Standing tall, wincing just a bit

Kids and parents are a bad match. Kids are quick and parents have aching knees and backs. Kids leave toys and trash all over the house and parents involuntarily groan anytime they bend over.

And, let’s face it, kids don’t care, while parents can’t worry care enough.

Last week, 3B left two teeth under his pillow on separate nights–bottom eye teeth, for those of you keeping score at home–while I think I lost a part of a tooth at some point. How does that even happen? Parts are falling off my body and I’m too old to even know when or where they go. I’m starting every day now by counting my fingers and toes, just to be sure.

Meanwhile, Jewel has been developing her flying tackle and knocks me ass over teakettle daily. For months, she’s greeted me by running headlong, chortling, into my arms, and over time she’s learned that with little effort she can lay me flat out. To be fair to me, I am squatting to greet her, usually off balance with my work bag slung over one shoulder, slick-soled work shoes under me, and hands full of sunglasses, hat or headphones…or all three. But still, I’ve become her tackling dummy, and now she plants and launches from a foot away, lowering her shoulder, getting under my pads, wrapping me up and driving me into the turf.

I half expect to see her waiting for me in a three-point stance every evening.

When asked for advice by prospective parents, I’ve long said the first thing to do is have your knees and back examined, but now I’m going to give out mouthguards at baby showers.

No wonder I groan when I bend over. Hell, I’m lucky I can stand up straight.