Friday, February 04, 2005

Takes a Village.

While partially raising a child with Mrs. NOS and the very kind day care workers the thought often hits me: who the hell is responsible for the idtiotic decision to entrust me with a child's welfare? Really. I can just barely manage taking care of myself. Getting dressed, shaved, showered, and showing up on time takes all of my wiles - and I can usually barely manage 3/4 of these tasks each morning. Enter a child. Now I have to make sure she's on time, dressed, bathed, and shaved. Not shaved. That's me. It's hard keeping things straight. And I'm grateful to my wife for keeping us all shaved and dressed.

The other day I saw that someone else has this feeling - I'm not the only one.

A woman, aged about 35ish with her small dog, cell phone, 3 children at the playground. She's talking about something that sounds important on the phone - taxes I thought. The dog is licking my daughter's face, who loves it. Her three kids are going bonkers. The dog runs back to the woman as her oldest daughter, about 5, lifts up her little brother, aged 2, up to the monkey bars, where his little hands grip the bar. He's pretty strong, but he's going to fall eventually. His mother is both talking on the phone, holding the yappy dog, and holding her middle child.

So what do you do?

I didn't want to pull a M. Jackson, so I just went over to the hanging kid and spotted him. If he fell I think I would have caught him. Soon the mother came over and handled it very well. She thanked me, and had a nice/strict talk with the oldest child.

Again, it takes a village.