9-11-08

Children are ungrateful but we unconditionally love them anyway

What an ordeal. They don’t even know how much work goes into making it happen and they don’t even say thank you.
My wife and I just finished doing a very small birthday party for my daughter who just reached the milestone birthday of one year old. We worked all day to clean the house, make a cake, cut the grass and make sure that everything was in some sort of order in the house. Baby Girl didn’t once ask if she could lend a hand. All she did was fuss and cry for food.
We are not the best at being parents. No one gave us any instruction on how to do this. We both went from living high on the hog in Boston to being two adults held hostage in our own home in North Carolina. How did THAT happen. I remember the day that Leigh and I said that we were ready for a child. Where was the guy with the whistle and yellow flag on that day!
I can hear the general public right now. “Quit ‘yer ... complaining”.
I do complain and anyone that knows me will agree. However, I wouldn’t change a thing. I love my kids and I find myself smiling when I look at their pictures at my desk here at work and not just because they are at day care instead of under my feet.
This birthday party for Nash was just to be the grandparents and family that live close by. Really this would be a simple party to pull off. I could have forgone the grass cutting because I don’t have to impress family, but I did it anyway with the help of my mother and father-in-law.
A trip to the dump in the morning was needed and a run to the gas station was next in order to get the yard looking half-way decent. Leigh was busy making a cake and keeping Ethan and Nash busy at the same time. I had the easy job, although when I walked back in and saw everyone with chocolate around their mouths, I wasn’t sure that I got left out of something fun. We got the bathrooms cleaned, the carpet vacuumed and tried to find enough chairs for all the guests to sit on.
The children were running around crazy pulling everything out that we just put up and I could feel a few more gray hairs popping through my scalp every other minute. Two hours to go and there were more toys out than when we started. Calgon, take me away!
At two-o’clock everyone started to arrive. Somehow everything was at a semi-point of completion. Everyone visited for about an hour and watched the kids jump on the sofa in between their regular trips to the ever intriguing stairs.
We have a big staircase that kids just seem to want to look at. Watching them reminds me of when I lived in Arizona and went to the Grand Canyon. I would walk as close to the edge as I could and back off right before I felt the urge to lose my breakfast. Maybe that is what the kids are doing.
At about three, the cake was pulled out and everyone gathered around the table to take pictures of the one year old that was shoving cake and ice cream into her face like it was going out of style. Nash was having a blast and the other kids thought it was great to see her make such a mess and cover the floor in everything that didn’t make it into her mouth.
Presents were handed out after the kids were cleaned up. I forgot how much kids love opening presents, especially when it isn’t their birthday. There was tissue paper flying and cards getting tossed behind the kids left and right. Who cares about the cards.
Leigh somehow accounted for all of the presents and figured out who gave what so that thank you cards could be sent out later. Women are great at that. If it was up to me, I would just open a window and yell out “Thank you” and hope you were listening.
The temperature in the house had risen by four degrees. I had to take a seat. I was sitting in my favorite chair and semi-hiding from further clean up duties as I watched the children play with the boxes that the toys came in and my daughter chew on tissue paper. Have you noticed how quick that stuff changes the color of a kids mouth?!
Everyone was having conversations and I just watched the family visit and have fun. The kids were having fun, the parents were having fun and I quickly remembered what the ordeal was all about.
Bryan Pinkey can be reached at bpinkey@nccox.com.