“Get in your damn car seat, Charlie. We’re going to be late for the pumpkin patch.”
Yes, these words actually came out of my mouth. And yes, this is precisely what two toddlers and too many Pumpkin Spice Lattes can do to a dad by mid-Autumn.
This October, I often found myself beaming with pride and fully embracing the joy that Charlie and Jack bring me on a daily basis. And then, moments later, I would occasionally find myself fighting unwinnable battles against those defiant, inpatient, and irrational autocrats…usually when Jordan and I were just trying to do something festive and fun for the little Jack-o-lanterns.
Years from now, when I look back on Fall 2021, I’ll have adorable photos capturing some amazing moments throughout the season. Pictures of the beach, hayrides, Penn State parties, Halloween, and everything in between. However, the pictures won’t tell the full story because not every moment was sunshine and pumpkins in the Janiec house. So I’m writing this to preserve the unfiltered narrative of this important chapter of my life- to treasure the good times, learn from the bad days, and gain strength from the struggle. I want to tell our truth, not as a cry for help, but as gratitude and recognition for the entire roller coaster ride of parenting. And during our next toddler tantrum, when Jordan and I take deep breaths to reassure ourselves that “this meltdown won’t last forever,” I’ll also be sure to remember that this special time in my life won’t last forever either, so I’d better cherish every moment.
This fall, I’ll remember the time we spent witnessing our kids growing up.
I’ll remember the sounds that came every morning at 6:40 am when Charlie would open her door, run across the hallway to Jack’s room, and shout, “Wake up, it’s a school day, bud! How’d you sleep, bud?!” After a few giggles and a few more “buds,” I’d hear both of them yell a beautiful chorus of “Dahh-Dahh” and “Daddy, Jack’s awake. It’s time to come get us. What are we having for breakfast?”
And I’ll remember the way that Charlie and Jack would jump out of my arms and climb into bed to cheerfully greet their Mom every morning.
I’ll remember the stories told at breakfast about Charlie’s classmates as we sang songs about “Peanut Buttuh,” and Charlie said hilarious things like “Hey Mommy, Daddy needs accoutabilee.” I’ll remember the car rides to school with Charlie nailing the chorus to “Fancy Like” and Jack bobbing his head and waving his arms to the drum solo in “City on Down.”
I’ll remember the school pick ups at the end of the day when Charlie would sprint and Jack would power waddle down the hallway and across the classroom to leap into my arms. I’ll remember the adorable questions like, “Mommy, are we having Chicken Parjohn for dinner?” or “Can we play the Pinio?” or “Can we see go on a walk to see the pink sky?” or Jack’s go-to question of “Dahhhh?” I’ll remember the squeals and giggles when we wrestled on the floor, threw around the nerf football, chased each other up the stairs, or danced around the kitchen. I’ll remember the excitement we felt when Jack took his first steps. I’ll remember how Jack looked up to his big sister and the way Charlie took care of her little brother.
I’ll remember the cute little girl in pig tails frolicking through the pumpkin patch or laughing and jumping at the edge of the ocean. I’ll remember the look on Jack’s face as Uncle Joe’s hayride took us through the field and past the horsies. I’ll remember our Penn State Cheerleader and fluffy Nittany Lion getting dressed up and excited for the big games. I’ll remember “Charlotte’s Web” and “Wilbur the Pig” hunting for candy and playing with their cousins on Halloween.
But this fall, I’ll also remember the time we spent experiencing our kids melting down.
I’ll remember the school day meltdowns that sounded like, “I want Blueberries in my yogurt!…no, not Blueberries!! I want strawberries!!!” Or “I want to wear my grey mask! No, my blue mask! No, I’ll put on my rainbow mask by myself, not you, Daddy!”
I’ll remember the full scale hostage-like negotiations to simply get the kids in and out of their car seats in a timely manner. Many of these struggles required me to seek help from our lead negotiator, Jordan, who would need to mute her important 8 am conference call to enforce law and order, so I could take the circus on the road and out of her home office.
I’ll remember Jack’s ridiculous shriek that would shake the house when I took away a dangerous “toy,” or tried to change Jack’s rancid diaper or when Jordan and I took longer than 2 seconds to serve the big man the dinner that was cooling down on the countertop. I’ll remember the big tuna flopping around the bathtub throwing toys and splashing bath water all over the room. I’ll remember the property damage, the bumps and bruises, and the “No, Jack!”s that came along with the Marshmallow Man knocking things off shelves, chewing on anything, and whacking his head on hard surfaces throughout the house.
I’ll remember the daily defiant chess match that Charlie played at bed time when she’d exploit creative loopholes, try crafty experiments, and exercise stubborn stall tactics. “It’s time for night-night” was often followed with, “I need to go potty. No, one more book. Where’s my giraffe? I need my giraffe. No, not the giraffe. The doggy! I gotta go potty. I need my water. Noooo!!!!! I need to turn the light off! Not you!”
I’ll remember the overflowing laundry room and kitchen sink, the jam-packed diaper bag and social calendar, the pile of toys and crumbs all over the floor, and all the fevers, stomach viruses, diaper rashes, new teeth, and high-stress moments that came with it. I’ll remember the ups and downs of raising a girl who is transitioning from her “terrible twos” to her “three-nager” years and raising a baby boy who is transitioning to a loud and mobile big man. But when I look back at Autumn 2021, I’ll be grateful for it all.
Because while Charlie and Jack weren’t the only ones melting down- Jordo and I had our fair share as well- they weren’t the only ones growing up either. Jordan and I treasured the good times, learned from the bad days, and gained strength from the entire journey as an exhausted but dynamic duo. As Matthew McConaughey says, “Most things are more rewarding when you break a sweat to get them.” This Fall was likely the most rewarding and “sweaty” time that we’ve had as parents. And before I wash off the blood, sweat, and tears, I’m writing this to preserve every last drop.
The Janiec Reflection 