the good guy

its_a_wonderful_life Husband and I have opposite working schedules at the moment, and because I prefer to lead as civilized a life as possible, I try to get another pair of hands when I’m alone with the three of the Wild, Beautiful Kajillion Children who live in my house. Every night Husband works, my dad joins me getting the kids from day care, getting them fed, bathed, and put to bed. I think I probably see my dad and co-workers the most out of anyone right now. He can’t do a lot of things he used to, but he can still feed the babies, talk to them, tell them how wonderful they are — all of which is incredibly important to raising Dem Babies. The Girl Twin, in particular, needs so much attention (to which I tell her, Girl, you were born in to the wrong family, but we will try), that she and my dad are really close. But beyond taking care of the kids, my dad always keeps an eye on me, urging me to take it easy, take a nap. He is calm on the occasions I flip out (caused by a variety of factors, e.g., broken glass on the floor with the kids at home makes me on edge). People with his condition typically do not get out of bed, so I don’t know how he does it. The days he doesn’t come to see us, my mom tells me he sleeps all day — which could be as a result of physical illness, or he might need to recover from the insanity of seeing me and the teeny ones. Anyway, this year, I get to spend gobs of time with my dad, and I can tell you this — he is a really, really good guy. A really good guy.

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