Have you ever found yourself in a situation and thought, “What am I doing here?”
Going back nearly twenty years, I asked myself that question the day I woke up in Germany, and it finally hit me that it would be two years before I saw my family and friends. I stared at the ceiling as the sun crept through a small window. I didn’t want to move. Afraid of the unknown and not quite sure how I ended up thousands of miles away from Utah.
A similar experienced happened to me this past week. Kim was cleaning the kitchen while I tried to corral our three youngest children into the bathtub.
Luca was yelling because it’s her turn to take a bath. But the water is dirty. And what if there’s no more hot water left because I filled the tub too full, and mom is hogging the rest of the hot water by WASHING the dishes?
Catastrophic! Who knew hot water was so rare?
While washing the shampoo from Anna’s hair, Kai decided to pour water down the back of my pants, and now the kids can’t stop laughing because it looks like dad peed the back of his pants.
I’ve had enough.
I lean up against the hallway wall. I’m exhausted. I’m outnumbered. What am I doing here? Before I can answer that, I notice only two kids in the tub where three should be.
How did one escape while I’m standing TEN FEET AWAY?
This isn’t our first child. I can’t blame it on lack of experience or rookie mistakes. One might assume that by number four I’d have a handle on things. An orderly dinner would lead to kids working quietly on homework. Bath and bedtime would be a cinch. I should be a seasoned veteran by now. The Mariano Rivera of bed time. Yep, the bedtime closer.
So why does our bath routine result in more water on the floor and down my pants than in the tub? If the Super Nanny were in town, I’d be getting a lecture while our kids sat on the couch pulling faces and trying not to laugh.
As this runs through my mind, and I’m about ready to call for backup, I feel a tug on my pants. When I look down, I see a dripping wet two year old streaker holding a blue towel. He extends his arm towards me and says, “Help!”
I wrap him in the towel like a burrito so he can’t escape before picking him up. Before I can dry his hair, he puts his head on my shoulder.
There’s no better reward.
Later that night as I took off my shirt, I realized Kai’s long blonde hair has soaked much of it.
I may not always know what I’m doing, but I’m enjoying every minute of whatever it is.