Parenting is a gamble

This morning, I am sitting in a light-filled café with Bob Marley playing in the background. My second cup of coffee is sitting empty next to my computer, and my inattentiveness and jitteriness reflects the mistake. All I want to do is play outside with this energy, rather than study the day away.

It’s an unusually beautiful day outside – a sunny day in the 70s – and sitting in this idyllic café is torture, but necessary. If I want to be prepared for class, I must study before the girls get out of their extracurricular activity.

I wonder if preparation is overrated as college students laugh with their friends outside. After two hours of preparation, I finish homework for only one of my classes. One more hour before I have to pick up the girls. There’s never enough time in the day.

I dream about the afternoon. Maybe we’ll go on an adventure, exploring Oakland’s hills and the treasures in our backyard. I dream of the girls’ laughter and curiosity.

I think about this morning, a frustrating adventure in trying to stay present. Ima Kate and I are both sick, and I have little patience for E’s whining or S’s tattletales. I just wanted a nice breakfast, specialized pancakes of happy faces, crowns, and cats. Instead, the children were whining and hungry, eager to be at my side for every single damned minute while I’m trying to coordinate designs on a hot pan. E didn’t want to get dressed or brush her teeth or get the plate of pancakes she had specifically asked for. S told E what to do, answered for Ima and myself when she didn’t know the answers, and got in my way constantly.

Maybe this afternoon will be one of those magical ones, where their smiles and curiosity melts my hearts. Or maybe this afternoon will be like yesterday’s, full of whining, crying, and deaf to directions. At the store yesterday, I constantly reminded S to “look with your eyes, not your hands.” After the fifth time of repeating myself S said, “You keep saying that!!!” Yes, my love, I do, and it’s frustrating to BOTH of us that you are a seven year old child who has almost knocked over two displays in the course of ten minutes, so keep your darn hands to yourself. Not that I said that, of course, but sometimes those girls, man…

But then there’s these moments that are just magical. Last night, after we had dinner and taken the dogs for a walk, Ima Kate and I were exhausted. One of the girls recommended we read. The four of us sat down on the couches and silently read our own books, intermittently interrupted by a child asking how to say a word or what it meant. At bedtime, the girls giggled and laughed, playful and extremely loving. Sure, E had just whined terribly a few minutes before, but her nighttime smile always makes it worth it. 

And that’s the glory of it. Parenting isn’t predictable, but the gamble sure is worth it. If, for nothing else, a beautiful smile and lots of laughter.