Raising Kids Together
I bolted upright in shock and scanned the space around the bed. Only then did I realize the door was standing open, and I rushed outside.
Until now, even when the kids woke in the night, they would play with me for a little while or sit there half-asleep before drifting off again.
But both of them vanishing like this made my heart drop straight through the floor. Barely able to draw a full breath, I hurried out and heard Reni's voice coming from the playroom.
"Luca, should we go back in now?"
"Yeah."
After that vigorous reply came the clatter of toys, and without even looking I could feel Reni's face crumpling into a pout.
"Why answer and then not move?! If Dad wakes up, we might get in trouble."
I pressed a hand to my chest and let out a long breath.
Hearing their voices, it seemed nothing terrible had happened, so for the moment relief washed through me.
By the faint glow of the mood light I checked the living-room clock—nine-thirty.
I was certain the kids had fallen asleep around nine. How they had woken and escaped in that short span was beyond me. Had I been sleeping that deeply?
I laid a hand over my still-hammering heart and took a deep breath. Then I quietly pressed my ear to the door again.
"...Vroooom!"
Reni was making airplane noises. Looks like any thought of heading back had already flown out of his head, and he was fully absorbed in play.
I clicked the door open, and both kids whipped around to look at me.
"Ah, Dad!"
Reni called out with a flustered face, while Luca grinned bashfully and went right back to his toys.
"..."
Weren't you two supposed to have separation anxiety? Is it okay to sneak out and play behind Dad's back like this?
I said nothing and checked the kids and the room around them. They were fine, not a scratch on them.
How had they managed to turn on the playroom light? Then I spotted the big picture book sitting under the switch.
Ah. So that was it. Big brother Reni had done most of the heavy lifting. If Luca had come out alone, even if he could climb down from the bed with the step stool, he never would have managed to open the door, flip the light, and settle in to play.
Fortunately there were no hazards left in the playroom. The tools I had set aside on one side had already all been moved to the office.
Still, it wasn't as if the kids would wander into the bathroom on their own...
I looked at them once more, then quietly closed the door and headed for the dining table. Crossing my arms on the surface, I buried my face in them.
"..."
Seriously. That just took ten years off my life.
As the relief faded, a sharp wave of exhaustion and irritation crashed over me.
...Ugh, those little troublemakers. Ugh. Ugh!
Somewhere I seemed to remember someone saying that raising two daughters versus two sons was night-and-day different in difficulty. Was this what they meant?
Those pretty little girls in other people's videos never seemed to stage midnight bed escapes and give their parents heart attacks!
I sat there fuming alone for a while, then forced myself to take a deep breath.
...Yeah. I've been under a lot of stress lately.
I kept breathing slowly, trying somehow to settle my heart.
I didn't want to snap at the kids. As they grew, developing independence mattered more than almost anything else.
But sneaking out of the room at night like this was a problem. More than that, the fact that I had slept like a log even after the kids disappeared was the bigger shock.
I was still swallowing down the worry and irritation when the playroom door opened.
Reni quietly walked over and tugged lightly at my pants.
Looking down, I found him standing there with tears welling in his eyes.
Oh no.
"...Dad's not mad."
As if demanding proof, the child stretched out both arms. I lifted the tiny boy, set him on my knee, and went on.
"Dad's really not mad, Reni. I was just so startled my heart was going thump-thump. How do you think Dad felt, waking up and finding you guys gone?"
It was probably only because they had left the door wide open that I had woken at all. Otherwise I might have slept straight through till morning.
And how lucky that they had headed for the playroom. If they had wandered into the kitchen or somewhere else... just thinking about it made me dizzy.
Come morning I would put a fence across the kitchen entrance and make sure to tell Reni not to open it.
"...I'm sorry."
Reni fidgeted with both hands and spoke in a tiny, shrinking voice.
"Okay. Next time you wake up and want to play, you have to wake Dad up, all right?"
"Okay."
I kissed his forehead and hugged him so he wouldn't get too dejected—and that was when Luca came trundling out of the playroom, pushing a little chair with a rattle and walking over like he owned the place.
"Dada."
Coming right up to my feet, the child smiled and reached out to be held too.
"..."
"Dada!"
I stared at Luca for a moment without answering.
Was it even right to discipline a kid who wasn't even one yet? No matter how I explained, he wouldn't understand.
It was already too late to teach him not to sneak out of bed. I should have caught him right there on the spot for Luca to get it.
When I just kept staring blankly without answering while I thought, Luca's lips jutted out, and tears eventually welled up.
Then, before I could even react, he burst into wretched sobs.
"Waaaaah!"
Reni started dripping tears again too.
With the kids crying in surround sound from both sides, my head was ringing. Why are you making Dad want to cry too?
Well, from the kids' perspective they hadn't done anything that terrible, so Dad's overreaction might feel excessive.
...Wait. Doesn't that just leave me as the only one feeling wronged here?
Before things got any worse I stood up, scooped both sons into my arms, and spun around the living room.
"..."
It's been a while since I soothed them like this.
When I thought about it, though, our kids were growing up pretty gently, weren't they?
Both Luca and Reni—I'd far rather they run around freely and cause a little mischief than hold back on what they want while constantly reading my face.
...They're kids, so it can't be helped. In the end I just need to pay a little more attention.
It wasn't even ten yet. Since they had woken from sleep, putting them back down now should be fine.
Starting tomorrow I would need to ramp up their activity levels so they slept soundly at night. As I thought that and patted their backs, both kids had already fallen asleep.
Bedtime had passed, and with the crying on top of it, they would sleep deep.
With a sigh I laid the kids back in bed, and I collapsed into sleep beside them myself.
The next day, at the morning meeting, I handed the staff the video of me bolting awake in shock.
I eyed the employees who were delighting over the "fun video" like it was none of their business, then said,
"From now on, Greg's going to have to take an hour of play duty every day."
Originally I had brought Greg into the company thinking of him as a babysitter substitute. Greg blinked as if recalling that fact.
"Well, I mean. I enjoy playing with the kids too, and it's what I agreed to when I came here, so I don't mind..."
But there was a reason Greg was hedging like this. He was pretty busy now himself.
He had to set up playlists, then squeeze in performing, recording, and mixing in the studio. On top of that he was editing the leftover footage Cassandra passed his way.
Because he learned the work so fast, he could barely leave his desk. At his previous job, getting scolded every day had been part of the routine, but clearly this work suited Greg's temperament.
"Whatever the case, the videos with the highest views and shares so far are still the ones with the kids in them. Content with the kids is important too."
Cassandra said it with a thoughtful expression.
Even if the channel's direction centered on me, our studio wasn't in a position to ignore immediate revenue.
"And managing Jun's condition is important too. For now Greg can watch the kids, and once winter break hits, I'll bring Charlie over to look after them."
"Is that really okay?"
"Of course. If we pay him a few bucks an hour for babysitting, he'll be begging us to let him do it. You know how motivated Charlie is, Jun. Plus, having my kid right there puts my mind at ease too."
I quickly nodded. Charlie always played well with the kids even when we went to and from church, so it seemed like a good idea.
"Okay, then I'll power through until then."
And so, after Reni got home from kindergarten until quitting time, Greg would handle activities to boost the two kids' energy expenditure.
Though I wondered if Greg really needed to "power through."
"Woooooah! Run, baby! Baby's running!"
"Kyaaa!"
"Ahahaha!"
You couldn't tell who was the adult and who were the kids—Greg had the same tireless stamina as the children.
On top of that, Greg's play ideas were brilliant.
When I was with the kids, I always tried to teach them something while we played. Greg, on the other hand, focused purely on play.
The next day Greg came in with a tug-of-war rope from somewhere and sat Reni inside a sturdy cardboard box. Then he pressed the rope firmly into Reni's hands and said,
"Alright, Reni. Hold on tight so you don't let go, okay?"
"Yes!"
And Greg started hauling the box with the child inside across the hallway like a cow pulling a plow.
This game was a massive hit with the kids.
In videos other parents posted, they usually just tied a rope to a cardboard box and did all the work themselves, but Greg had the child hold the rope. That actually put tension through the kids' whole bodies and made it more thrilling—better that way.
Luca, who had been staring hard at his big brother and Greg playing, crawled after them diligently and finally scored a ride in the box.
"Here we go!"
"Giddyup!"
"Auuwa!"
If they kept playing this fun and varied, maybe someday the idea I had originally had when bringing Greg on—"helping the kids act out their imaginations"—would start paying off.
I watched the kids play for a bit, then sat right down at my desk, turned on the computer, and got to work.
If I'd known everyone would like it this much and I'd be this free, I should have handed them over sooner.
After all, raising kids isn't something you do alone—it takes every adult around diving in. That seemed right.
Because Greg took charge of the afternoon hours, I could use that time a little more efficiently.
Having to constantly switch back to the kids no matter what you were doing inevitably scattered your focus.
So I knocked out the tasks I'd been given at speed.
First, I made all sorts of things—pottery, leather goods, this and that—so I could post production videos evenly.
I still hadn't opened the online bookstore, but I read the extra books Evan had sent over, transcribed them or did calligraphy, filmed and edited the videos.
On top of that, twice a week I got up at the crack of dawn to make desserts for delivery to James's cafe, filmed myself making healthy meals every day, and twice a week went to Vanessa for Pilates lessons...
Dropping Reni off and picking him up from kindergarten, taking him to church on weekends...
After two weeks of breathless busyness, it was finally time to put the finishing stamp on one project.
Wrapping up the diet program meant I could ditch the healthy meals, and I could finally stop the twice-a-week lessons with Vanessa where I barely managed my trembling body!
The day of Cassandra's wedding dawned.