Caught between a joy and a curse

Raising kids can be both a joy and a curse. Some days are gems, where they amaze with all they can do: how quickly they appreciate knowledge; how distinct their personalities; how six-going-on-26 they can be. The potential is massive and they leave you just shaking your head in disbelief.

Other times they can be the biggest pain in the posterior. They’re impenetrable, self-assured, demanding and speak in absolutes so unvarnished that they quite often shame you without ever intending to do so.

The hell of it is you never know which you’ll get: sweetness and light or obstinate and edgy.

We had the chance over the holidays to spend a ton of time with the kiddies. Both had the flu with the usual accoutrements (details of which I’ll leave to your imagination) and that meant plenty of face-time.

In truth, they’re not kids anymore but little persons, if you get the distinction. And funny how while one fights nausea the other hums busily and wonders what we can do next to stave off boredom.

Seems the word ‘boring’ has become iconic in our daughter’s lexicon, particularly if we don’t select the right book to read, activity to pursue or television station.

I’m a newshound and cruise such sites regularly. The kids know this and will sometimes actually suggest The Weather Network (so we’ll know what to wear outdoors, natch!) or CTV NewsNet (just because it’s good to be informed, Dad) and I go with it until interest wanes and Treehouse beckons.

Still, this is when I think golden thoughts, applaud their youthful interest and hope beyond all measure they never become familiar with MTV or MuchMusic Loud. Like that’ll ever happen, but hey! A guy can dream, right?

Most times, however, the channel we pick or book we display is dismissed instantly with that charming new word. Boring!

The moment goes downhill from there because, for some reason, attention span is linked directly to the unfortunate description. And as soon as the word is uttered, unrest begins.

I can’t wait to find out what ‘boring’ will constitute as they get older, but my gut tells me it won’t be long before they find mom and dad just as dull as dishwater and won’t be shy in sharing that opinion.

However, for the most part, our time over the holidays was wonderful: relaxing, interactive (in more ways, perhaps, than I might’ve imagined) and educational.

It’s a treat on one hand to see how remarkably well they relate to one another, even when sick, but I wonder, too, how much longer that’ll last as each gets older, more independent and remains as vocal in staking individual territory.

They continue to confound as much as delight and I suspect I’m not at all alone in this. Parents everywhere I’m sure feel similarly and can’t help but marvel at the dichotomy.

For me, it’s a day at a time, walking a tightrope between out-and-out wonderment and rushing occasionally for a metaphoric referee’s jersey when chaos erupts.

I’d like to think there’s middle ground somewhere, but it hasn’t materialized, clarifying the suspicion that kids are ultimately as complicated and simple as opposites - Yin/Yang; night/day; dark/light; boy/girl – with no sway in-between.