Daddy's Little Girl

This week, I ran the Chicago lakefront with a personal trainer to the NYC elite one day and a dairy farmer the next, I taught four classes in marketing and learned how to say stuffed animal in at least five different languages (my favorite is in Dutch - say 'knuffel' with me); I was the first one out on the dance floor at the House of Blues, I shopped at Nordstrom's, sang Karaoke in a mock Tokyo Bar, ate a whole lot of hummus, heard the Chicago Symphony perform, welled up as three tenors sang Nessun Dorma, shook hands and exchanged business cards with a lot of people from a lot of countries, poured pints of Guinness with Irish, French and Germans, and I Salsa danced with Miss Ecuador. I pumped and pumped and pumped, did twilight dairy dealings, got a little misty eyed on occasion, and then caught whatever plague is going around. I'm exhausted recounting it.

This week, I lived in a high-paced, flurried world that was largely confined to four levels within Chicago's Sheraton Hotel, playing host, professor, and pestilence carrier at International Conference. Capital I. Capital C. My organization's bi-annual, big deal, non-stop, high energy affair.

But despite the entertainment, enrichment, and excitement, there was a big gap in this week's agenda. Mary. And five days without her was pretty tough at times.

Every night and every morning I worried about how Mary was faring without her Mom. It was the first time that I couldn't put her to bed and kiss her goodnight. It was the first time she didn't wake up to 'Gooooood Morning' Singing in the Rain style. And it was the first time her midnight snack came in a bottle. It wasn't just her I was nervous about though - it was me. I was scared she would resent my absence, or worse, forget who I was after a week. Above all, I was scared that Peter wouldn't be able to do it all, all alone.

***

When I got home late last night, the house was in perfect order, evidence of Tuesday's blowout had been wiped clean, and Mary was sound asleep in her 'I love Daddy' onesie. It was more than a strategic fashion statement, it was visual confirmation that Daddy did do it. And he did it very well.

He didn't just manage the house, Mary's schedule, and his own job, he nursed Mary through her first cold, made sure she had the freshest milk, and kept a very big smile on her face.

With all that I learned this week, my greatest lesson was waiting for me at home. While it's never going to be easy leaving my family behind when I have to travel for work, I learned that Dads, especially Mary's Dad, when given the space and encouragement from Moms, are some of the most amazing care givers. I learned that babies still love their working moms when they return home. I learned just how much Mary loves her Daddy. And I learned that whenever I do travel for work, I need to remember to bring back a souvenir.

Mary just loves her Knuffel. 

Lo.