I don't want my pacifier. I want my daddy

If you're not a Daddy, or even a parent, this is going to seem sophomoric, juvenile, or just plain childish or dumb. That's OK.

But if you've ever witnessed a child who uses a pacifier, this might be relatable.

We all know that children get cranky, fussy, lonely, or just plain unhappy at times. Sometimes, the solution is as simple as something to suck on - thank God for oral fixations!

To some extent, it may be a cop-out, a quick fix, or even a bad habit. But to the extent that it's just helpful, I propose this/these thought(s).

My twins are very similar, and very different. Namely, my son does not use a pacifier, and my daughter does.

While both need comforting at different and similar times, my daughter almost never goes to bed without her pacifier. More to the point, when she wakes up/cries-in-her sleep, she almost never goes back to sleep without her pacifier.

It's not too bad of a lesser evil to accept, especially since A) she and her brother and her parents and anyone else in the house get to sleep and B) pacifiers have come a long way to minimize such concerns as dental impact, etc. These are very good things! Kendra and I did decide that we would not use pacifiers when they were awake past a certain age, but for sleeping, we're pretty OK with Willow using hers.

I would say both kids require about the same amount of tending to, and both have substantial ability to self-pacify and get back to sleep for many of their nighttime interruptions. Typical issues such as breathing issues when sick, poopy diapers, noises, etc. are dealt with on a case-by-case basis. When the kids are just awake and won't go back to sleep no matter what, well, that's another issue entirely. And usually, a little attention, some water (or, when they were younger, some milk) and they're back off to kiddie la-la-land.

There is something special though about a child that can, at times or usually, be pacified with a rubber sucker.

Willow will often times find her own pacifier, put it in her mouth, and drift happily off to sleep. We are VERY thankful for this! And sometimes she has gas (she is very sensitive to gas....) and needs some physical movement to get it out.

And then, sometimes, she just wants to be held.

Mommy tends to most of the daily activities, being that Daddy needs go work (go to work for the first chunk of their lives, and work from home in this most recent season of life), and cannot take naps, go to bed early, sleep late, etc. so Daddy tends to be the one who responds at night. This coupled with weaning and the fact that Mommy tends to have some difficulty getting back to sleep sometimes, I just decided I would take on as many of these little visits as possible.

Well, tonight, or this morning, when my daughter kept crying out, it wasn't just Willow who needed a hug.

I had been up for about an hour. I had allowed myself to drift back off to sleep, but knew I had issues on my mind, so my lucid half sleep was more disturbing than being awake or being fully asleep. I woke up and started confessing through my issues with my Daddy.

I tend to feel pretty down and alone in these times of confession. Not so much confession of 's'ins, but more the 'S'ins of my greater existence, of mankind in general, of my father and forefathers, etc. In particular, I wrestle with the notion of suffering, God's design for life, and the definition (/tendancy/statistical norm/etc) of heroic or at least "good and faithful servant" living. And how hard it is for me to consistently embrace such a lifestyle, even if I have managed some short stints from time to time.

I struggle that it is God's design for man to excel in suffering. I struggle that there is grace for us to fail, or just not strive/succeed. I struggle with the notion that I could be doing so much better if I just applied myself (was true when they kept me back in first grade, on every report card since, and in almost every job review of my adult life.) Sometimes this process is more woeful than others. Today it was just honest an a little mournful, but not despairing.

And then Willow cried out for the third or fourth time, without fading back off to peaceful tranquility, so I went in to give her the pacifier.

It was lying right there beside her head. I figured she was just too groggy to find it or look for it, so I tried to nuzzle it into her mouth. She refused, and kept fussing. She wasn't getting up and reaching for me, or fighting me, she just wouldn't let me put it in her mouth (you know, the way women won't let you help them sometimes because it's just not the result they want... but I digress...)

I knew that if I picked her up, she would relax, and most likely, I could put the pacifier in her mouth, and put her back down, like so many times before. But this time, when I picked her up, and felt her arms try to reach around my shoulders to fully appreciate my presence, I began to weep.

I could hear Willow in her yet non-existent verbal style say "I didn't want a pacifier. I wanted my Daddy."

I realized how much I wanted my Daddy.

I sobbed for a few moments, then stopped when Wilder stirred (comforting two children at 4 a.m. while being comforted yourself is NOT an undertaking I recommend for the feinting of heart!)

I put Willow down, who peacefully took a few puffs at her pacifier, and drifted off to blissful baby sleep land, and went over to Wilder's crib. I thought about doubling my blessing, and sharing it with him too! by picking him up and holding him for a moment, but decided against it when he didn't stir to my touch. I decided instead to simply cover him up, and retreat to my thoughts.

I did have one risky thought, that I may re-visit at some later time, regarding the possibility of God having a flaw, needing to be needed, outside of the fulfillment of destiny and name (redeemer, sacrificial love, etc.) that I have mostly come to terms with already. But for the most part, I was very glad to have a daughter who simply wanted to be with me, rather than with some second-rate substitute for real affection.

I hope that we all will take some comfort in the fact that we don't always have to settle for second rate pacification. I hope we will remember, and even prioritize, that comfort food, television, reading, sleeping and driving fast cars are fine ways to pass the time, but that there's really nothing at all in the whole universe like letting Daddy hold us and hug us when we're down.