Adventures in Fatherhood

Last week, Nacho traveled to Louisville, KY for a few days of ground school as a part of his required training at work. This usually means sitting in a classroom all day, watching some videos and generally being bored out of his mind while they prep for quizzes and go over the same materials again and again. But this time around, he (and the rest of the trainees) were welcomed by some other pilots based in Louisville with a barbecue, and another co-worker who grew up there offered to take him out for a taco lunch and maybe a ride in his father's plane later in the week. I was starting to feel better that maybe it would be an enjoyable time for him after all. Little did I know that he was actually having a blast.

The airplane in question is a two seater, spin-tastic ride which apparently sounds like a lot of fun when you love flying. I, in fact, do not love flying. And as much as I have grown accustomed to commercial flights and love traveling in a broader sense, this does not inspire great confidence in small, general aviation planes. So I begged Nacho to be careful and listened intently to him talk about the flight when he called to tell me he was back on the ground. But when he returned home on Friday night and showed me photos of the flight, I was in awe. The rolling green fields and river did look amazing from up there. I still wasn't too pleased as he described how hard it was to see anything from the back seat as he attempted to land it himself. But I will concede that he likes a challenge (he did marry me after all!). And when he protested, I tried to tell him that it wasn't his judgement I questioned as much as it was the fact that I worry about his safety because I love him. Maybe it's just something in my mothering DNA that wants to make decisions based on safety and measures my own enjoyment of activities in proportion to the risks they incur for myself and my family. Is this inherently different for fathers? Should it be? I guess I can question this all I want, but the fact is that I wouldn't have it any other way. While I pack up the snacks, pour the milk and apply the sunscreen, Nacho is busy tossing Elisa in the air, racing her down the ramp in the stroller and dashing through the crosswalk on a blinking light. It's the yin and the yang of parenthood, so I guess I should lighten up.