Thursday’s child has far to go, so thank God it’s Friday

TODAY is Friday. It has to be because I am so knackered and the reason I know what day I have is thanks to a huge wall chart that adorns our kitchen.

Every morning, I tick the day’s activities, taking down who is collecting who in a notebook under TTDT (Things To Do Today).

FRIDAY:

Child A: piano 5-5.30pm, basketball 6.45-7.45pm.

Child B: Swimming, 4.30-5.30pm and hockey, 5.45-6.45pm.

Child C: Rugby, 4-5pm, physio 5.30-6pm, supervised study, 6.30-8.30pm.

The rest of the week is a haze of soccer training, swimming lessons, study sessions, Gaelic football, drama and dance classes, girl guides and guitar.

The weekends are worse: basketball, rugby, soccer and hockey matches.

Like most parents, I manage the chauffeuring with as much stoicism as I can muster, permanently exhausted but happy for my children’s good health.

I am grateful also because the alternative could well be couch potato kids.

In the beginning: From what I can gather, there are at least three stages to parenthood: infancy to the Terrible Twos, the primary school years and the dreaded Teenage era. There is more to come, I know, but I have enough to be getting on with.

INFANTS: The infant enters your home and causes a sea-change in behaviour for rookie parents. Gone is the last-minute dash to the bistro or pub.

Babies are life changing as well as life enhancing.

When dads get involved in their babies’ lives, the benefits are positive and far-reaching. Studies have repeatedly documented the positive effects of involved fathers. Babies interact differently with their mothers and fathers, who have different parenting styles and different child-rearing skills.

Mum is mostly the primary parent, who nurtures the baby. However, from a month old babies will greet their dads with playful anticipation - even giggles with dads are different from ones shared with mothers.

Beware when the Terrible Twos approach! I learnt on the job, like when Son No 2 went AWOL and was finally found on the garage roof, arms outstretched, singing a nursery rhyme. He was 18 months old.

PRIMARY SCHOOL: The transition can be subtle and some changes catch you unawares. I had grown to cherish the ways of a malleable four-year-old when, all of a sudden, she turned five and I learnt the difference the hard way. Coming home with a Teletubbies birthday cake, I was prepared for squeals of delight, only to be told to return it and come back with a Barbie cake.

The year made a difference in other ways too. A toddler’s party is usually three hours of mayhem.

But five-year-olds are different. All the guests were models of decorum, grace and manners and I didn’t know if I would get used to such good behaviour.

TERRIBLE TEENS: I need not have worried. Her older brother more than made up for it as the mother of all teenagers sort of teenager. In a few short months, his €100 runners were uncool and consigned to the bin and the new Reebok jacket was “forgotten” on the school tour.

I know, down the road, there will be demands for more ‘hang time’ with pals. Then he will insist on dragging his grotty, ripped, oversized jeans along to the kind of clubs Mike Tyson would run from.

I have thought of putting my foot down but I have a sneaking suspicion some of the unruly behaviour is vaguely familiar. My brain isn’t so addled that I can’t recall being a teenager.

But fatherhood means responsibility and no teenager wants a cool dad.

So, back to the chart to see what delights next week brings. I hope it will be worth it and when the kids are grown up and rich, they will keep their dad in the comfort he deserves.

Yeah, right.