One Night at Fuddruckers

Isn't it weird the things that stick with us? Julie and I have a long standing joke in our relationship inspired by a family that we observed at a Maryland Fuddruckers about 9 years ago.

Julie and I had just sat down to eat, when we noticed a family of seven walk in. They ordered and headed to their seats in the game room at the back of the restaurant.

Just a quick set up of the scene, the game room is on the opposite side of the restaurant from the register/food pick-up/fixins' station. Julie and I were sitting near the drink area in the center, on the main aisle.

I don't think we even noticed until the third or fourth trip, but we could barely contain our laughter as the number of trips the father took from their table to the register/food pick-up/fixins' station grew and grew and grew.

He went for spoons, knives, ketchup, crackers, etc., etc. As young newlyweds, with no kids in our horizon, it was quiet humorous to see this harried father walk back and forth with no real end in sight. "Why couldn't he just get it together?"

Over the years whenever Julie or I took a couple too many trips to do a seemingly simple task, Fuddruckers would be mentioned to draw out a laugh. Oh, but how things come full circle...

A couple of days ago we were trying to get out of the door to take Julie to work and for me and the Z's to the YMCA. I went out to start the car and unlock the doors ... I walked out to get Zoe and Zane into the car and drop the diaper bag ... Then back in to get my bag for the Y ... Time to put Zadie in the car ... Oops forgot Zoe and Zane's juice cups ... Oh yeah, my coffee, can't leave without that ... My MP3 player ... Snacks for the kids, because we were planning on going to the mall after the Y. All in all 9 trips back and forth from the house to the car, and three times locking and unlocking the front door ... I realized something on Tuesday. I have become the Fuddruckers guy. I have become the butt of my own jokes.

Now I am sure there are studies about sleep deprivation and lack of stimulating conversation and the affect on the parental brain that might explain the whole situation, but I think it goes deeper than that. I think good parents change their priorities. At the time of the trip to Fuddruckers that night, we were still looking for a good party. Now our good parties end at 9pm so we can get a good nights sleep.

People are by nature inward focused. A survival mentality. If you want to be a good parent, I think much (but not all) of your focus must be then directed outwards, toward your children. It may be cliche, but parents do hold the future in their hands and it is a tremendous responsibility.

Being a stay-at-home dad is a very rewarding and fulfilling endeavour ... if I step back and take a 30,000 foot view of my life. But on the days when you are removing the breakfast dishes at lunch and the lunch dishes at dinner, it can seem a bit overwhelming and trivial. My previous job was filled with deadlines. Hard and fast deadlines. If someone was having an event at 8am on Saturday Morning, they needed their signs and graphics by close of business on Friday. With kids, you have small deadlines; make it to the store and back before nap time meltdowns or making it to Julie's work in time to collect milk for Zadie's next feeding, things like that.

The deadline for growing your children, though, never comes. When would you say your job as a parent ends; college, marriage, kids of their own? A parents job is never done. The relationship dynamics change, but in our eyes they will always be the sweet, vulnerable newborn, that depends on you for absolutely everything. We would do anything to make life easier and more enjoyable for them.

While nine trips to the car in a five minute span could make me feel as though I should be fitted with a straitjacket and sent away somewhere. That is just a small blip in time when compared to the lifetime that we spend in the act of parenting.