Wednesday, February 17, 2010

He's the Daddy...

Wordful Wednesday
A damn good bloggy idea from:


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Post a pic...
Say a bunch of words...

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Stephen is a good daddy.

He's not perfect. He doesn't read books to her. He doesn't doesn't even read the parenting books to himself. If he has a spare moment or a few hours to do as he pleases, you will not find him googling about baby sleep habits (like I do) or lookng into 529 plans (like I do).
That drives me crazy.
He will, 100% of the time, forget to put socks on her, under her sleeper, unless I remind him.
That drives me crazy.
He does not see the need to cover her head with a blanket when the arctic air is blowing snow in all directions and he will give me the deer in the headlights look if I ask him about his opinion on vaccines, starting solids, breastfeeding or any other important baby related decision.
That drives me crazy.


But he will always change her diaper. He will always get up to pat her when the baby monitor starts howling. If I say “Can you take her?”, he always says “Yes.”


She adores him. She lights up when he gets home. She jumps in my arms with squeals when he talks to her in his excited voice. She relaxes in his lap and assumes his couch potato stance as they watch bad TV or play violent video games together. Often times they pass out on the couch while I am folding laundry or cooking dinner. They snore in harmony.


He gives her a bath, gives her all her medicine, puts her in her jammies.
Every night. By himself.
And every night he takes her upstairs to our bedroom window and peers down at the neighborhood, spying on the neighbors, calming her down for the night in the darkened room. He waits for me to finish rushing around downstairs: emptying the bath water from the kitchen sink, stuffing the dishwasher, erasing the dinner smears from her highchair, the table, the counters. And when I have carved a huge chunk out of my evening routine, I go up there to nurse her. He peeks her sleepy little head around the corner and into the nursery.
“Where's Mommy?”
Her eyes find me in the rocker and she smiles. We start our evening routine. Sometimes we read a book or two. I make the sign for milk. She drinks heartily and drifts off to sleep. Her hand covers her ear and she talks in her sleep. Because Stephen has done the mundane steps of bedtime preparation, I can focus on nursing her and enjoying this time. And not feeling rushed or thinking of how long it takes to get her from her highchair to her crib. On the rare chance he gets home too late, I realize how much it helps to have him split this time with me. I forget that he could try harder. Worry more.
Be more like me.
But somehow, in a totally different way and with a totally different attitude, he's exactly what she needs.
He's a good daddy.


5 comments:

katquilter said...

That's my boy!!

katquilter said...

It's yin and yang... between the two of you, she has all she needs!

Sarah @ BecomingSarah.com said...

There is nothing better than knowing your child has a good father, and has everything she needs between the two of you. Nothing.

Also, I have a picture just like that! =)

My Life As Mom said...

Isn't it lovely to have such a good role model, father, and person in her life. All for the price of one. YAY.

*emilie* said...

great post. it's good to love someone, and love all the little things about him that drive you crazy, isn't it ?