Hanging with Karlee: Part 3

Our first couple of days with Karlee were fun. Sure, there were some moments when Karlee didn't feel like hanging out with her uncles anymore, but we all managed to get through it. However, the third day with Karlee started to break down Uncle TJ's "She's only four" attitude and my patience. Apparently, kids are as persistent as a river trying to get the ocean, or maybe even as persistent as Scrat--that squirrel-like creature from the Ice Age movies. Either way, the third day proved to be the day when euphoria being together started to wear off.

That's not to say we didn't have fun, Karlee included; it's just that we faced some of our first true obstacles at a place appropriately called Hurricane Harbor.

We had decided that Hurricane Harbor would be the perfect place to take a four year old. We'd been there ourselves before, and while we didn't quite enjoy that time as much as we imagined we would (as much as we would have if we were still teenagers), we did think our experience would change with a child in tow. And it did. Just not in the way we imagined. Funny how trips to Hurricane Harbor are never what you imagine them to be. I guess the same could be said for most theme parks, with the exception of Disney World, of course.

Anyway, we got up early that morning and got ready. Karlee informed us that she was hungry. Tim said that we'd be getting doughnuts on the way to our friend Jen's house.

"You have to eat something healthy when you're going to eat a doughnut," she told her Uncle TJ.

"Oh, really. And who taught you that?"

"My Mommy."

So, we sliced up and apple for her, no skins, and quickly found ourselves loaded down with doughnuts and on our way to Jen's. Tim was kind to also get me a cup of coffee as an antidote to the early hour.

The running joke about Jen's house is that it looks like a giraffe from the outside. I'm not kidding either. It really does. So, as with most of our car trips, Karlee had me sit in the backseat with her playing the two car games she loves to play: "I Spy" and "Made You Look." Naturally, I pretended to be horrible at these games. Although, Karlee and I did have some fun at Tim's expense while playing "I Spy." I once told Karlee, "I spy something with my little eye... pink."

The answer was Uncle TJ's ear.

Really, I enjoyed the games because they kept Karlee occupied on the sometimes long drives to wherever we were going. However, I must admit that by the third day these games were getting a bit tedious, especially because Karlee is a sore loser, as I'm sure most kids are.

As we turned down Jen's street we were playing "Made You Look," a game of which Karlee is a master--though we did get her a couple of times with puppies and unicorns. It was my turn and I said, "Oh look! A house that looks like a giraffe!"

Karlee snapped her head to the window and cried, "Hey, that house really does look like a giraffe. That's not fair! You're supposed to say stuff that's not really there."

"Forgive me, Karlee."

We trekked our way up to the giraffe-house and were greeted by Jen and her five-and-three-quarter-year-old daughter, Peyton. It was our hope that Peyton and Karlee would hit it off and become friends, if only for the day, probably out of some understanding that we'd be a bit tired by the third day.

The good thing is they did hit it off. Karlee immediately mimicking her new-found friend. 

During our car ride, Karlee had made it clear that she loved doughnuts, especially chocolate doughnuts with sprinkles. However, when Peyton mentioned that doughnuts were unhealthy (kids are just too smart for their own good, right?), Karlee told us, "I don't like doughnuts. They're unhealthy."

All three adults smiled and allowed the girls to play for a little while in Peyton's room while Jen printed out her and her daughter's tickets to Hurricane Harbor.

I helped myself to three kolaches and a chocolate doughnut. Unhealthy be damned! I needed sugar!

Jen, Tim, and I ventured into her office and talked while Jen printed out the tickets. And then she revealed one of the biggest secrets of parenting I know:

Moms don't have eyes in the back of there heads. They just listen for the sudden silence.

Mid-conversation, Jen stopped and yelled, "Kids? What're you doing up there?" To which, they replied, "Playing Princesses!"

I've always found it masterful how parents can participate in a conversation and to their kids. It's like when they have kids they suddenly develop super powers, like hearing and strength. Jen demonstrated the latter at the park.

There have been a few conversations I've had where a parent will stop mid-sentence and rush to his/her children without a second look, and I'm left there wondering what happened. Kids aren't the only ones who create whirlwinds. Parents develop this talent out of necessity. After all, they need it to keep up.

Tickets printed and we were on our way, although not before a small controversy broke out over who Uncle Tony was going to sit next to during the car ride: Peyton or Karlee.

Little did we know that that brief encounter would be the start of something that would get just a bit bigger, something that would inspire me to write:

Competition and jealousy are innate traits. Patience is not.

Turns out, Karlee needed a mother figure by the third day. Despite having not mentioned her mother yet, she latched on to Jen with her little arms and rarely left her side all day. And Peyton's natural reaction was to try and do the same. Mom's arms were going to be holding a child, no matter what!

All day long, both girls clung to poor Jen, who took it all in stride. She never once complained, but Tim and I tried our best to keep Karlee occupied and off of Jen's hips and her back. Our attempts failed. A couple of times, Jen demonstrated her super strength by carrying both girls. We tried many times to have either Tim or myself do the heavy lifting, but the girls would have none of it. Karlee wanted a mom, which is something neither Tim nor I could provide, and Peyton wanted her mom all to herself.

It was at this point when I began to wonder a bit about how a child would respond to having two dads. I mean, Tim and I have discussed the possibility of having children, either through adoption or through surrogacy, but it never occurred to me that a child may want a mother figure. It was a blow to my belief that a family can consist of a variety of different parental figures. Could there be some truth to what all those people against gay marriage say? Could there be some truth to the whole one man/one woman thing?

This was not a happy thought, but it plagued me throughout the day.

Thankfully, after some more reflection, I realized that those types of questions are nonsense. There are plenty of families out there without either a mother or a father. And any child Tim and I have will grow up with both of us in their lives.

Karlee's reaction was natural for her situation, as was Peyton's. Both have mother's in their lives, and both mother's are their constants, their security blankets, if you will. Karlee and Peyton's reactions had nothing to do with Tim and me. They reacted based on what they know, their own experiences. And that's a comforting thought.

However, my own feelings of inadequacy as a potential parent were not only tested by Karlee's attachment to Jen; they were also tested by the kid's section of Hurricane Harbor.

Whoever thought of putting that monstrosity of a jungle gym--with rope ladders, many hidden tunnels, and scary-looking slides--should be shot. I was thankful the day before that Karlee could not get out of the play area at Legoland without either of us there to claim her. There was no such safety net at Hurricane Harbor.

A parent's life must be filled with fear. Everything, and I do mean everything, becomes a death trap when it's your responsibility to take care of a child, and children have an odd and illogical sense of fearlessness, a complete disregard for their own safety.

Karlee never hurt herself or got lost at Hurricane Harbor. The three adults that tried to follow her into the monstrosity mentioned above, however, came out of it breathless and with rope torn feet. Karlee disappeared into the maze of tunnels, and for the first time I felt a terrible anxiety for her safety. A water park must be a terrible place for a parent, where even a few inches of water becomes dangerous.

I couldn't relax the entire time we were there. Jen, Tim, and I had discussed having a couple of beers while the kids played, but we soon realized that such a luxury was impossible. Our anxiety was just too great. But I do want a drink now, just thinking about how anxious I was that day.

Maybe I'd get used to it. I don't know. I do know that I discovered another reason why many parents always look exhausted, and it's not just out of physical exhaustion. Fear. Fear for a child's safety.

After Hurricane Harbor, we were all exhausted, and of course, pulling Karlee away from all the fun--and Jen--proved torturous to the poor child. Once again, she asked to be taken to everyone in her family, except her uncles that is.

Our patience was starting to wear down by this point. Not because Karlee was asking for her family, but because we were starting to feel the effects of having to take care of a child, in all its glory.

Yes, children can be fun, and they often say "the darndest things," but they are definitely all id. They have no problem expressing exactly how they're feeling, no matter how much you tell them that that feeling will go away soon. They live for right now. Which is not necessarily a bad thing, however, it does present some frustrations for the adults.

As expected, Karlee fell asleep on the way home and completely forgot about being stressed out and tired and hungry and thirsty. See, all naps are important not just for the parent's sanity, but also so the child can shut down and reboot.