Dear Swee’Pea and Monk,

I go back to work on Monday. I spent the last five weeks learning so much about who my little ones really are. Somehow, along the way, I learned who I really am too. Monk, you are a curious, introspective little guy who gets a little frustrated when learning new things – but you keep trying anyway. I love that about you. Swee’Pea, you love to laugh. You like to interact with others. You reach out to touch your brother whenever he’s near and you love the cat – just like your mother. How could I not love that? And for me? I learned that I love being your father in every sense of the word. I also remembered that I love being your Mommy’s husband. I love being part of this team. We do good things together.

On Monday you’ll be starting daycare for the first time. I have been thinking a lot about this new chapter in your lives and I have a story for you that I think is important for me to tell. My first job out of college was a low-paying job as the personal assistant to the publisher of a small oil and gas publication that catered to large oil companies. Ed, the publisher, was a very demanding man who wasn’t afraid to tell you that you messed up. Ed would yell at you if the mail was in the wrong place on his desk. He’d get upset if you couldn’t get him something in a timely manner. And Lord help the poor copy editor if there was a mistake in the weekly publication. Now, you’re probably wondering why I would be telling you this and what does this have to do with you going to daycare. Well, you see, in addition to being the publisher of a lucrative oil and gas publication, Ed was also the father of a son and a daughter who, by the time I started working for Ed, were both in college. My first week on the job Ed explained to me that, no matter what, if his son or daughter called I was to put them through to his office. I nodded in understanding – “No matter what.” I said. Later that same week Ed happened to be speaking to the Prince of a Middle Eastern nation. Since I was not accustomed to speaking to royalty on a regular basis, I was rather impressed that a prince would be calling my boss. Soon after, Ed’s daughter called. I didn’t put her through to Ed like he had instructed me to do. I assumed the prince was more important than speaking to his daughter. I assumed wrong. Let’s just say Ed let me know in no uncertain terms that I was never to do that again. Nothing was more important to Ed than his children.

Monday I will take you to a daycare where someone besides your mother and myself will take care of you for the first time. I am sad that I will no longer be there for you when you cry. I won’t be able to hold you close when you’re scared. I won’t be able to shower kisses on your smiling face as we celebrate your latest accomplishment. No, I won’t be there physically but, please, please, please, know that I will be there in spirit. And also, please know that, just like Ed, I will drop anything and everything if you need me.

Monk, you are MY prince. Swee’Pea, you are MY princess. If you need me, just call. The receptionist will know to put you through.