle to figure out our “yes’s” and our “no’s”. Maybe you do to.
My kids aren’t trying to frustrate me, but I get weary of how unsettled they become when I’m focusing on something other than them. I can’t get mad at them (okay, I can, but I shouldn’t) because the truth is they want me to be present with them because they’re crazy about me. Me. The woman wearing the sweat pants that likely have snot (theirs) on them. The woman who really should’ve washed her hair this morning and who feels a little boring around other adults and who can’t remember to change the oven from “broil” to “bake” and serves her family crunchy cookies. The woman who forgets at least one thing on her grocery list every stinkin’ shopping trip. The woman who sometimes (often) loses her cool and speaks in harsh tones when she’s upset and clearly never, ever has it all together. That’s the woman they’re crazy about.
That’s why they act like a seventh grader with crush on someone. Remember those days? (Don’t pretend you weren’t like that!) You craved that person’s attention. You were envious of the people your crush talked to when he or she wasn’t with you. You performed crazy, nonsensical antics to get his/her attention. You thought about where they were when they were not around (yes, you did). You hoped the person would see past your imperfections and fall completely in love with everything about you that is good and unique and found nowhere else on earth but in you. Really, don’t we all still want that from the people we love? Isn’t that what our kids want from us? Here we are with our kids constantly wanting our attention, acting out when we’re trying to talk on the phone, and driving us crazy when all we want to do is get the dishes washed or the bills paid…and all they want is to simply be with us. Whether we’re having a bad hair/face/work/everything day or not. Yes, it’s true. Your kids have a huge crush on you.
And in all the books, movies, love songs, and all other forms of human expression, what’s sadder than unrequited love?
But of course, we all love our kids, more deeply than we can say. Our children’s love is not unrequited. I know there are parents out there who aren’t very loving, but I personally don’t know any. The parents I know are too crazy about their children to put it into words. But no matter how much I love my children, I’m going to get frustrated. I’m going to be tired of being needed. I may mess up and make them feel like I don’t appreciate their desire to be with me. But it helps to remember why they’re constantly seeking me out. It helps to remember it’s because they love me and they know I love and care for their every need. And though I tell my kids “I love you,” if I want them to believe me, I need to meet their love at the only place they know how to give and receive it–in spending time together. I need to gather them in my arms and laugh at their silly jokes. I need to read books and go with them on their flights of imagination. I need to make sure they know I love every single thing about them: the questions my four-year-old daughter asks, the exuberance my toddler son maintains every single day, the colors in their eyes and hair and skin, the absolute freedom they feel to snuggle with me no matter what. There are no barriers between us now, and I need to realize it’s not always going to be that way. Someday, I’m going to call out, “Hey, let’s read this book!” and I’ll get a groan for a response, or no response at all. But for now, reading a book together is exactly the excuse they’re looking for to be near me. So I’m going to revel in the crush they have on me and I on them. There will always be days when I feel like reading by myself instead of gathering them up in my arms and reading Farmer John’s Tractor for the eighteenth time. Still, I hope to remember how much my arms and my attention mean to them, and I’ll try not to hide from them. At least not until after bedtime.
Communicating unconditional love through the sacrifice of time is my goal. Yes, I’m setting myself up for failure. But trying is still accomplishing goals as long as you’re still trying the next day. It just may mean those goals will take a lifetime.
God bless all of you on this Father’s Day. I hope you get the chance to spend lots of time with your loved ones and maybe even a little time to yourself. And be sure to tell the children in your life that yes, you will read them that book. =)