Very few people in life get to be real rock stars. I am one of those people. No, I don’t sing to adoring crowds on a stage, nor do I have any sort of record deal in the works. While I might pick a little guitar (barely), Gibson isn’t signing me up for any endorsement deals anytime soon. But I am no less a rock star, or at least that’s what my wife calls me (I’m not so sure she means it as a good thing but hey, it is what it is…).
You see, Kim is the one who takes the kids to school, makes sure they get to their different classes, picks them up after class, keeps them in her classroom until she is finished, loads them up, brings them home, unloads them, makes sure they do their chores, practice their piano, clean their rooms, and don’t kill each other (not to mention starting dinner) – all before I get home. Me? Well, while I do help her and the kids get ready in the mornings, I don’t see any of them until I nonchalantly pull in the garage between 5 and 5:30.
For me, that’s where the celebrity begins. Our kids are at such fun ages (7, 5, 3, 1), ages where they aren’t ashamed to make big over Daddy (or Mommy for that matter, but in this article I’m the rock star :>) ). I pull in the garage, get out of the car, and barely make it up the steps before the welcoming committee greets me at the door with fanfare that would make Bon Jovi say ‘hey, calm it down a bit guys – I’m just a man.’
I arrive to screams of ‘Daddy, Daddy, Daddy.’ They run up and hug my leg and beg for me to pick them up. I pick one up, then another, then another, then Grace waddles over (now she’s good at yelling ‘Daddy’ too) and I pick her up as well (except Grace doesn’t want to be put down once I’ve picked her up, so that process can take some time). The girls yell for ‘kisses’, and ‘hugs hugs hugs,’ and Nathaniel wants a high (or low) five or two. In the middle of all this, Kim is usually standing in the kitchen shaking her head, with a smile on her face.
In all reality, I don’t deserve it – at least I don’t feel like I do. I do my best to be a good Dad to them, but Kim is the unsung hero, the real rock star in our family. She’s the glue that holds everything together, makes it all work as well as it does. The very fact that she lets me take center stage, the fact that Daddy, flawed as he is, shines so bright in the eyes of his kids, is testament to the kind of helpmeet God has blessed me with.
Fame always fades. I know I won’t be a rock star forever. In a few years I suspect I’ll go from knowing everything to knowing nothing at all. I’ll go from hero to zero… well… hopefully my star won’t fall that far, but yes, it inevitably will fall – so you better believe I’m gonna enjoy my 5-minutes of fame for as long as I can!