Day 21: From Super Dad to Super Dud

This may sound strange, but waking my kids up in the morning is one of the simple pleasures in my life.  Nicholas wakes up easily.  He almost always flashes me a smile, says "Good morning dad," and then gives me a big hug.  He then latches on piggy-back style and takes a ride on "The Breakfast Express" down the stairs and to the dining room.  Aidan takes a bit more coaxing to wake up and I usually wind up singing some corny song that gets him smiling and ready to go.  For some reason, this morning I woke him up by singing "Still Fighting It" by Ben Folds.  If you are not familiar with the song, it is sung from a father to his young boy and it begins, "Good morning son."  The song then commences to make me tear up every time I hear it. For me it is a song that reminds me about how fleeting these moments with my children are and what great blessings they are from God to me.  Someday these boys will grow up and these precious memories will begin to fade and I will wish I could go back in time to retrieve them.  I'm crying right now just thinking about it.  I don't know why my day had to start with this song but I felt proud of my kids and pleased with the way we parent them.  They are the greatest source of joy in my life.

As the day went on I really struggled with hunger.  Mr. Crabby Pants struck again.  Over the weekend I talked with a friend who has a coworker who is Muslim.  He had told her at some point that Ramadan is difficult for him for two reasons:  everyone is always bringing in snacks to work where he is the only Muslim and he really gets crabby when he gets hungry.  I am glad to see that this problem is not unique to me . . . I must be doing something right!

Tonight was our turn to host our friends for dinner and as I was busy trying to make enchiladas I was hungry.  This was by far the most difficulty I have had cooking and not being able to snack.  And since a really hungry Eric is a really grumpy Eric, I was not happy.  To top it off, approximately every three minutes Nicholas had a question.  With each "Dad" I found myself becoming increasingly irritated.  The same word that brought me such happiness in the morning was now annoying the hell out of me.  "What Nicholas" begat "What Nicholas" which begat "What NOW Nicholas?!"  I had gone from super dad to super dud.  I tried taking a deep breath and saying a short prayer but I wasn't finding much success in that.  I failed miserably at yesterday's notion of needing God more than food.  I truly understood how the Muslim king must have felt. 

So that's the day and I'm not really proud of it.  These moments with my kids won't last forever and I wasted a golden opportunity today.  Tomorrow is another day and perhaps I have learned a lesson.  But if I know me, I wouldn't hold my breath.