Life in the Busy

Lately, life has been busy.

It feels as though I've been moving continuously from one state to the next, doubling up on job and work, trading off with my spouse on pick-ups and drop-offs, edging in Zack's play-dates and squeezing in mealtimes, household chores, teacher appointments, skating practice...

Mind you , I'm not complaining. After more than six months last year unemployed, it is a rare pleasure to be occupied with work, even when it starts to build stresses of its own into your daily routine. Unemployment carries its own particular pressures, both different and in many cases more problematic than overwork, not the least of which is the internalized piece that impacts on your own attitude and well-being. Like it or not, jobs are a critical and integral element of a person's identity and, despite what we may say, often representative of more than just a paycheck and money in the bank. Employment carries a weight, an identity and a self-worth that generally far exceeds its importance. I may know intellectually that my job is just a job but the loss of it may still me cut to my core...

So all in all, its nice to be busy.

It is always a trade-off between the demands of parenting and the demands of work, with precious little time for downtime, or special time with your significant other. You pass each other in the early morning, exchanging glances, smiles, small talk and encouragement, coordinating schedules, getting ready for the day, and repeat it again in the evening, alternating who can work late and who has to pick-up the boy, and in truth, by the time you get home, you are so tired and drawn out that the evening tends to blur past until the sheer oppressive density of it all leaves you sprawled on the couch in front of the ambient blue light of the television, endlessly surfing channels out of ingrained reflex rather then desire. Muscle memory gone mad..or at least apathetic.

But every once in while, you get a surprise, dropping out of the clear blue...

Last week my wife informed me abruptly that we were going out on Saturday night. She refused to tell me any more other than to be ready by 7 pm and that her sister would be babysitting Zachery. While this isn't a world-shattering occasion, I can count on one hand the number of times my wife has dropped a surprise date on me in our almost ten years of marriage.

Wondering what was up, I ask Zack what he know about this surprise. Zachery being Zachery, he immediately "ratted out" his mother, explaining to me solemnly that "Mommy is taking you dancing, Daddy." My wife just smiled mysteriously and refused to tell me what she had in mind, although she did hint that she had deliberately told Zack we were going dancing because she knew he can't keep secrets (she is forever finding out about her Christmas and birthday presents from him).

My wife's sister duly arrived and Zack waved us a perfunctory goodbye from the back door before grabbing his Aunt by the hand and dragging her off to see his toys. We headed downtown, dressed to the nines, with my wife, grinning excitedly and glamerously beautiful as always, behind the wheel, still refusing to reveal our ultimate destination. As we headed downtown, gliding cleanly through the wet winter landscape, she started turning her head with that slightly worried tilt I recognized instantly. Directions are not her strong point, so she finally broke down and informed me that we were going to the theater to see the musical Mamma Mia.

Apparently the executive director of her office had stopped in on Friday and surprised her with a free set of tickets to the show. If my wife has one astonishing character flaw, it is that despite being one of the most genuinely generous and helpful souls I've ever encountered, she almost always is caught utterly by surprise when someone does something nice for her. It seems to baffle her constantly that anyone would think to do for her what she so often does for other people. I don't think she stopped smiling about it for at least three days...

Aside from my own good fortune to be a co-recipient of the tickets, I think I owe a sincere thanks to anyone who can help conspire to make the woman I love have such a enjoyable weekend. Thank you so much!

From our precarious balcony seats we had a terrific view of the performance and the stage, but I confess I spent a considerable amount of time sneaking peeks at my lady, watching her as she watched the show, lip-synching to Abba, her eyes dancing in the footlights...

It was, in a word, marvelous.

And as an added bonus, an extra-excited Zachery was still awake when we arrived home at 11:30 pm...wanting to hear about our great adventures and tell us his own wild tales of his Aunt's babysitting...new aspects of which are being revealed daily, the latest being the cup of coffee that she spilled all over my wife's favorite Persian area rug...yes, he ratted his Aunt out too. Nice to see it isn't always me.

That's life in the Busy.

Comments are always welcome. You can reach me at dadchronicles(at)hotmail.com