Life’s Balancing Act

Every morning at six a.m. I am awakened, not by the blare of an alarm but by the soft pitter-patter of little feet making their way to my bed. As an eyelash tickles my cheek, two startlingly bright blue eyes peer into mine, almost as if questioning whether it’s time to rise and shine.

These are the moments that make up the beautiful mess that is balancing family life. It can be a challenging act, just like a tightrope walker delicately navigating a high wire. But, in turn, it is one of the most rewarding acts one can endeavor to perform.

At breakfast time, the drama unfolds. On one side there are two little ones, my daughters Andy and Penny, twins with exuberant brown curls bouncing as they chortle and squabble over who gets the pink cereal bowl. On the other, there is the ever-so-early morning conference call waiting to devour my attention. Then there is my wife, Lily, who just like every day, springs effortlessly into action; settling squabbles, flipping pancakes, and reminding me not to miss my first meeting of the day.

Getting all four of us put together and out the door has the chaotic symmetry of a dance. Shoelaces get tied and untied. Backpacks are packed, unpacked, and then repacked because a favorite toy was transferred from the bedside table to a school bag. And there is my rushed attempt to switch gears from dad-mode to employee-mode as I grab my briefcase.

The balancing act is as humbling as it is invigorating. Just when I think I have mastered the choreography, there’s a surprise costume change, a different music cue, or an unexpected prop throw. Yet amid these pop-up challenges, there are insurmountable joys. A toothy smile. A shared joke at the dinner table. A bedtime story with Andy and Penny tucked in close.

Quiet nights, when the little ones are tucked away and work is done for the day, become our sanctuary. Lily and I find new depths of conversation or dissipate into soft laughter, reminding us why we are in this dance together.

Each day teeters between order and disorder, but it is in embracing this paradox that I am learning to be a better father, a better husband, and better at my job. The act of balancing is not in maintaining perfect stability, but in the joyous endeavour of picking up the fallen juggling balls and starting again. I’ve learned that it is okay to stumble and to even spend some moments seated on the tightrope.

As I tuck Andy and Penny into bed at night, listening to their soft sighs of sleepy contentment, I am reminded of the beauty of this balancing act. In each moment – the chaotic, the serene, the frustrating, and the funny – we are creating a life full of memories, laughter, growth, and love. Every day and every slight imbalance makes me more profoundly grateful for this family and our shared life journey.

Riding on the high wire of family life may not always be smooth and could often be a trial of patience and strength. But one truth stands out in the balancing of priorities and responsibilities, the bonds we build in the process, make life worth living. The dance, the play, the laughter; this is the true essence of life’s balancing act.