It was always my dream to be able to take my kids out to the things that excited me as a child. Camping, hiking, fishing, theme parks, sports … but nothing quite touches the male soul like jet fuel, just ask Tim “the tool man” Taylor. So today we headed up to the airshow to soak in some of that raw, thunderous power.

The boys wanted to visit every aircraft they could get inside of … and who was I to argue? They played the side gunners on helicopters, studied the inside of the bomb holds, and walked the inside of a C-5. Now, if you haven’t seen a C-5 Super Galaxy, you need to. The thing is huge, not sure how it gets off the ground fully-loaded.

We sat and watched planes tumble and fall from the sky, only to be “saved” by the skilled pilot [side note: acrobatic flight defies the laws of physics]. We watched fighter planes of all ages show us what they were made of as they showed us their controlled maneuvers and coordinated formation flying. And, of course, we were buzzed by jet fighters to the thrill the crowd which included a Mig-17F doing a pass at 93% the speed of sound. The day was capped off with the Thunderbirds who demonstrated some precision flying along with some heart pounding moments as several times the “solo” plane would sneak up on us, the unsuspecting crowd.

This is the fun part about being Dad. The chance to be a kid again through them and with them. Life is not all unicorns and rainbows, but as dad I live for these moments. I watched them move from exhibit to exhibit fascinated with … well, everything.

Days like today are always what I worried about losing as the family changed. I fret that experiences, especially new and engaging experiences, will be shared with a new male figure in the house. That slowly my role in the boys lives will fade and be replaced with that “family unit” that I had never wanted to destroy. What I was always told is that the boys will continue to desire my inclusion, and I do sense that is how they feel. Yet, it is hard for me to see things from their vantage point … so there my insecurities breed.

After adventures like today, or moments like losing a tooth, or the excitement of watching a new movie the kids always request to share those moments (pictures, videos, or just to talk) with their mom. Which is something I always share, and sometimes even suggest. Now I am not trying to toot my horn, I just believe this is how things should be handled. It is not a competition. I don’t go out of my way to push things in her face, but if the moment calls for it I select a few photos centered around the kids and pass them to her along with comments from the children themselves. Judgement is pulled from my internal desires to have these same moments shared with me. Helps keep things focused on the kids and not on the emotional battles still being waged between us.

Yet, is it being reciprocated? I don’t get calls from the kids when they are with her, at least not often. I don’t get emails or text messages either. Is this how she feels as well? Guess I just hate knowing, or thinking, that I am missing out on adventures that they are having. Absence leads to wondering, wondering leads to worry, worry leads to mistrust … maybe, just maybe … I am just being selfish? Possibly pulling from a desire to never have gone down this path? Well, that is something I have to deal with as no one can fix me better than me.

Today was about a father and his sons sharing in adventures and exploring the toys of our imaginations. We took a lot of pictures and stored away a lot of memories. On the drive home both kids requested that we watch “that fighter jet movie” … yes, that one! We weren’t done with our day yet, some quality cuddle time was still to come.

Special thanks to the MacDill A.F.B. for hosting the event.

The sun is radiating through my bedroom window coaxing me from my bed. It is Wednesday morning, half way through an already busy week. On the plus side the boys are back with me for the remainder of the week. With school out for spring break I am happy to be “working from home”. Yes I am on the constant job hunt with interviews, phone calls and many, many emails. And yes I am working on several different initiatives in both personal and professional nature. Yet, I will still be at home and the boys will be here all day. I sit back enjoying my morning coffee thinking about how this will play out.

I also contemplate how it plays out with other single Dads, and so often with families where both parents are working. Just because the kids are not in school does not mean you get time off work. You are required to coordinate time-off from work, if you can, or find some kind of childcare. This becomes more complicated when you are dealing with shared custody as there is another layer of stresses regarding time limits, right of first refusal, child consistency, and parent hand-offs. In days gone by the kids would follow their fathers and mothers to work the fields or learn the trade. They would help and apprentice. I have found it a real blessing today to find a place that is considerate of the family needs, allowing the kids to come to the office or allow you to work from home. Today, I am just at home … but likely won’t be for long.

Summer is coming, what will I do? Will the boys go to camp again? Will I still be contracting remotely? It is fast approaching and I can feel the anxiety building. But I breathe, I will figure something out and the kids will be good.

What I do know is this week I have the control to make the time. No, not enough time to take them camping as their mother did. But I can make some time. Thursday we visit the museum, the day is to be focused on them. Yes, there will be phone calls, and yes there will be emails. But the focus will be on them – meetings, discussions, and outstanding work will wait until Friday.

I take another sip of my black coffee and ease into my patio chair, soaking up the morning sun. “The boys will be here soon,” I think to myself, “and we will make it a great week.” I take another sip as my phone lights up. It’s their mother wondering where I am. Oops! I was suppose to pick them up? Got mixed up with the child-transfer protocol during the holidays. “I will be right there.” Time to go be Dad!