Milestones and Meltdowns

I love being a Dad. I know that sometimes I can come off sounding like it is one big pain in the butt, which it can be, but for the most part being a Dad is the greatest job in the world and here’s a few reasons why:
1. Milestones: I get to see all of them and they are cool. Reagan has been able to turn over for like three weeks now. She is going to be crawling by August. Reagan has also joined the rest of the family and is eating cereal now. I started giving her some cereal mixed with formula last week and she has really taken to it. The girl likes to eat.
2. Being Protector: We just had a big thunderstorm blow through here, complete with lots of lighting and loud thunder claps and windblown rain. Tiernan is afraid of thunder. It gives you a great feeling when you toddler comes running to you when he or she is afraid. Reagan slept right through the storm by the way.
3. Being Missed: There was a rare occurrence this week, when three of my grade school buddies and I were able to get together for a few drinks at the hometown watering hole. It was great to get together with guys I’ve known since I was 10 for a few hours. After about an hour of sitting at the bar BSing with the boys, my cell phone rings. Its Tiernan obviously crying, “Da-di. Where …you?” Jean informs me that he has been in meltdown mode since I left. I assure him that I am fine and I will be home shortly. Then 35 minutes later, the phone rings again. Tiernan is crying more violently this time, “Da-(sniff)di, where (sob, sniff) you?”
  I turn to my buddies, “Guys, I gotta go. My son misses me.” So, I race home to comfort the little tyke, full of pride that the little guy misses me. Of course, once I get home, I discover that he fell asleep right after I got off the phone with him. I could have stayed at the bar and he’d never known the difference. The sacrifices we make for our kids.
4. Greetings: Once you are a parent, you are almost assured of getting a great greeting when you walk in the door after being away for awhile. I love the greetings Tiernan gives my wife when she gets home from work. “I’m home,” says Jean as she walks in the door and Tiernan looks at me in delight and surprise and says, “Mommy’s home” and goes running to give her a hug.
   I especially love those greetings when it has been a day like today, when both kids were one nerve away from being placed in the playpen and forced to fight each other to the death for my amusement.
Reagan was inconsolable for most of the afternoon. She would not eat, she would not sleep, she would not shut up. Tiernan wanted to do nothing but eat and drink. Every 5 seconds. “Daddy, cheese, Daddy” or “Daddy, juice. Juice Daddy, Daddy, juice. Ap-bul juice” or “Daddy carrots.” And when the demands were not for snacks or juice it was for a new television show. “Daddy, Caillou. Daddy, Mickey over. Daddy, Bob, no Thomas. No Bob. Daddy, Bob over.”
Plus, he’s doing headstands on the couch and jumping and practicing gymnastics moves, by flinging his legs around dangerously close to his little sister. The afternoon was just a constant barrage of requests for service and admonitions to “sit still for 5 minutes, please!” all the while Reagan is screaming in my ear and I am trying to get dinner ready. At one point, I actually yelled, “Calgon, Take me away!” but it didn’t work. I was ready for my own meltdown.
  Jean walked in and Tiernan ran up and gave her a hug, and she walked over to me sitting on the couch holding Reagan who is yelling and crying and pushing the pacifier away and causing general upheaval, and Jean knew with one look that it had been a long afternoon. I love being a Dad. No really, I love being a Dad.