Yesterday was a day I would like to forget. I had a wonderful but long week at work including two days of travel. I could not wait to get home, and as usual traffic was keeping me from where I needed to be. I fought traffic for 2 1/2 hours to travel 65 miles in great anticipation of seeing the family, drink a few beers and watch some Red Sox pre-season play with my seven year old son.
I walk in the door, the road rage drains from my body as I fall to the floor to let them jump all over me. Three wonderful kids scream around the corner and attack me at full speed. The sensation of children climbing on me and laughing as their mother smiles approvingly in the background is something I will long for in a few short years. I pay particular attention to the beaming smile of a gorgeous toddler who I haven’t seen in three days because I got home after her bedtime. She still thinks I am the best and I wouldn’t change that for the world. Eventually the horseplay stops and they move on to other things. But wait, where is my oldest daughter?
I called for her and received no response. I searched her out and worked way too hard for a greeting.
She appears a little moody tonight but hey, she's in training right? I figure that eventually she'll come around. She doesn’t.
8:00 PM arrives and I start the arduous process of bedtime. The baby is finally down, the seven year old declines the baseball game because he is tired and the little guy is already asleep on the sofa. Just me and my daughter who is still in a mood.I tell her it is time to turn off Nickelodeon and go to bed. I was abrubtly informed that I can’t tell her what to do anymore. Why, I inquire. Because you're never home!, she screams.
Ouch! will someone please remove the knife from my chest! And please call Harry Chapin and tell him to stop playing Cat's in the cradle in my @#$%&* head!!!!
Here is the point of this blog. Part of being a responsible parent is maintaining the delicate balancing act between family and work. Work is a necessity and we don't do it because we want to but because we have to. Otherwise it would be called SEX. But try to explain that to a eight year old whose friends are all rich and their daddies either telecommute or work 8 hour work days. Try to explain that you made different choices in your life, like not inheriting a family business, and are doing the very best for them. It is a conversation you cannot and should not have with a child who only wants your love and attention.
I make a very good living, better than many but I have to work very hard and very long at it to earn enough to provide the house, the schools, the summer camps and the Disney trip that I am surprising them with in ten days. But she does not see this, she only sees a father who is never home. Of course she doesn’t think I would rather work than share her childhood with her, does she?
Of course I am not unique in this angst. As I said it is a burden we all bear. I never resented my father when I was younger for working every holiday because someone's oil burner went cold and I appreciate and understand it now. But the question begs to be asked, will they appreciate me for it as well? It is said that you should like your job and love your family. But where is it written that sometimes you are married to both?
And as he hung up the phone it occured to me, my boy was just like me...
my boy was just like me.
Cat's in the cradle,
Harry Chapin