You know those people who are just meant to be parents? They hold other people’s babies and coo affectionately. They keep calm when someone’s injured. They make you smile when you feel like doing anything but. Well, I was never one of those people.
In fact, I was pretty certain I was going to be a terrible mom. I am a terrible cook. I am a disorganized monster. I am late for everything. I like time by myself. I’ve never had a nurturing bone; I’m one of those people who if I insult you, it’s because I love you. How is that type of person supposed to raise a good human being?
But I was never worried because my husband is all of the things I am not. He is one of those people who was destined for parenthood. When I was pregnant, he was the one who needed reeling in because the baby didn’t need 18 million outfits. He was the one playing his favourite music and judging preferences based on kicks. When I woke up in the hospital after giving birth, I was the one repeatedly saying, “Put the baby down, you’re going to fall asleep holding him.” We were both exhausted from 36 hours of labour, but he couldn’t help himself. He was in love.
I think we’ve done a pretty bang up job raising this kid so far, and it’s all because of him. I’ve followed his lead. I am the researcher, he is the gut. Whenever I get carried away and start worrying about something, he’s always the one to reel me back in. And when we do need to act, somehow he always knows the right timing.
He is caring and patient. He is silly and fun. He is an amazing cook, to the point where dinner time is the time I most often get asked when Dad is home next. He barely even freaked out that time that Kaleb puked in his mouth! He has based his career around providing a certain quality of life for our family, and while it’s difficult being apart for 3 weeks at a time, this year it proved over and over again to be the best decision we could have made. We get 10 solid days of nothing but family time every month, which is a rare and valuable thing.
He is the dad that will make the awkward dash into a heavy ion research centre to get his kid a t-shirt. Who will ride the Astro Orbiters at Disney well after Mom has peaced out, even though he’s just as nauseous. Who will continue to sneak his kiddo gummy bears and skittles even though he knows he’s going to get ratted out two seconds later, as though Mom is the only decision maker in the house. C’mon, child, don’t you know that dads don’t babysit? The fact that my son prioritizes being a dad one day speaks volumes about how amazing his own dad is.
He never says passive aggressive things like “What do you guys do all day?” or “Can you take care of it? You’re just home with the kid all day.” Instead he says things like “Sounds like the kid was a monster today. You should relax with a glass of wine. I’ll help you clean when I get home.” (Take note guys: this is the sexiest thing you can say to your wife.) And if he does walk past that crap on the stairs, or make me promises that he never keeps about cutting the lawn before he heads back to work, I guess I probably am not 100% perfect either if I have to be totally lying. I’m kidding, I’m kidding. It’s a miracle he agreed to marry me in the first place. I’m so lucky to have him, and Kaleb is so lucky to have him for a father.
I almost feel sorry that I only got him that clip in man bun for Father’s Day. He deserves so much more.