Parenting is harder than Pro Football

In football, during the playoffs, teams get "Bye weeks."  In parenting, during the screamfest tournament, I get only a bye day...I think that is today.

Last night, more of the same.  We thought we'd give everyone a change of scenery and go out to dinner...BIG MISTAKE.  Maisie didn't want to eat and thus proceeded in one swift motion to create a 15+ foot splatter zone around her and our table.  The wait staff at La Hacienda seemed abundantly thrilled with this.  THEN, Logan began to melt down and not tell us what was wrong.  After 5 minutes of telling him that there were other people here who "didn't want to hear his mouth," (channeling my inner Bob May, I think) he finally caved and told me that his issue was that he wanted to be in a seat like Maisie.  So we sat, in a booth, with two kids crammed in high chairs at the end of the table...[enter pomp and circumstance that starts the circus H E R E]

This meant that we got to spend dinner saying, things like, "don't push her chair or you'll flip it over." "keep your feet off the table," "she can't get any closer/farther away because you're both in high chairs."  This culminated in my asking the waiter if he wanted either/both children.  Up until this point, he didn't speak great English (think of Rob using sign language for "Cheese Deep" and "small cerveza"), but that translated well enough that he picked up Maisie, in highchair, and walked away.  In parenting, there is a nanosecond where anything and everything makes you panic...he took just a hair longer than that nanosecond and I almost went after the dude.  But, he brought her right back (with a slightly less than panic look *note to self - start talking to Maisie now about stranger danger*), walked away and came back with a ring pop.  Yes folks, ONE ring pop...and 2 kids.  For the second time during dinner, I almost killed the waiter.  $1.50 later at check out we thwarted the single ring pop issue with Logan's first piece of gum (the giant ball of gum), a ring pop and 2 york patties. 

We will not be going out to eat with the kids again any time soon.

So, my "Bye day."  This morning, Logan was an angel...really an angel, almost better than his normal good self.  He got up happy, ate breakfast without incident, allowed me to dress him without a fight, went potty willingly... and then the Pièce de résistance, he said, "Mommy, I love you."  It was then I realized that today we both get a bye.  With any luck, it will last all weekend.  In all likelihood, it will last for 24-36 hours with only a few hiccups.  Either way, I'll take it. 

Pro Football players train, practice, play an entire Preseason and a Season of full contact football before they enter the playoffs and receive their "bye week."  Parents get 9 months to joyfully plan for the next 18 years, at best they trained as teenagers while baby sitting or watching a younger sibling.  Parenting is a full contact sport, if you don't believe me, just try to trim the fingernails/toenails of a toddler, or attempt to politely suck boogers out of their nose with one of those bulb things...it's full contact people, take my word for it. So, today I will gladly take a bye and use it to find perspective.

I am glad that parenting is my sport, I would choose it any day over pro football.  The rewards are far greater and much longer lasting... Everything about parenting is better than pro football...well, except for the pay.