Freedom Rocks?

On the way to work today, I was blasting Substitution by Silversun Pickups. And when I say blast, I mean to the LL Cool J Car fly by with the boomin’ system-type levels. Then I cranked Kanye’s Power. Then JEW’s Anais. It was ethereal. Like that drive home after a really good date.

Wouldn’t have happened 90 days ago, and for a good year-plus leading up to then. Doesn’t happen with the baby dictator — instead it was months and months of toddler tunes. Elmo the Succubus. Daddy on the bus says “kill me now”… Like driving home after you’ve been dumped. Except you’re stuck in William Murray’s opus Groundhog’s Day (watch the trailer… I need to rent this ASAP).

In that respect, I don’t miss the commute with our 2-year old. Don’t get me wrong, at first, I thought it would be amazing. Real bonding time. But Dr. Spock is a dirty, malpracticing liar and so is the bulbous Michelin Man and every commercial that ever claimed that kids sleep peacefully in the car. Maybe you’ve had different experiences but both my kids screamed bloody-bollocking-murder as infants and could not wait to be loosed from the crotch-crushing straps of their Graco/Britax torture seats.

So not only is it stressful for a first-time dad to commute 35 miles each way to day care, it’s stressful for a first-time ASIAN dad to drive the FIRST GRANDCHILD WHO IS THE FIRST GRANDSON on both sides of the family through Boston’s perfectly planned city streets and highways.

Sidebar true story: Before the kids were born, I was once on the way home and taking the Mass Pike when I was run off the road. Did a full 360 degree spin at 65 mph. Literally saw the oncoming cars facing me as I pirouetted. Wow, I spelled that word right the very first time. Anyway, I was unscathed, but sure thought of that ride every time I drove home with the little guy.

Anyway, it just got me thinking and more than anything… feeling guilty. The rides changed and he stopped flipping out. I could listen to my podcasts and he’d play with his trucks. He started talking! And he would say “HOME!” when we pulled into the garage and graced me with laughs and smiles while I freed his crotch (see above for reference).

Shouldn’t I miss those things? Cause if he’s anything like me, the days are coming when you really don’t want to be in a car with your parents. He’ll be sulking in the backseat with his mind-controlled-holographic iPad 10, tuning us out. He’ll get his learner’s permit. He’ll come home from school, say hi, and head out. They’ll be off to college. They’ll be on their own commutes.

Maybe. Most likely. But then I thought, what we have now is good. Lady MaMa’s been on maternity leave and getting great time with the boys, and we have a wonderful nanny lined up. So those car rides are now family trips on the weekends. Ones I should cherish more. So I don’t know. It’s ok to enjoy those AND my solo commute time, right?

Well, I’ll figure it out. Til then, it’s awesome to come home and see him sprint to embrace my shins and knees, hooting “Daddy!”. Wish my wife would do that. I should take her out for a drive. And a really good date.