Fear Factor

January 10, 2010 at 11:15 pm 5 comments

Okay, in truth there’s nothing to be frightened of. Just the abyss. Big Al is taking her arty self to the big city, by which I mean, of course, Long Island City, for a solo show of her wares, and Papa the Intrepid will mind the store and the gentle angels until she returns at the end of the week. Originally we had thought to hoist the toddlers (am I jumping the gun?) into the van and bring our whole road show south, but rational thought got the better of us. You can’t imagine just what it means to pack that van for a troubadour adventure of any length. Between the pack n plays, triple stroller, cases of bibs and sweaters and onesies and outerwear, food of various stripes, sippy cups, not to mention Big Al’s art this time out, it turned into a non-starter. I will be home, while my more worldly half hobnobs and sips suds with the cultural elite down New York way. I can handle it.

But just in case, and given the clear reality-show elements of the situation, you know, doophus dad alone in old farmhouse with triplets for half a week, I thought it might be profitable…er…fun, to rev up the old blog again and chart my progress, or demise. I have T minus 36 odd hours till go-time, not panicked yet.

The way I see it, the real challenge will be in the mornings. More often than not, I get up first, rouse the kids, scour their bottoms, shuttle them down the stairs, feed the cat, start the oatmeal, buy silence, or muffled groans, with cheerios, fry up a sausage or an omelet, cool the oatmeal, start the coffee, empty the dishwasher, and then transfer the oatmeal and sausage to the kiddy bowls each day. But at that point, Big Al walks guiltily in the room and takes over, feeding the boys, cleaning up what’s left to clean, and heralding the ship onward toward nap #1 at 9 or 9:30. I enjoy the macho buzz of being able to keep all those balls in the air, but I’m also terrifically grateful when I see the boys’ eyes light up at the vision of their groggy mama in the doorway. From that point on I sip coffee, stumble around stupidly, maybe plunk out a few Beatle tunes on the piano.

It’s the not having that relief that’s going to be tricky. Our life is basically a succession of “ons” and “offs.” You’re on, now you’re off. You’ve been on all morning, why don’t you be off for a while now? Uh, you’ve been off for a long, long time, now you’re on. It buys us sanity. So I don’t anticipate any single aspect of the alone-with-clones time to be particularly trying in isolation…it’s just the lack of backup, relief, a desperate jaunt to the grocery shop for graham crackers. To be fair, we will have a Jen a few hours each day while Al’s gone, so it won’t be quite all that relentless (and some laundry has at least a chance of getting done).

Anyhoo, stay tuned to see just what your host is made of.


Entry filed under: Uncategorized, update.

cyclic D day approacheth

5 Comments Add your own

  • 1. Squidocto  |  January 11, 2010 at 9:40 am

    Good luck, daddy! And don’t forget to tell us NYCers when the opening is.

  • 2. Nina  |  January 11, 2010 at 10:26 am

    Yes, very hard to bump up the effort when normal daily life requires superhero strength, endurance & agility.

    At the risk of mixed metaphors, may the force be with you!

    xoxo Nina

  • 3. shnootre  |  January 11, 2010 at 10:30 am

    there is no task too great for the superhuman power of…MORE COFFEE!!!

    Squid – you got it.

  • 4. Charlotte  |  January 11, 2010 at 1:26 pm

    Good luck, Dan! I will send as much positive energy as I can muster. Go, Super Dad, go!

  • 5. Mag  |  January 11, 2010 at 10:05 pm

    If only yo mama didn’t have a speech to make on Long Island Thursday morning, she would be there to back you up. Bad, bad timing. But I have total faith in Super Dad and send lots of love and support your way. And the good news is… I get to go to the opening in L.I. City and check in with your other half. xxxxxxx


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