A Week Without the Kids

In something of a heroic gesture Kristen’s family took our kids to the beach for a week. Right before departing, Elliott lost his front tooth. It had resembled a hanging chad for days so I was happy for the development, but I died a little inside. One moment our son had a pretty significant childhood moment and the next we sent him and his sister off for the longest stretch we have ever been apart.

I was nervous about their safety and how long the week would seem but amidst all of that anxiety I had a glimmer of positivity: Tooth fairy detail would be outsourced! I decided that to help other dads cope with the heartache of a week away from the kids I should log a few of the minor bright spots associated with such an occurrence.

Say, for example, your buddy Schulzie asks you for help in cleaning out his garage and tempts you with the fact that he has a dumpster. As alluring as it sounds to unload junk into a dumpster your usual reply is, “Sorry, I’ve got two birthday parties, a soccer game and a scheduled kick to the groin,” but not today. Today you will be chucking stuff with gusto.

Later you might walk over the neighborhood beer garden fundraiser thing with the Huebners to sample, socialize, smile and repeat. When it is over and they are heading home to responsibly tuck their own kids in to bed, you can take your beer gardening elsewhere and meet the Alexanders out in the village. It’s just that simple. In fact, I think it made my wife giggle.

And while everyone’s in a good mood, you might find it worthwhile to explore some of the activities that led to those children in the first place…with nary a worry of midnight wanderers intent on making a crowd in your bed. Just sayin’.

After sleeping in (because understandably, you’re depressed), you might watch a mini-marathon of Love It or List It on HGTV. Note the husband whose primary “must have” was space for his gigantic TV and that he blew the budget renovating a second floor room to accommodate it while changing nothing on the hideous first floor. Pat yourself on the back. You’re more of a catch than that guy. Go to the pool and allow yourself a snicker at the one dad who is getting bonked on the head with a kickboard by his son and the other dad who has run his daughter to the bathroom six times. Really, there is nothing you can do to help. You may contemplate sitting in the “adult swim” section on the far side of the pool where the childless people congregate, but don’t overdo it. Recognize you are only sabbatically cool. Probably best to instead sit in the Switzerland-esque middle area. Then get in the pool and float. Brother, just float.

Rent an excellent indie flick, like the kind you used to devour. I suggest Nebraska with Bruce Dern and Will Forte and the most authentic supporting cast since Napolean Dynamite. Appreciate the deftness in writing, the superlative acting and the subtle humor in a film that has nothing to do with Pixar.

Baffle economists by contributing to a spike in restaurant receipts while babysitters cite woeful earnings. Okay, this might be a stretch. I’m pretty certain that neither babysitters nor restaurants actually report any earnings but…

The gist of this is that while you love your kids dearly and this may or may not have been a difficult week, you love your wife too. There was a time when it was just the two of you, and while not as full and rewarding as the life you now know, it was pretty good and it’s okay to check in with that former self. Don’t worry, your kids will practically hyperventilate detailing their week in full for you but they won’t ask you to do the same.