With rare exception, like if you are a nurse in a maternity ward, there’s nothing in the job description for a leader that involves changing poopy diapers.
Metaphorically speaking, we might find ourselves cleaning up someone else’s … well, let’s just say “mess.” But that’s not the same thing as dealing with the backend of a nine-month-old who filled up during lunch on pureed green peas or squash.
Not long ago, my wife and I had the honor, privilege, and horror of non-stop diaper duty, and not just for a few hours. Our daughter asked us to watch our two precious grandchildren, two-and-a-half-year-old Harper and nine-month-old Henry, while she and her husband went to New York for a wedding. So, from noon on a Thursday until 2 p.m. on a Sunday, Sue and I, aka Nana and Pappy, were back in full-time parent mode.
We were given seven months of notice, mind you, but I’m still not sure I was ready for the assignment. Don’t get me wrong. The kids were a lot of fun, but it was a ton of work! I was reminded why God arranged it so that young people have kids! They might lack the wisdom that comes with age, but they have more energy for the non-stop circus known as child rearing!
In the midst of it all, I was also reminded of the parallels between leading teams in the chaos of modern business and taking care of small children. To wit:
If you can prepare for it, then be prepared.
Our home is no longer designed and decorated for extended stays with children. So, we prepped by doing things like putting the breakables on high shelves and identifying the uncovered electrical outlets so we could keep the kids clear of them.
Patience isn’t just a virtue, it’s a necessity.
When you are in charge of your grandchildren, your world quickly spins out of control. Whatever you want them to do, I guarantee you it is different from what they want to do. Henry, for instance, didn’t want me to feed him. He wanted to feed himself, which would be all well in good if he actually put the food in his mouth not on his face or on the floor!
Priorities were made to be juggled.
The to-do list doesn’t sit quietly awaiting your attention like a journal when you’re on a meditation retreat. No, it screams at you to do this, that, and something else, all at the same time. There were times, for instance, when I was tasked with something like cleaning bottles but sweet-faced Harper had other plans for me. “Pappy, run around the house with me! Let’s run upstairs!”
The tyranny of the urgent is tyrannical.
When you babysit for a few hours, there’s a back-of-the-mind comfort in knowing that you can enjoy all the good stuff and that it won’t be long before you can hand off the problematic parts. When you babysit for several days in a row, however, you know that, just like in business, today’s problems will still be your problem tomorrow. Better to deal with them sooner rather than later!
Defense wins championships.
We really had to divide and conquer to keep up with Harper and Henry. Throughout each day, we were constantly communicating about roles and responsibilities and how to defend against the next onslaught of duties. It started when the jibber-jabber first cracked over one of the two monitors in the morning (You fix the bottle, I’ll change the diaper), lasted until we put them down to sleep at night, and was non-stop in between.
Recharged batteries have more power.
It just so happened that my birthday fell on Saturday while we were in charge of the kids. So we hired a relief babysitter and enjoyed a delightful dinner out with our son and his girlfriend. The much-needed break allowed us to catch our breath and reenergize before the final few hours we would have with the kids.
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We enjoyed those final hours, and the next afternoon our daughter arrived to retrieve the children. The trip was great, she told us, adding, “We just wish we would have left on Wednesday so we could have had another day.”
Sue and I looked at each other, silently sharing an “I don’t think so!” moment.
Soon thereafter, a strange silence soaked our surroundings and Sue and I gave each other a high five as we stood in a home that looked like it had been rearranged by a tornado.
“Good job, partner,” I said.
“Good job, partner,” she replied. “Let’s go to sleep.”
And we did. Like a couple of babies.
