Vacation

We went on our first two kid roadtrip recently. I had two major realizations during this trip: 1) Texas is just a bunch of small towns separated by a few big cities and 2) parenting is like Texas in that it consists of a few big moments surrounded by thousands of little ones.       

We drove out near College Station to visit my newly expecting sister and brother-in-law (or as I like to call them, the grandbaby monopoly busters). Their little town is a two hour drive away. Which means, in fatherhood road trip time, they're exactly infinity away.

In preparation for the (endless) journey, we tried to plan our departure time to coincide with one of John's post-feeding naps. This is the equivalent to getting a head start when trying to foot race a cheetah. But at least the drive would start in peace. Sort of.

But instead of everything going harmoniously while we packed up to head off and relax, I had a dad reaction.

A dad reaction is kind of like an allergic reaction but only dads get it and instead of sneezing or hives the symptoms that manifest are grumpiness, audible anger, and general disagreeableness. Dad reactions are most frequently observed in fathers paying bills, attempting DIY projects, and trying to find the TV remote.

However, in my case I had a dad reaction to preparing for vacation. The irony of this doesn't escape me but nonetheless there I was being a bear as we loaded up to go have fun. When I was a kid, my family (all seven of us) would make a nine hour drive every summer to go on vacation. Perhaps dad reactions are hereditary. And one thing my dad always had that seemed to combat this was good road trip music.

Now, I didn't appreciate it as good at the time, but the years of listening to Marty Robins, Peter, Paul & Mary, Johnny Cash, Simon and Garfunkel, and Jim Croce eventually wore down my modern pop sensibilities. Road Trips just seem lacking without them now. I, of course, forgot to bring any music for the drive over. However it went smoothly.

It was the drive back that didn't. We hadn't driven 30 miles before having to pull over because John was screaming. Eli was whining because he was tired and the stress was building.

The dad reaction I neglected to mention before is the one that settles in on the return from vacation. I guess it's because the weight of returning to reality seems to get heavier with every mile, but couple that with the crying kids and it was the perfect storm of irritability.

We were able to get on the road again, although John continued to break out crying from time to time. And then something wonderful happened. We were about halfway through the drive home and the sun had just slipped under a blanket of trees on the horizon. We were in that blissful transition of tranquility between John crying and John crying again so in addition to seeing the green gIow of the radio display, I could actually hear the music.

It was a station playing nothing but the hits from my dad's roadtrip cassettes. As we cruised through Dime Box, Texas Jim Croce tried to save time in a bottle and I realized this was one of the moments that I usually overlook as a dad. I'm so busy looking forward to the "big cities" that are first words and first bikes and first Little League games, that I drive right by these little moments.

There I was with my family safely sleeping in the car coming back from a great vacation, while the radio is serenading me with a soundtrack reminding me that these moments are as fleeting as everyone says they are.

That's not to say both the boys didn't wake up screaming before we got home (they did) or that I didn't grind my teeth and pretend all I could hear was the sound of a post trip beer being popped open (I did). But that's not what I'm going to remember from that trip.

I'm going to remember this road trip as the one that made me realize there are a lot of great times to be thankful for in between the crying (maybe even during the crying). And it's the good times and the little moments I'm going to look back on in the future, so why not pay attention to them now?

Either that or that beer is the cure for dad reactions.