Adventures Of Fatherhood

Parenting is much more physical than I ever could have imagined.
Maybe it’s because we have two boys that are just 16 months apart, but I must admit that come Monday morning my body is exhausted from a weekend of antics with my sons, who are now 5 and 4 years old.
Consequently, Pam and I are always dealing with some sort of nagging ailment it seems as a result of something to do with our kids.
For example, for the last week, Pam has been battling some sort of kink in her shoulder and back that is probably the result of lifting Carson, the near-50-pound, 4-year-old, in and out of the car seat. He can get in his car seat on his own, but that’s not usually a good idea for his parents. If we just let him loose, he will do anything but get directly in his car seat. Impromptu games of keep away, tag or hide and seek are some of his favorite moves.
With her dealing with her injury, I got to thinking about all the other physical requirements that come with parenting that I never would have imagined.
Here’s a look at some events that immediately come to mind for the fictional Parenting Olympics:

50-Pound Dead Lift
Carson insists on not sleeping in his bed. That’s why every night before I turn in I slip into his room, pick him up off the floor and put him back in bed under the covers.
Since he tips the scales at around 50 pounds, it’s becoming more and more of a difficult task to lift him these days.
Pam is often to quick remind me to bend my knees when I pick him up. It’s easy to remember because I could never pick him up otherwise.

Quick Hands
Carson’s penchant for throwing objects requires quick hands.
Sometimes it’s to grab a certain item out of his hands before he cocks it back to let it sail. Other times it’s to catch whatever has been tossed before it hits a wall or a piece of furniture and oftentimes it’s to block something from striking his brother.
On the positive side, it does keep my hand-eye coordination primed.

Agility Drills
With all the rain last weekend leaving puddles in our yard, backyard play was limited so Beckett, 5, and I hit the street for soccer. That meant I had to be on my toes.
He prefers to kick the ball hard at this stage in his life and is not too concerned with direction. I usually embrace that approach when we are practicing in the yard, but it’s quite different on the road surface and often involves some long runs unless I can get to it quick enough to stop it from going past me.
That’s where the agility part comes in, and I think I was able to get to about 30 percent of the balls he kicked my way with the others rolling down the street (and rolling).
I eventually got smart and got a few balls to keep the long runs to a minimum.

10-Yard Sprints
Expect the unexpected is a good rule in my world, and that sent me nearly into a tizzy last Sunday.
With the yard too wet, I took the kids out to the street and driveway to burn off some energy prior to the Ravens game.
Beckett wanted to play soccer, and Carson wanted to use his scooter. That was fine by me until Carson no longer wanted to play with his scooter and instead use my truck’s running board to scale it. I let him knock himself out for a couple minutes because I knew the truck was locked and he couldn’t do much damage. Plus, Beckett was instructing me on the proper way to kick a soccer ball and reminding me to stay focused on the task at hand, advice that he has been reminded of often in his young life.
With my head on a swivel and my nerves hitting a fevered pitch, Beckett calmly told me, “I know what I just said, but you might want to take a look at what Carson is doing?” Apparently, the truck was not locked after all and Carson had managed to open the passenger door. There he was hanging on to the side view mirror with his legs dangling as the door opened.
Now, I was never the fastest guy on any sports team I played on, but I do put my five- to 10-yard sprint time up against anybody’s, particularly when it comes to preventing a kid from getting hurt.

Quiet Stair Haul
I find it sweet when the kids fall asleep on the couch at night before their bedtime. If they are too exhausted to keep their eyes open at 7 in the evening, that means we have done something right as parents in my book.
The downside is carrying their cumulative 100 pounds of weight up the stairs of our 105-year-old house without waking them up. Fortunately, both of them are fairly heavy sleepers and a few squeaks from old steps usually are not enough to wake them up.
It’s a pretty good workout, too, because slow and steady results in a lot less noise, at least on our stairs.