The Good Life

I can remember a time when my wife and I had just gotten married that weekends were a time of relaxation, recharging and quiet nights together.

Those days are long gone, replaced by soccer games (i.e. Caden pictured above seeking net returns), baseball practices, dance recitals, birthday parties and the such. Needless to say, my weekends have become blurs thanks to the activities of my children. 



Some days, it's easy for me to get in a sour mood from all the running about from here to there. Heck, I'm human. I'd like some time to myself as much as the next guy. Sometimes, though, it takes someone else to point out what's really important.

That happened to me this past weekend.

After a Saturday full of soccer games, slumber party sleepovers, birthday parties and, oh yes, one broken iPhone, I was already running on fumes when the family headed to church Sunday morning. My mood soured even more when my youngest (pictured in a more angelic light below) chose the Palm Sunday mass as the perfect time to throw the mother of all tantrums.

Home after church led to the discovery that the door handle to the laundry room had broken, locking us out and prompting a trip to Ace Hardware for a new one.

By the time I reached The Boy's afternoon baseball practice, I was spent — physically, emotionally and mentally. With a few players missing for the practice, I volunteered to run the bases during drills to give the kids some extra practice. Two hours later, I was hobbled, hurting and just looking for a couch to collapse upon.

And that's when I was reminded why I do it.

The Boy, in tow with me as we made our way (slowly) to the car, slapped me on the back and said, "You were really running like crazy out there old man." Which drew a laugh from one of his teammates, followed by the words every father loves to hear: "Yeah, your dad's pretty cool."

Ah...the good life.