Thirty- something speaks
The only one getting tired is me
Mike Maddock

I recently reached another important milestone in the parenting process. I can no longer wear my children out. In other words, I cannot subject them to enough physical exercise to cause them to be more tired than I. There was a time not long ago when all it took was skipping a nap, but now no amount of time in the pool or on a bike or in the surf can take them down. Believe me, I've tried.

My efforts used to give my wife and me extra husband and wife time. We could order take- out and watch a movie while my little, tired kids snored away. Now, all my efforts do is raise parental involvement expectations and give me sore muscles.

Last Saturday is a good example of this new predicament. I took my kids on a three- hour mountain biking trip, and, unfortunately, all that trip earned me was some pretty intense back pain. My kids were asking to play outside afterwards and planning how "Daddy" was now going to take them biking every weekend.

While I had fully intended our little excursion to be a new and exciting adventure with some family togetherness, I had also planned on having three kids unable to keep their little eyes open before the sun went down.

It turned out the only one going to bed early was me. I woke up the next day hardly able to stand up straight, but my kids were bouncing off the walls ready to go to the pool.

I'm not sure if it's because I'm getting older or they're getting older, but I do know their bedtime seems to be getting later and later, and mine seems to be getting earlier and earlier. At night, I used to have three to four solid hours of kidless awake time. Now I'm lucky to have one. Things are likely to normalize a little bit when school starts back up, but the trend is heading towards a day very soon when my kids will be tucking me into bed and not the other way around.

Pretty soon, my little angels may figure out they can wear me out. They'll take me on bike rides and let me do backstrokes in the pool. They won't let me fall asleep watching golf on the couch, and they'll give me warm milk and turkey for dinner, and they'll hide the Mountain Dew and Exedrin. Before long, I'll be the one snoring away at night while they get take- out and watch movies.

When my oldest was two, all it took was a warm bottle of Similac to end her night. Now she's ten, and I'm considering bringing back the bottle because I'm running out of options. I think my eight- year- old daughter may just be moonlighting as a battery selling pink bunny with a drum. I've given up trying to tire her out. It's just too painful for me. There's some hope for my five- year- old son but not much. I can still wear him out, but his sisters often weaken and disrupt my efforts.

I'd like to come up with a solution to this problem, but I'm just too tired. Maybe a little nap will make things better; just don't tell my kids.