Stories from the Frontline of Fatherhood: January 21, 2006
I know it has been a couple weeks since I submitted a report from the Frontlines, and, surprisingly enough, I know this even without looking at a calendar. I’ve been holed up and then in recovery from the week’s prior holiday weekend (Martin Luther King, Jr.) with all the kids home; it was non-stop pure excitement with all the little ones reunited from their various schools and activities from the first minutes on Friday afternoon to the exciting Monday evening family movie capping off the long weekend.
I can tell yet another week has past because my daughter has gone through her weekly sleep cycle which has cued me into the fact that we are, once again, at a weekend. With her around, I can always tell when the weekend has arrived because on these beautiful, rejuvenating opportunities set aside for rest from the business of the weekdays, she is always up and at it before dawn. From what I can tell, she holds these days so precious and rare that she wants to get the most out of them, which for her is getting up before the sun rises and starts counting the passing time. The weekends are so full of promise for her: it is her time to play with her friends, brothers, toys, and do other interesting things on her schedule not her school’s, parents’ or other people’s.
Unfortunately for those of us hoping to catch up on a little sleep in the unreasonably late predawn hours of the weekend, we often are up nearly simultaneous with the little weekend rooster after she’s ever so carefully shut a door or gone to check if her brother is awake. It is nearly miraculous that in process of checking to see if he is awake, he seems to always get up just before she pops her head in his room.
Needless to say, the festivity starts early around here, celebrating the opportunities of self empowered weekend scheduling and family time. It is great that every Saturday morning is little bit like Christmas Day for her: she is so excited to see what the morning holds that she jumps out of bed incredibly alert and excited to unwrap the presents of her day. I just wish she would consider getting a pot of coffee ready for the rest of us, who albeit pleased, impressed, and humored with her joy for life, wish that we couldn’t necessarily set a watch to her.
