Friday, 11 May 2012

A Day And A Bit In His Shoes

Five children, three of which are on the autism spectrum.  I only had to watch the two little ones, they're four years old, and they're the ones NOT on the spectrum.  And of course Dayton.  I had the help of the eldest daughter, 17, with Asperger's, a high functioning type of autism.

I survived.  I done good, the house didn't burn down and the kids were safe.  I lost my keys a few times, Dayton found my cell phone for me every time it rang as I continually "misplaced" it, I downed a lot of cough syrup, tried to help out with chores around the house and somehow managed to get the little ones to take their naps without passing out myself.  I changed a dirty diaper without vomiting even a little bit (dry heaving doesn't count, right?), and managed to feed the kids all at the same time.  By the time SuperDad came home, I wondered how on earth he could manage five kids on his own...  I only had three and his oldest, OK, so really, I had four, but still!  I only had them for the afternoon...  and I was calling Mayday!

How does he keep the laundry straight?  How does he know which piece of clothing belongs to whom?  I had a hard time figuring that one out, so when he got home, he had some sorting to do.  So much for trying to help.  Pants I figured were the boy's were actually his middle daughters.  As a woman, you'd think I'd know the difference between girl's and boy's clothing, right?  Ummm, how about no...  Never mind the boy is four and the daughter in question is eleven...

There's one bathroom in the house and he's potty training two toddlers.  They both had to go at the same time.  How does he determine which one is the urgent one?  They both looked real uncomfortable to me.

Both need to be bathed at the same time too, and neither one wants to go first.  How does he handle that?  And God forbid one goes to bed before the other.  How is he able to be in both bedrooms at the same time?

I don't think I've ever been as happy to see a man walk through the door as I was to see SuperDad come home to the rescue with a bag of KFC in his arms.  He was like a knight in shining armor.  I don't care much for KFC, especially now that I'm trying to keep my girlish figure, but I wasn't gonna complain, nope, not I.

But at the end of the day, even when off duty due to my rescue, I couldn't stop.  I hand fed the little girl, even though I really shouldn't have.  She's old enough to eat on her own, and I know she totally took advantage of me and had me wrapped around her little finger.  I tidied up her bed before tucking her in for the night.  She wrapped her little arms around me and bid me good night.  The little guy may not have shown me much affection at bed time, but made sure to strut his stuff for me after his bath.

Worn out and tired, wondering how I was going to drive myself home, I didn't want to leave.  Those kids are awesome.  Thank goodness I was taking one of them home with me.  My babe.  Dayton.  He took his job of helping me watch the kids very seriously, and had my back the whole time.  And SuperDad...  He's pretty awesome too.  I mean, he's SuperDad!

So, I've cracked SuperDad's super human power.  I figured out how he handles five kids all on his own.  I no longer have to wonder how he's able to manage.  It's called unconditional love.  I've heard of this strange phenomenon, and have that with my son, and now I've seen it between a father and his kids.  And I got a little of that magical stuff myself from these awesome kids.  But I must warn you.  Don't try this at home alone.  It is highly addicting, and very confusing.  One minute they love you, love you, love you, and the next, well, let's just say I thought I was growing horns and could have sworn I had a tail.  Even so, I know they care about me.  They may say no, but their little arms wrapped around me and the screams for 'Lou' tell me another thing all together.

SuperDad's life is super busy with the five kids and exhausting by the end of the day, but what I'd give to have all that love...  I no longer feel 'sorry' for him.  I envy him.  He is wealthy beyond our wildest dreams.  And once a week, I get to be selfish and share a few moments of this wonderful phenomenon.  God is good.

Wishing I could do a better job of verbally expressing these hugs to all of you,


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