Things.
Talk about stating the obvious.
Stop! Step away from the keyboard! Before you Google yourself away to another blog where the writer can pen prose with a point let me place the word “things” in context – The more things change, the more they stay the same.
In this case “T” is not only is the first letter for things, but the also the word Three – as in three kids. Yes, you read that correctly! Marina and I are expecting our third rug rat in September.
My reaction to the news of our impending arrival was underscored, as expected, with my undoubtable charm and wit. Marina “casually” left her pregnancy test on our bathroom vanity for me to find; her way of surprising me. With the subtly of a rhino in a tutu during a kindergarten recital of Swan lake, I picked up the test, turned to her and notified her with the utmost sincerity – as if she was clueless about what had transpired – “I think you’re pregnant.” Marina’s dismayed “He is about to get a slap upside the head” expression had barely registered on her face when I appended my first statement with the following: “Let’s hope this baby remembers to open the window when having a shower.”
The blasé tone of my response has all the hallmarks of the reaction I had when I found out Marina was pregnant with Dominic. Upon hearing that titbit of news, I promptly rolled over and notified Marina that I had 9 months more to sleep in.
When the news of baby number Three finally sunk in, my mind slowly started to mull over what having a third child actually meant for Marina and me. Well for one, sleeping-in is definitely not an option. Being Tired though is and having three whippersnappers will certainly give new meaning to the phrase “Sleepwalking.” In fact, I don’t think the word Tired properly describes the way Marina and I feel at the end of each day after putting the kids to bed. A more apt description would be “Tuckered out!” This constant weariness leads me to believe that while having three kids will certainly imbue our lives with chaos that is prevalent amongst a runaway nuclear reaction, not everything will be markedly different.
This is especially the case when Toys – the most important “T” Word in a child’s vocabulary – is involved. Currently, our family room is a collage of cars, trucks, stuffed animals, pencils, objects that squeak – which may or may not be a real mouse that is trapped amongst the clutter and cannot find its way home – crayons, collections of mismatched blocks and piles of books arranged in a homage to the leaning tower of Pisa. Add a third little decorator to the mix and we are bound to end up with a family room emblazoned in the dynamic styling of toddler chic.
Naturally, our boys current design style while being freeform and post-modern does not align with how Marina and I want our house to look – neat, tidy and with the ability to walk rather than slalom, through an obstacle course of refuse.
Enter a parent’s favourite “T” word “Tea” – the miraculous beverage can that calm and soothe through the tumult of toddlerism. Every sip allows us to ponder, nay dream, of a land filled with punctuality, a house where the floor is visible and does not contain a shrine to breakfast and the holy grail of parenthood which I have alluded to before – the sleep in. Three kids will certainly increase the consumption of this soothing liquid and no doubt give rise to thoughts of sunny beaches, endless silence and the enjoyment of a type of Tea that does not come f from a kettle, but is infused with ice and contains the words “Long Island” in its name.
If I was really honest, sometimes Tea does not do enough to quell the bedlam, and a Tranquiliser dart needs to be pulled out. On those instances when a Tranquiliser dart is not handy, the Television remote is the next best thing.
Nothing though can really soothe or prepare a parent for tantrums – The “T” word that is loathed by mums and dad’s the world over. But let’s not focus on that, because whether you have one, three or even nine kids, in the grand scheme of childhood, Tantrums are fleeting, and the word that sums up the joy of childhood succinctly is Tomfoolery. Not a day goes by when one of the boys does not do something zany, funny or just plain silly and has Marina and I in stitches of l laughter. It’s this beautiful innocence that makes every so exciting and enjoyable. To cap it all off, there has not been a variety of tea that has been cultivated, or nor will there ever be, that can match the warmth that fills are our hearts, when we get a cuddle and kiss from our boys at the day’s end when we tuck them into bed.
Having three kids will also take our meal times to the next level. Currently Marina dishes out four plates – one for Dominic, one for Matthew, one for herself and one for me. As it turns out this is two too many. Within the space of two mouthfuls the boys, like flock of seagulls, as Marina terms it, realise that the food on Marina’s plate is infinitely more appetising than what they have been served and swoop in with gastronomic intent. I can only assume this will continue once the third amigo or amigette is on the scene, and to avoid the impending “his (or her) piece is bigger than mine” debate, we are going to give our brood a Trough.
One of the biggest changes though I can imagine is Time, or as is actually the case, Time management. As it stands, with two boys, Marina and I have learnt to tap dance our way through the seconds to capture a moment or two where we can savour a cup of Tea, use the facilities, or even take a breath. With Three ankle biters nipping at our heels, it is imperative that we quickly master the art of tripping the light fantastic across milliseconds.
Before go I on, I have to ask, am I getting ahead of myself? Maybe I am being naive about the changes that may or not occur? Instead of going further into what some might term delusions of grandeur, and continue to write myself into a hole of prose that will no doubt come back and bite me on my posterior, let me focus on the pregnancy at hand and how little has changed since Marina was pregnant with Dominic.
One aspect that is consistent with her other pregnancies is her penchant for honesty. Like before, my pungent aroma of Garlic which normally keeps our family safe from vampires, is now also keeping my beloved at a distance too. She has also become quite blunt about the paternal nature of our impending bundle of joy. Recently, she informed me quite casually over a dinner of Pork Vindaloo (a dish that I am not a big fan of) that the smell of the meat and the spices were making her feel incredibly queasy and so “Obviously this baby is yours!” Nothing a like a pat on the back to make you feel loved.
Dominic too has joined his mother in “telling me how it is” by informing me I look like his best friends. This would not be a bad thing if his best friend were muscle bound superheroes, and not 3 year old blonde girls. To add insult to injury he has also compared me a character in his new favourite book “The three little pigs” – the third little pig. It so happens that this particular hog is the shortest, fattest of the three and the one with the biggest snout.
Recently though I have been asking myself has the Truth given way to Tall Tales? In her current state, it does not take much – The fridge, Matthews’s nappy, banana’s, grapes, me – to unsettle Marina’s delicate stomach (pun intended) and send her scurrying to the bathroom. Of late though, Marina has added dishwashing liquid to the list, leaving me to do the washing up. All I can say to this disturbing new development is…Things that make you go hmmm…
On the flip side of this food aversion is the myriad of Tantalising Taste Sensations and Iron Chef inspired dishes that make Marina’s stomach grumble and mine do a double take. While I am happy to share in her penchant for Chili chips and two minute noodles, I have to draw the line at Toasted Tuna and Gherkin Sandwiches.
I guess I should get used to this culinary concoctions, because once the three kids take control of kitchen, our meal times will never be the same. Likewise, in six months our lives will change forever. Marina and I are still pinching ourselves that shortly Dominic and Matthew get a new playmate, and there is very little we can do to contain our impatience and our excitement.
I may not completely understand what changes will occur, but I guarantee that there will not be a day when we do not wake up, no matter how early and what time, and thank God for the three precious gifts he has blessed us with. In other words, the emotion that completely encapsulates to a “T” our feelings on extending our family by one is that we are completely and utterly Thrilled.
Fortress of Fatherhood 