What I miss as a dad separated from his family

Do you know what the best thing about being away from your family is?

Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

At first, the idea of some peace and quiet was nice. A stay-cation of sorts. I could be on my own schedule, and watch what I wanted on TV. No more Yo Gabba Gabba for this dad. I could eat peanut butter straight out of the jar. I didn't have to wake up in the middle of the night for anything. I could let the dishes sit in the sink. There was no one to tell me what to do. This was all pretty cool.

For like an hour.

After that, I started craving things like a little girl running into the room with her blanket to climb up and snuggle on the couch with me. I crave giggles, smiles, laughs, coos, and yes, even crying. I crave my old routine. I crave reading the same book three times in a row before bed. I crave Goodnight Moon and goodnight kisses. I crave hugs. I crave little babies sleeping in my arms. I crave changing diapers. Well, lets be honest, maybe not that. I could do without changing diapers. But I crave those little ones that make such big messes. I crave hearing battery-operated children's toys that sing the ABC's and count to ten in Spanish. I crave talking to my wife face to face. I crave holding her hand. I crave seeing her when I walk in the door coming home from work. I crave having her close at night. I crave her poking me awake to go rock our son back to sleep. I crave giving her sleepy head a goodbye kiss in the morning. I crave leftovers for lunch.

I crave what I'm missing.

On my way to work I got a call from The Wife and Grace. Our almost two-year-old was excited to tell me that she "went pee pee in the potty." This was a first. I, of course, want to be there for that. Or at least hear about it in person. But, that's obviously not possible. I can't stop time. I can't tell Grace to stay little until I get back. I can't tell Timothy to not crawl and walk until I can cheer him on. I have to encourage them and cheer them on over the phone or through the computer.

Those video chats we do regularly keep me smiling. My daughter is learning quickly how to interact with me over the computer. We laugh and giggle and act silly just like if we were together. She couldn't wait to show me how she does the Hokey Pokey. Timothy is learning how to wave and clap. It's all fun to watch, and those chats are the highlight of my day.

But of course, there are dinners to make, baths to be had, and bedtime for little ones. The call has to end at some point. And when it does, our now empty house is once again quiet. And I go back to eating peanut butter straight from the jar.

Dadalogue on the Road: Day 3

The kids finally snapped. I was hoping we'd have perfect little angels the whole way, but keeping them cooped up in car seats has finally done them in. Grace showed her ugly side - throwing a tantrum in McDonald's for lunch and a mini tantrum at the restaurant we ate at for dinner. We were that family today.

I know it's probably not as big of a deal as I'm making it out to be. As my level-headed wife points out, we'll never see those people again, our kids are weary from traveling, and they were nice enough to take a credit card to pay for all the damages.

Okay, I'm kidding on that last part. There were no damages, except for maybe my pride. I just want my two-year-old to instinctively understand how to behave in public. Pshaw to actually teaching her these things. My lack of tolerance for her behavior probably mostly stems from my exhaustion of being on the road and not so much on her actual actions.

In the minivan, things weren't much better than they were in the restaurants. Sure, the two little ones were restrained, but their crying in stereo was the perfect accompaniment to the rain from downpour I drove through the entire day. All 560 miles was done with my wipers whipping. The Wife, amazing as usual, sat in the cramped micro-seat between the two little ones - holding a teether for Timothy with one hand while reading a book to Grace with the other. She handled the situation and got me a few hours of quiet so I could concentrate on the road.

The only bright side of the day was that at least the rain wasn't the blizzard I was trying to out-drive. We left at 6:30 this morning so we wouldn't get stuck in this. We got several calls of concern wondering if we were some of those stranded motorists.

No. We're fine. I don't even think I could fathom what being stranded with Jekyll and Hyde would be like.

But, after a long day on the road, we're safely in a comfortable hotel room. Timothy is finally sleeping. He seems to be recovering well from the day's travels. For Grace, however, the night is young. She's free from her restraints. It may be 10 o'clock, but like a college freshman, that's when the night begins. It's time to party!

Pray for patience for the parents.

Mini-traditions

I think one of my favorite things about being a dad is being able to create and do special mini-traditions and routines with the kids.

For instance my daughter can't go to bed without "show." That's where I swing her back and forth and then into her crib while saying "One for the money. Two for the show. Three to get ready. And four to go!" My dad did it do me as a kid, but beyond that, I don't know any one else who does.

And that's what I love about it. It's unique, it's personal, and it's a moment that guarantees a smile from both of us - no matter how the rest of day went. I also think that moments like "show" are a part of shaping our kid's personalities. We like to have fun around here, and anywhere we can interject an element of fun, we do!

Timothy likes when I lift him up over my head and say hi to him. He laughs and smiles at "Pat-a-Cake" every time. Each round of "Ring around the Rosie" always ends with tickling on the floor. Fist bumps follow high-fives. When football comes on TV, we all throw are hands up in the air and yell "Touchdown!" But my favorite routine, and it's fairly new, is prayers before bed time.

Grace will sit in my lap and fold her little hands and bow her head while we pray. I say the prayer (for now) but she always ends with the "Amen." It's so cute it melts my heart every time.

Sleepy time

If I had to rank which dad jobs are my favorite, near the top of my list would be nighttime reader/tucker-inner.

As Timothy gets older, I'm sure he'll be a part of my nightly routine, but right now it's a wonderful bonding time with my daughter. She loves her sleep, but she also loves the build up to when she gets to close her eyes.

Once she's in her pajamas we sit in the chair in her room. After snuggling in with me, she clutches on to her favorite blanket with one hand, grabs an end with another, and sticks her thumb in her mouth. (And, yes, I know thumb sucking is bad, it'll make her teeth crooked, blah, blah, blah. We all have our vices, we go easy on her on this one.) I ask her what book she wants to read, which begins the process of deciphering what she wants. There's a code:

"Mooooon" - Goodnight Moon by Margaret Wise Brown
"Aaa Bee Cee's" - Max's ABC's by Rosemary Wells
"Much" - Guess How Much I Love You by Sam McBratney
"Manger" - An illustrated board book of Away in the Manger
"Pookie" - Night, Night Little Pookie by Sandra Boynton
"Time" - Pajama Time! by Sandra Boynton
"Mickey" - On the Go with Mickey Mouse by Disney
"Boom" - Mr. Brown's Book of Wonderful Noises by Dr. Seuss

Thankfully, I've mastered the code. It took me awhile, but after trial and error and her improving speech, I can tell what she wants. Heaven forbid you pull the wrong book out of the basket. There's no fooling Grace. If she says "Much" and I pull out "Moon," she will shove the garbage that is "Moon" away and repeat "Much, much, much, much, much" until she gets to hear the tale of Big Nutbrown Hare and Little Nutbrown Hare.  Once I'm finished, she'll say "one mooore," while holding up a finger. That one usually is "Moon." How quickly she forgets.

But we don't just read two books, Daddy's nighttime routine includes THREE classic tales. Recently, number three has been "Mickey."

But no matter the book, the cutest thing about reading to her is that she knows the stories by heart. If I leave the last word off a sentence, she'll finish it. Doesn't matter what book or what sentence. She'll make all the noises along with Dr. Seuss's Mr. Brown. It's fun to watch.

After books, comes night-night kisses where she insists on pointing out, naming, and kissing my nose, eyes, hair, ears, mouth, and mole (I know that last one is weird, and I'm not sure why she picked up on it). Then it's "one for the money, two for the show, three to get ready, and four to go!" as I swing her into her crib. I hand her her stuffed bear, and cover her with her blanket. I give her one final peck on the forehead and say "Night nights Grace. Sleep tight. I love you."

As I walk away, turn out the light and start closing the door, I'll usually hear back "Night nights Daddy. Vuvv ooh." And that makes my day.