the other parent

Every family has a fun, bend-over-backwards-for-whatever-the-kids-want parent.  In the Zarcone household, I am the "other" parent.  I am basically the "bad cop."  I am the one who has to tell people to get out of bed, to turn off the tv (or other digital media), to do their homework, or to stop doing anything fun that has the potential for bodily injury.  

Tom, on the other hand, is Mr. Fun Dad.  He hangs intently on every word that the children say - who has time for that?  Tell me what I need to know and move on!  I have shit to do.  Tom also gets to be a spectator for anything that involves praise and clapping for a kiddo - be it for someone who has mastered a new song on an instrument, perfecting a gymnastics move, or creating a new poem.  I, on the other hand, get to experience the "process" and the frustrations that come with that process.

But, Tom's biggest indulgence to the whims of the children involve anything having to do with avoiding a meltdown when they are tired.  He is a world class bucking bronco and provides infinite rides from the dinner table or couch to their bedrooms so they don't have to struggle on those last 12 steps to their bedrooms.  He will also carry them just about anywhere, because apparently their legs stop working in his presence.  

I am, however, always impressed with the kids' ability to "charge on" when Tom isn't around.  As many of you know, Tom headed back across the pond this morning.  So, no better way to distract ourselves from missing our main man than to trudge out into the city.  This afternoon I really tested the limits of the kids and ran them into the ground.

Today is one of the first days that really feels like summer here in Florence.  So, the kids were begging to go to the pool after linner (if you don't know what linner is, read the blog post from a few days ago).  Well, I had done my research and came to Florence knowing the location of two pools.  But, I was a little weary about getting the kids all excited and then having things not work out.  Our waitress from linner had warned us that the pool was at least a half hour hike from our flat, but any good "other parent" knows that wasting time and tuckering the kids out is the best recipe for a summer day.  

So, we left our flat with bathing suits on, towels in tow, and high expectations for a refreshing swim.  The one great thing going for Florence is that it is flat.  But, the waitress wasn't kidding about the trek - it was a good two miles to the pool and my people were hot.  We made a game of trying to stay in the shade to try to fool ourselves into thinking that the temperature wasn't sweltering.  Scarlett was, however, suffering from the misconception that I had been to this pool before, so I should 1) know exactly where I was going and 2) we should have been there by now.  

We figured we were getting close to the pool when we kept seeing 18 year olds in bathing suits.  I was honestly thinking to myself that it must be nice to be a teenager in Italy because apparently no one has a summer job when they are a high schooler.  Another dead giveaway that we were getting close  was the pulsating music.  Now, that actually got us fairly pumped because everyone knows that the Zarcone ladies LOVE a dance party.  When we finally found the entrance gate, we were greeted by Alessandro (the pool manager).  Alessandro looked quite nervous about the scene to which I was preparing to expose the kids.  He insisted that we take a look before we paid the entrance fee.  As he nervously walked us toward a vantage point of the pool, I half expected to see something akin to a Playboy Mansion pool party complete with orgy.  I was pleasantly surprised that all of the 18 year olds still had their suits on, but the grotto was packed!  

So, expecting to be greeted by tears and meltdowns, I had to be the "other parent" and explain to the kids that today wasn't the best day to take a plunge in the pool.  Alessandro assured me that this was the first time this event had ever taken place (he was pretty clear it was the last time too), and he pleaded with me to bring the kids back tomorrow for an appropriate swim.  As we started the long, hot slog back to our flat, the kids were incredible troopers.  The only mild complaint received was when Scarlett took a face-plant and scraped her knee from running with clogs on uneven terrain.  After a few choked back tears, she tucked her pouty lip back in and put on her "I can do this mommy" face and kept on walking, never asking to be carried.  

Today wasn't a rainbows and butterflies kind of day.  It was the kind of day that we "other parents" use to build character in our kids.  These are the days that we show them life is hard and there isn't an instant reward at the end of every task.  But, our kids rise to the occasion.  They also use these days to demonstrate to us "other parents" that they are learning the not so glamorous life lessons and don't always need to be carried along the easy road.