harrychrisWhy didn’t those of you with multiple spawn warn me that having two kids was four times as much work as having one kid?* I might have taken action – a vow of abstinence after Boy Z was born or something.

My Spring Break thus far has been a battle. A battle with Not Max over sleep. A battle with Boy Z over appropriate and inappropriate targets for hurled objects. A battle with Dr. O’C to keep from biting off each other’s head. I’m pretty sure I’m losing most of these battles right now.

Not Max and I continue circling one another like the wary combatants we are. He’s still not sure about me and I’m still not sure about him. Every now and again we get close to a breakthrough – I feel my heart melting a bit, a little half smile crosses his face. Then he starts screaming at me again.

But I’m not that easily deterred. We’ll get there.

One of the battles I may have won was over Boy Z’s sleeping arrangements. One mission for the break was to get Boy Z out of his cot (crib) and into his bed. On Monday, I decided to force the issue. I disassembled his cot and put it into the garage. I had him ‘help’ and we talked it over while we took it apart. All good. That night, we went through the bedtime routine and he went into the bed willingly for the first time since we bought the damn thing a month ago.

zachharry1I shut the door, held my breath and waited.

Silence.

Feeling a bit chuffed, I headed downstairs to brag and watch an episode of The Wire with Dr. O’C. But 20 minutes later, I heard the sound of a doorknob rattling and a soft, but urgent, ‘Bubba?’

I went in to him and it was clear he had been crying, his face wet and eyes swollen. I sat down with him on the bed.

“What’s the matter, Boy Z, are you scared?”

“Scad. Yeah.”

“Why? What’s scary?”

But that question is far beyond the scope of a two year old. Lots of things are scary, that’s the nature of childhood. Life is big and loud and full of surprises – many of them unpleasant. But Boy Z is such a burly little tough guy that I don’t think of him ever being scared. He’s shy around people, to be sure, but when faced with most of life’s challenges he marches right up to them and delivers a cricket bat to their skull.

zachharry2Sometimes life sends a dragon your way that isn’t slain so easily. Whatever it was about that bed was too much for Boy Z. He had tried. He stayed up there, crying silently for twenty minutes before he leapt from the bed and sought help.

I did  what I could – sang a song, turned on a light for him, brought him every stuffed animal he owns and a couple of diggers.

As I walked out of the room, I turned back and that image – my very small boy in a very big bed, eyes wide and darting, with tears drying on his cheeks – well, it cracked my heart a little. But I turned, shut the door and exhaled*. Because that’s what I had to do.

At that moment, it seemed to me that parenting is sometimes just a string of tiny heartbreaks.

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zachharry3*Actually, I’m curious whether it is a linear or exponential relationship. In other words, where n=the number of kids, would the increased difficulty be (n-1)x4 or 4(n-1)? Coalminer’s Grandaughter, Formerly Fun, Reinventing Dad – any insight?

**That, of course, wasn’t the end of it. He made it through the night, but only with Dr. O’C in bed with him for an hour and me for about four hours. He did better last night, only needed me for about an hour. He’ll be fine. Tonight? So far, so good.

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I absolutely adore Canadian singer-songwriter Kathleen Edwards. Her debut LP, 2003’s “Failer” Kathleen Edwards - Failer, was an alt-country masterpiece. She’s never really matched the quality of that debut, but she’s put out two more outstanding albums. The lovely “Scared At Night” comes from 2008’s “Asking For Flowers”, which is available from Kathleen Edwards - Asking for Flowers (Bonus Track Version).

 
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