Different Than Before

Coming home from work is one of my favorite things. The baby is usually the first to run up to me, yelling, "Daddy!" I pick her up and get a big hug, then she rubs my hairless head and says, "Head." When she finally lets me put her down--which is just as hard on me as it is on her--I signal to the older kids the excitement they should feel when I come home by yelling enthusiastically, and a bit facetiously, "Daddy's Home!" When the kids are in the kitchen, it's my wife who yells it. That way they go running to find me and let her finish dinner. Either way, I get my smiles and hugs from them too. Then begins "show and tell," where the kids simultaneously tell me about their day and show me tricks on the couch or pictures or crafts they created. I love it all, and no matter how my day is, I try to muster up all the energy I can to engage with them fully while they are showing and telling. Then, they run off to something new and the work begins. Most of the time it's preparing for dinner. Tonight, it was babysitting the children of good friends while they went out, in addition to flying solo with my own kids while my wife went to a meeting. For a while, I thought I was pretty amazing. I got the girls bathed, let the kids play without hovering like I usually do to make sure they share and use manners or anything else I can think of. They seemed to be having fun. Then I put on a brief show for the kids while I put the girls to bed. Man was I efficient. But my four-year old son, the most perceptive and insightful little boy I've ever known, said, "Daddy, your different than before." It took me a moment to digest what he was saying--that's how smart he is. Then I got it. I asked, "Am I being a little grumpy?" He said, "Yeah. You're excited when you get home. Now you're different." I didn't have a response. I think I lamely mumbled something about having to take care of six kids all by myself. But I can't get what he said out of my mind. It seems that what he's saying is that during the short time I am home he wants me to stay engaged, to slow down. Didn't he see how much I got done tonight? Clearly not. What he did see was that I was zooming through the house too quickly to really play with them or even to have our full bedtime routine. Now that they are in bed, I see it too. Going to bed on a night like this feels a little unsatisfying, like running around the office all day without billing any time--there's no value added.