Latest thoughts on Daddy Duty

Here it is the beginning of the second week of school and Daddy Duty is in full swing. I’ve about got a routine down for myself and the little prince in the mornings, but we’ll see what minor tweaking has to take place on Thursday when Mrs. OGV heads back to work. There are things she does in the morning to help get Austin ready that will shift to me because she will need to get herself ready to head off for the day.

By the end of last week, it was very obvious that Austin was loving school. His grumbly bear impersonation on Monday was the only day he showed that side upon being awakened. Until today. Today is Monday again. Let me think about this a minute. Maybe the dislike for Mondays starts a lot earlier than we really know. I might want to keep a check on this as the school year progresses. I’ll let you know what I find.

Now, like I was saying, Austin really digs school. He comes home all smiles as he bounds happily off the bus, jumping into my arms. He will chat a bit about his friends and what they did at school. On Friday, he was very happy heading out to school. He had on his new Doodlebops shirt. As soon as he had it on, he said, “Show to friends.” When he got home and I asked what his friends thought of his shirt, he summed it up well in one word, ”Nice.”

The hardest part for Austin about getting back to school seems to be his sleep patterns. For most of last year, he had afternoon class which allowed for sleeping in every morning. Now he has morning class and he has to get up early. That means getting your sleep without sleeping in during the morning.

Last week, he tried to compensate his sleep by taking a nap on Tuesday and Thursday. The cutest one of those was on Thursday afternoon, when his nap was unintentional. He was sitting at my computer, playing his Pooh game, and fell asleep in the chair. Noticing the game sounds from the study had gone silent, the Mrs. checked in on the little computer whiz. He was slumped against the back of the desk chair with his head leaning on the armrest in, what appeared to be, a very uncomfortable position. It must not have been uncomfortable, though, as he was sawing some serious logs. I picked him up and shifted him onto the leather sofa in the study, about two feet from where he was. He slept soundly for another two hours before I roused him.

I’m sure I sound like so many other parents gushing about their kids when I write this stuff, but I can’t help it. Being a parent brings this side out in me. I think most parents would say the same thing. Or is that the parent side of me just being defensive of other parents? Is this a parent conspiracy?

I suppose I’ll always feel this way, sort of mushy, about my child. As I said, I can’t help it. There is this overwhelming force that comes from being a parent. It defines this to me as one of the most meaningful things that I have ever done. I just don’t see how that feeling can ever go away.