Responsible? Helpful? Organised? Tick. Tick. Tick.
I give up.
Believe me, I’ve tried.
Turns out, I’m not cut out to be The Fun Parent.
Responsible? Helpful? Organised? Tick. Tick. Tick.
I can be cooking dinner while monitoring my seven-year-old daughter Caitlyn’s piano playing while calling out to my son Caleb (he’s five-going-on-50) to finish his milk while paying a bill. Nothing new to most multi-tasking mothers. What my mothering skill set sorely lacks is playful spontaneity. Maybe I hit my funny bone when the Man Upstairs was doling out the ‘merry-making’ gene?
You see, I’ve been playing the role of Mummy and Daddy for the past month or so while my husband has been travelling. This comes with its share of benefits: think no picking up after his mismatched socks; watching The Block on TV; eating scrambled eggs on toast for dinner… But the novelty has worn off.
Shh! Don’t tell my husband that.
The kids miss their dad and I miss having my man around to chat – and argue – with. We miss his silly names for all of us: Caitlyn is Princess Poo Poo; Caleb is Pooperhero. We even miss the teasing, tickles and taunting. But most of all, we miss him making us laugh.
Fun comes naturally to my husband. Every weekend is filled with the three of them immersed in impromptu imaginary games like Lions, Octonauts and Space Pirates.
The amazing thing is he makes any situation seem like fun, working it to his advantage, and that too, with minimal effort!
For instance, every morning he gets the kids to walk on his back. So he wakes up with a wonderful body massage. What do the kids get for their efforts? "Springboards" and "Sleigh Rides" – don't ask! He even gets the kids to do his jobs while leading them to believe they're on an adventure.
If the kids want fun and frolics, dad's the man! But if they need anything sorted and "solutioned", they turn to me.