educator, writer, speaker, devoted family man, amateur philosopher, chess enthusiast, basketball junkie, connoisseur of fine hip hop, and purveyor of wit and wisdom
My sons exhaust me, and they exhaust me for different reasons.
MDB #1 is seven-years-old and he exhausts me mentally. A few weeks ago, he got mad at me because I turned off the computer after a spate of rude and disrespectful comments he made…after which he said that he wanted to call the cops on me because I was being too mean…and he wanted to live with GG (his great-grandmother). He is constantly thinking, he’s sometimes a bit too sensitive about things, and everything gets reduced to numbers and logic…he reminds me of myself as a kid. I told him that I wanted to take a picture of him, and the photo above is what I got. I asked him to turn around so I can get his full face, and he just stood there.
He’s the exact opposite of MDB #2.
MDB #2 is one-year-old (almost one and a half) and he exhausts me physically. He doesn’t sleep through the night yet, and when he’s fully awake during the day, all he does is move. Constantly moving. Constantly always continuously moving. I tried several times to snap a picture of him, and the photo above (where he’s trying to grab the camera) was the only one in which his head wasn’t blurry from moving around so much. He climbs the stairs so that he can play “Just Dance 3” on the Nintendo Wii. He climbs on kitchen chairs and tries to reach items on the kitchen table. He’s moving and squirming and climbing…and he doesn’t stop. He just doesn’t stop.
I love being a father, but I hate being tired. I can’t wait until they’re older a few years from now when they level off into something a bit more normal. Maybe then I can get some sleep.