Rumpled. Exhausted. Wrinkled: Hyperbole and Parenting

beforechurch

Dear Izzy, Max, and Kate,

Sometimes I think the hardest thing in life is getting a 5 year old dressed.

Maybe that’s hyperbole.

I don’t know. I’ve been through a lot of stuff in my life. Hard stuff. Disappointment. Loss. Uncertainty.

But getting a kid dressed and out the door – that’s stress. I often wonder why it’s so hard for you to stand still for the entire 90 seconds it takes to put your clothes on, your pants on – and yes, then your shirt – aaaannd yes, your socks too. Then find both shoes. Generally it’s more like: undies on, but both legs in one leg hole, fix that, you turn in circles, I grab your arm and pull you back, put your pants on but you stand on the inside of the knees.

“Jump. Jump,” I say. You grab my ears and jump. Finally your pants are on…then you run across the room shirtless for a nano-second of play time with your toys.

“We’re not done!”

I track you down and start the traumatic process of putting your shirt on – head in the arm hole, fix that,  elbow first into the arm hole.

“Push! Push!” .

You run off again. Catch a glimpse of Ninja Turtles. I tackle you and start the worst of it, putting your socks on. Ten toes go in 100 directions somehow. By this time I’m sweating.

With twins it’s twice the effort. Quadruple maybe. 1000x maybe. 

Defeated I go in search of your shoes.

“Now, don’t get wrinkled. Please, just sit down and watch TV for a minute,” I say. “We’re leaving for church in 5 minutes. 5 minutes. Don’t get wrinkled.”

But 5 minutes in kid/parent hours is an eternity.

Hyperbole? Or not?

5 minutes.

Plenty of  time for a quick wrestling match.

wrestle1

wrestle2

Rumpled. Exhausted. Wrinkled. We leave for church each Sunday morning.

I love you anyway,

- Daddy

TRAINING:

Sat: Biked 20 miles

Sun: none

Mon: Ran 6 miles / Swam 1000

Tues: Biked 30 miles

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