KYLE TROUTMAN
As I left the office at about 4:50 p.m. Monday, a bright, orange haze had set in from the west following an afternoon of rainstorms.
Thinking the scene was peculiar and a bit ominous, I stared at it as I walked to my car and got in the driver’s seat. I started the car and looked up, facing south, and the haze made sense.
A massive, full-spectrum double rainbow was glistening before my eyes, seemingly so close you could drive a few blocks to maybe find that fabled pot of gold.
I wasn’t the only one who noticed. As I got out to take a couple of photos, a woman behind me had pulled over to do the same, much to her husband’s chagrin, she said.
As I drove to pick up my 3-year-old from daycare at the last minute, multiple people had taken to the streets to take in the light show.
When I picked my daughter up, I carried her into view of the arc and we just stared for a minute — “So beautiful,” she said.
Loyal readers will know my wife, Jordan, and I have two children, the 3-year-old ball of fire with a Sly Stallone smile and the longest eyelashes you’ve ever seen, and the 9-year-old fourth-grader with as vivid an imagination as the aforementioned rainbow and a set of facial expressions to fit any situation.
Many of you are raising children or have raised children, and I’m antsy to know what the latter is like. I sometimes look at our house, our habits, our parenting style and our quality of life and think, are we doing enough?
Invariably, I end up talking to other parents and conclude we are doing enough, or at the very least, doing the best we can.
Having two daughters and the age split between them contributes to a major thread in our lives — chaos.
We deliberate day in and day out how to manage it. Does this battle need to be fought? Can she do that without hurting herself? Do we need to have a sit-down talk about such-and-such ongoing situation?
Here’s an example. About two months ago, the toddler, who can now open the fridge and most doors, found our long-ignored stash of freeze pops in the freezer — about 100 of them.
What started as an innocent allowing of a popsicle for a snack turned into a four-a-day habit at breakfast, twice for snacks, and again for dessert. Saying no to a popsicle request meant an on-the-spot meltdown, a battle we picked very rarely.
When we did, the universe always seemed to make it at the same time we were battling the 9-year-old to complete a chore without rolling her eyes out of her head and putting on her sour face. Apparently, being asked to empty the dishwasher is equivalent to Medieval torture, or so she would have me believe.
Some of our most trying times have been standing in the kitchen with a screaming baby and a hostile fourth-grader.
The anxiety of those situations is as peculiar and ominous as the hazy orange cloud west of town on Monday.
Yet, through the fog, the beauty is revealed.
After their ways are not had and the tantrums are over, a rainbow of joy arcs over our day. It’s almost routine.
Between playing with Lincoln Logs and repeat renditions of the ABCs — or the latest favorite, “Finger Family” — the girls are chasing one another through the house on tricycles, playing grocery store or still learning the ins and outs of Hide and Seek. The youngest still can’t contain her giggling no matter where she’s hiding.
Last night, the dynamic duo went from the oldest reading the youngest a book to a session of Wrestlemania where the youngest not only made a textbook football tackle, she put her elder sister in a headlock that took a good 20-30 seconds to escape.
Parenting is not always tulips and roses. Sometimes, we get into the weeds. As we try our hardest to raise strong, thoughtful, intelligent, perceptive and graceful daughters, we realize that development comes in all colors.
Like Monday’s double rainbow, it’s a beautiful thing to see.
Kyle Troutman has served as editor of the Cassville Democrat since 2014 and owner/publisher since 2023. He was named William E. James/Missouri Outstanding Young Journalist for daily newspapers in 2017, and he is a two-time ISWNE Golden Dozen award winner. He may be reached at 417 847-2610 or ktroutman@cassville-democrat.com.
“Apparently, being asked to empty the dishwasher is equivalent to Medieval torture, or so she would have me believe.”
