Dads have feelings, too

It has come to my attention that my remark about Brian living in the lap of luxury on a diaper-free work trip earlier this week was a bit insensitive, overlooking that the purpose was to work and help support this family.

Although the notion of a private room, a long plane ride to do nothing, and someone bringing me a drink sounds like heaven, I have not actually experienced having to be away from my family overnight.

My husband is in a field that requires him to head out of town a few weeks a year, and work long hours, including some weekends, throughout the rest of the calendar. Gunnar was about six weeks old during his first weeklong sales meeting in the Golden State. Still in the throes of colic and getting the hang of motherhood in general, I struggled. But during that time, my son and I got that much closer to reaching an understanding.

Although I sent Brian picture messages of what we were up to around the clock, they did not prepare him for the reality of missing one seventh of his infant son's life. "He looks totally different," Brian kept saying.


It was true. Gunnar's cheeks had doubled in proportion and he'd gained an expressiveness to his eyes that would become a trademark of his personality.

A year later, Gunnar may not have known what "a few days" meant, but he was acutely aware that Daddy wasn't home for much longer than usual. He toddled around the house, checking to see if his dad had wound up in the toy box or under the couch cushions, but was for the most part adaptable to the situation.

And now, Gunny can--and does--come right out and ask, "Where Daddy go?" with an adorable shrug. Other times, he'll demand "I want Daddy!" and launch into a full-on tantrum. So now Brian's got to wrestle with knowing that the longing is mutual.

That part, I don't envy one bit.