Touch of Spice

The energy crisis



Daily Press writer

I read recently that youth isn't wasted on the young, the young waste youth. While I know I'll agree with that sentiment someday, right now I find it hard to fathom. My two little ones don't seem to waste a minute.

And I'm not sure I can keep up.

Someone, I'm not sure who, taught Katie how adults can be contorted into swings. I thought it was great fun -- at first. As my arms and my legs started to give, I put a stop to the momma-as-playground-equipment time. Unfortunately, Katie wasn't as ready to quit.

Thus the beginning of a tantrum.

Nikki is a bit more subtle in her demands for attention that requires physical effort. Daddy sets her on his legs while he lies on his back and bounces her up and down. It ends with him flipping her over his head and onto her feet. It makes her laugh and there's not much you won't continue doing when a child starts laughing.

It looked like great fun.

It looked easy.

I waited until he was gone (I didn't want him to know I was stealing his idea) and flipped her over until my stomach couldn't take it anymore.

She didn't protest. She just walked around my prone form and loaded herself back up again.

How can you resist?

Well, a seizure will do it.

I finally had to leave the room to get a well-deserved (if I do say so myself) break.

The problem was that Katie can't just sit back and watch her sister having all the fun, so I was required to share what little I had left with her.

My other option was to just let her bounce up and down on my stomach.

After awhile I didn't even mind that. At least it didn't require any effort on my part. Well, it didn't require any effort other than what it took to protect my internal organs.

If it wasn't for nap time, I'd never survive parenthood.

The amount of energy children have seems limitless. This I discovered as Nikki was chasing Katie in circles, hissing at her, at midnight.

They usually stick pretty close to their 9 p.m. bedtime, but there are times when that energy gets the better of them.

And, at 7 a.m., my two little alarm clocks were wide awake.

Sometimes earlier.

I heard Katie calling me in my dreams. When I surfaced, it was to open my eyes to see her smiling face -- 4 a.m. -- and her big eyes were inches from mine. If she would have asked to swing, I would've died right there. She had that look, too.

Fortunately, she only needed a drink. She only needed one more that night and another at the crack of dawn.

They make me long for summer more than I ever have. Long days of running outside to their heart's content and hours of using a real swing set.

It just might get my arms off the hook.

Then again, there are always rainy days and nights.

I'll never make it.

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