Call of Duty Modern Fatherhood

If there was a Navy SEAL/Army Ranger version of fatherhood, that is what my husband enlisted for when our kids were born. The Elite Team of Dads Fighting Against All Odds to Achieve Impossible Feats of Parenting. You make up the acronym; I’m tired. Jason Statham or The Rock will play him in the movie version of our life: Call of Duty Modern Fatherhood.

The kids and I visited my parents for a couple weeks in May, which meant I had to fly across the country with a three-year-old and a 10-month-old. A fairly impossible feat by most standards, but really, once you’re all checked in at the airport, it’s just about keeping them entertained and not losing any shoes. So I got the easy job. Mission: Impossible is always getting us to the airport with all our accoutrements intact and Mommy not having a panic attack in traffic.

There’s no training for this mission

If you know our family well, you know we are light packers. As in, a month overseas with only a carry-on light. But this trip was a different story. This time we were traveling with a full check-bag, two car seats, a double stroller, and a carry-on. Naturally, we were running frightfully late, getting to the airport. [cue panic attack] By the time we arrived, we had 30 minutes to check in, get through security, and board the plane. Impossible. To make matters worse, we had to park 3/4 of a mile away from the airport.

Answering the Call of Duty

Call of Duty Modern Fatherhood: a Father's Day story of strength and valor on between my calm breathing exercises and my prayers that we didn’t blow $900 on a flight we’d miss, my husband went into SEAL mode. As I buckled the kids into the stroller, he uninstalled both car seats from our car, bound them to himself with their LATCH straps, got our suitcase from the trunk, and made a run for it. Naturally, one of the suitcase wheels broke in the rush and he ended up carrying a 47.5 pound bag in addition to two car seats, on this leisurely sprint across the parking lot.

Oh yeah, and he was wearing slippers. Because Daddy doesn’t always have time to put on real shoes. Priorities, people!

Here’s the crazy thing: I panic about slow traffic. I freak out about long security lines. But I didn’t worry for one second that our human luggage cart might let us down. This is what he does. He steps up. He runs toward puke, he plans a decade in advance for those awkward discussions, he squeezes 80 hours of work into 40 hours a week so I can be at home with our children.

I imagine he’d say that’s just the Romanian way.×300.png

About The Author


Mom to two little ones who are way cuter than they have any right to be. Locavore, bibliophile, ambivert. Lover of architecture, the desert, and raisins. Caffeine free. Probably hangry right now.
I wrote about desert landscaping and urban water conservation in my former life.


  1. V. Shaffer | 23rd Jun 17

    Very good story…I almost felt like I was part of it!

    • Martha | 29th Jun 17

      Hmm, I believe you were!

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