As Jack and his wife one Founded his family, his previous life was turned upside down. Read the Story of a Father
Life Before a BabyBefore I became a father, I led a well-organized life. My wife Carol and I lived in a nice apartment, which we had set up really chic. I drove a noble car and we were traveling a lot. But the icing on the cake - and I do not want to sound cocky here - was my handsome wife. Carol was always well dressed and well-dressed. She enjoyed spending as much time with me as possible. Everything seemed perfect.
And then the children came and everything I had ever enjoyed in my life seemed to disappear.
I want my car back!My beautiful car, to which I had devoted so much love and time, filled with baby stuff. It was not the car seats or the change-over bags that bothered me - it was the empty cookie jars and the chewed biscuit pieces on seats and bottoms that really got me nuts.
The stress of keeping up the good work while driving the kids between babysitters left me with little time to care for my car. So the chaos got worse - until I had to give up all hope for a thorough cleaning and left the field to the bottles of curdled milk that caved under the seats.
We found mysterious alien objects in the car! There were plastic cans with rotted pieces of banana - dropped carelessly by the children. Once, on a most memorable occasion, we traced the trail of a particularly offensive odor to a carton that hid behind the child seat and was half full of fish salad. Both Carol and I lacked any clue as to how the carton had gotten there! So I took my fate and cleaned our car every few months armed with some garbage bags. But mysteriously, everything was the same again the following week.
I want my house back!Our house has changed to an unimaginable extent. There is never enough space. The room that was my retreat, where I could read in peace on the sofa, is now the nursery.
My possessions, my collection of movie and television memorabilia - The Desert Planet, King of Queens, and the original Starwars characters - all of them had to be dumped into a box and dumped into memory.My designer furniture has mutated into meandering jungle gyms. And I saved my favorite books from the living room because the kids were abusing them as coloring books.
I got used to crayon drawings on the wallpaper and food on the floor. I watch myself cautiously tiptoe so I do not outline the Lego ski slopes and Playmobil castles. My hallway has been converted into a racetrack and the living room carpet is adorned with a railway network of the company's own railway. Somehow I never find a place to rest with children running around the house.
I want my life back!After the kids came, Carol's designer clothes were over. Instead, she wore loose tops so she could just hold our baby under breastfeeding. Her old training pants were always sprinkled with baby food at the end of the day. As for her hairdo - well. We were too exhausted and claimed our wallet to think about expensive barber visits. But the worst part was: she had no time for me! After a long day at work, I wanted to tell her all about my little fights and triumphs, but we often had barely a few minutes to spare, and one child screamed because it was bad or another tried to dig a finger into the socket. We were completely oblivious to the interesting conversations about books and movies that we always liked to have had: both of us were too tired to read books, and going to the movies was an unthinkable luxury. On some days, mostly after one crisis or another, I wanted to scream: ""I want my house, I want my car, I want my wife, give me back my life!""
It's not all bad
Still, things are