Living in the Barlow Center = Prep for parenting

I believe living in the Barlow Center has been part of Ben and my preparation for parenting. I know I've already mentioned the 18 guys who live on our floor, the perpetually messy kitchen, and the lack of privacy due to our room being right by the common room. Sounds like being a parent, right? But what all you parents out there are saying is, "You still have to get woken up in the middle of the night. Then you'll have a taste of parenting!" Well I'm here to tell you, if that's what it takes to know parenting, I'm ready to be the mother to 18 boys.

That's right, Ben and I have had our fair share of wake-ups while living here. Just a few weeks ago, we both were awakened at 4:30 am to loud laughing and talking in the common room. I thought "Who in the world is awake? Tomorrow they have class!" I couldn't fall back asleep so I threw on some clothes and kindly asked the 2 guys who were typing a paper due the next day to "keep it down". They felt really bad, and both apologized the next day. And I felt bad I'd made them feel bad, but come on... did I sign up for this?

Then a few weeks later I was exhausted after working a 12 hour shift until 7pm. It took me an hour on public transport to get home, and after talking with Ben for a bit I fell promptly asleep. I had to be up at 5am again for another 12 hour shift, but my wonderful dreams were interrupted about 2:30am when I heard a knock on our door. I wanted to ignore it but it came again. So I threw on some clothes and opened the door to find one of the guys telling me (I am not making this up) that he had a temperature of 110 degrees and he didn't know what to do. I explained that it is impossible to live with a temperature of 110 degrees, and he later mentioned the second temperature he took was 99.8. Gees. Anyway, I gave him Tylenol and Motrin and went back to bed. I thought he'd thank me for saving his life, however the next day he informed me that the medicine wasn't working and he was going to the doctor. Good thing I was around...

And last but not least, this past Saturday Ben and I didn't feel well and decided to go to bed early. At about 11pm Ben was sawing logs but I was still trying to fall asleep. Then a knock came. I refused to answer it. The knocker gave up after one attempt but persisted elsewhere. Ben's phone soon after vibrated with a text, which Ben read to me the next day. It was from the same 110 fever kid and read (once again, I am not making this up) "Is Athena awake? Janie has something poking out of her neck." I was flabbergasted, but ignored the issue completely and guess what, everyone lived.

So if nothing else, thank you for letting me rant about the difficulties of raising eighteen 20-something boys. I'm sure all you parents can empathize. And if you have any tips about how to control the aforementioned behaviors, I'd love to hear them. I'll be sure to include them in the parenting book I'm writing about my experiences here.