Reflecting on nearly 2 years of being a stay-at-home dad most of the time, preaching has forced me to ponder my relationship with my 2-year old. I am closer to going back to work than I am to being at home. I told my dear wife and mother how much I'll miss this little girl. The responses:
Dear Wife: I think you'll miss her. She'll miss you. But you'll miss her more. Any day care situation is going to be like a party to her. You won't be so lucky.
Mother: Well, yeah--she's been in your hip pocket for 2 years.
What little time she has spent in day care, those places are more of a novelty than a routine, so she dives right in with a smile, yet is thrilled when I pick her up. Most likely, she'll only need three days of care per week. So there's still hip pocket time. I think she'll be able to keep up her average of 50 conversation starters "Hey Daddy!" per day. My line of work leaves me to long periods of pondering (much like Mother Mary), in which I will feel melancholy about the lessening the simple, joyful rhythms of home life. We just returned from walking to the Post Office and the park. It took me a few months to deeply savor these moments, and now I find meaning in what appears to be the mundane. I honestly didn't believe I had it in me.