Last week was supposed to be one of the best weeks of my life.
When I told my friends why, they responded with a mix of disbelief and envy: “How did you pull that off?” “You hit the lottery!” “Can we trade places?”
At the time, they were busy cramming their kids’ belongings into as few bags as possible, all while trying to stay under the 50-pound airline limit. Spring break had arrived, and my friends were jetting off to various corners of the country to yell at their kids in unfamiliar settings.
The news I broke to them? I wouldn’t be joining the spring break chaos. Due to a poorly timed elbow surgery, I couldn’t travel. My wife would be taking our three kids — ages 10, 7, and 4 — to Utah for a ski trip without me.
So what’s a temporarily solo dad to do with a quiet house and only his beloved bulldog for company?
I had grand plans. Each day after work, I’d come home, change into sweats, and spend the rest of the evening doing what I love most — lighting up a cigar and diving into a good book. Better yet, I’d start two hours earlier than usual, reclaiming time normally lost to homework, sports, and bath time.
Losing the normal rhythm of my day made something very clear: Without my family around, my life had no order. And it’s that order that gives me purpose.
With my family returning the day before my 40th birthday, I saw this as my opportunity to live large for a week — maybe even earn a spot on a “40 under 40” list. But if I’m being honest, my real goal was simple: Do as little as humanly possible.
Still, some things had to get done.
I did three loads of laundry before realizing I hadn’t added detergent to any of them. For dinner each night, I drank a protein shake made of nothing but powder and water. (Apparently, my wife didn’t leave me any actual food.)
I hand-washed every cup, plate, and utensil I used — not because I wanted to, but because the dishwasher intimidates me more than anything else in our house.
It didn’t take long to realize that without my wife around, I function at the level of barely breathing.
But wow, was I free.
That night, the cigar lasted a little longer. My dog got to sleep in the bed. I even sent a few humblebrag texts to my friends.
Then came the next morning.
No waking to the soft sound of the shower running after my wife’s early workout. No stroll down the hallway belting out Travis Tritt’s “It’s a Great Day to Be Alive” to wake up the kids. No chance to embarrass my son by singing in the school drop-off line in front of the girls in his class.
When I walked back in the door that day and saw my daughter’s theater bag hanging in the mudroom, I would have done anything to sit in traffic and drive her to her Monday-night rehearsal — the same drive we always complain about.
But instead, there was nothing. Just that “freedom” I had been craving.
And in that moment, I realized I had it — freedom from the mundane routines of life. And I was miserable.
Losing the normal rhythm of my day made something very clear: Without my family around, my life had no order. And it’s that order that gives me purpose.
I was homesick at home.
It turns out this is completely normal. According to the General Social Survey — one of the most respected studies of American life — men and women with a spouse and children are the most likely to report being “very happy.” For men ages 18 to 55, marriage nearly doubles the likelihood of happiness compared to those who remain unmarried.
Andrew Tate’s followers might want to ask for a refund.
For me, the longing wasn’t just about missing companionship. I missed the “work” that comes with having a family. And according to Brad Wilcox of the Institute for Family Studies, that’s also typical.
But the benefits of that work extend beyond the home.
“It’s getting harder to ignore the data that show men fare better when they have the ‘positive pressure’ of caring for a family,” Wilcox writes. “Stable marriages don’t just benefit kids. … The obligations of family life motivate men to work harder and smarter. Fathers literally make more money when they have kids.”
Something deeply rewarding comes with the responsibilities of marriage and fatherhood. I’ve gained a new appreciation for the frantic Sunday dash to church and the hours I’ve spent untying double knots.
And if Brad Wilcox is right, those cuddles might even be boosting my income.
The post Home alone for spring break — and hopelessly homesick appeared first on TheBlaze.
