Heidi spent the day down in Delta, Utah (population 3,209 brave souls) running her other-other side business. As a welcome consequence, I got to spend the day with my sons. Lately when I am fortunate enough to have major solo time with them I get this goofy "I am hanging out with the guys" feeling. This is unexpected considering I am their father. I helped make them right? They have recently developed an effortless cool interaction that I marvel at. I feel fortunate when they let me mix around in it. I keep waiting for them to notice that I, unlike them, am not 2-3 feet tall with floppy golden hair and big blue eyes.
While chauffeuring them around on our adventures I confess to being a habitual rear view mirror watcher. This is dangerous and ironic as I could injure them by crashing from trying catch a glimpse of their in car movements. I have found that due to their hyper activity, catching long observations of them in free roaming environments is difficult, so the 5 point car seat harness is a legal way to restrain and observe them. After many long & short car trips I have categorized the following as their typical behaviors:
Tickle Wrestle: Due to the fine example of their father, both Luke and Miles have learned to wrestle and tickle with pinpoint accuracy. Luke can project his little tickle fingers into my neck so quickly and effectively it is surprising. Sometimes these two go at it in the car. Luke can get Miles going pretty good. You can tell by the Miles’ signature growl, belly laugh, and eventual giggle tears.
Car Dancing: Somehow both of my sons have developed an extreme affinity for music... especially pop music. They will both absolutely rock it to any and every bass pounding beat. Miles (more limited due to the more aggressive car seat) does continuous kicks while karate chopping. Luke has a dizzying array of moves that I will not attempt to quantify. Let's just say the brotha has soul. At least one rap/techno cd mix remains in disc changer 24/7 to incite needed Snyder boy funk.
Glassy Eye Gaze: As a kid sitting in the middle seat of our family Honda or Isuzu trooper I would often gaze out the window at the blurring landscape rolling by. If good music was on the radio or tape deck I would pretend that my window scene went to the song to make up some custom music video. I am not sure if this is what Luke and Miles are doing but often I will look to the back seat to find them both glassy eyed and gazing out their windows. "What in the world can a four or one year old be pondering about?" I do get an insight into Luke’s mind every once in a while he will ask me a question out of nowhere after some long pause.
“Dad, is there good and naughty witches? Cause some are funny and some are scary.”
“I really love Milesy he’s a good guy.”
“When we went on the bunny ride (splash mountain) was the water slide on a track?”
“When you build our new house I want a green one.”
Contortion Sleep: Lets just say it is a good thing little boy bones are basically rubber at this point in development. When it is eerily quiet I will look in that back seat to find them asleep and often in the cruelest head positions. In the throws of forced sleep, Luke looks like a rag doll riding a bull. Most often his head is hanging forward swaying side to side, my solution is the gas pedal and my truck’s V8. I can get that head back against the seat quickly and smoothly. It is usually then re-enforced by a shirt or blanket lying nearby and soft breaking. On the way home tonight, Luke fell asleep leaning against Miles’ car seat. In my rear view mirror I caught a glimpse of that little Miles reaching out and awkwardly patting Luke’s cheek three or four times. It is one of those totally fulfilled "Dad" moments.
Thinking of my own time as a kid in the back seat I remember that the boundary between me and the front seat seemed to be some unseen force field between adult and childhood. They had all the control, responsibility, and perspective while we were patiently along for the ride. The one exception to this was when my mom or dad would occasionally break the divide and reach their arm back and give my leg a subtle squeeze. It was like, "yeah we're busy driving and reaching back is awkward but I haven't forgotten about you." It was a clear moment in their busy lives where I felt my parent's full priority, me.
Lucky for me, Heidi, and the boys, we’ve got lots of driving ahead and pretty long arms.
