Thursday, April 12, 2012

Somebody To Lean On

Nobody said it was easy.
Sure, anyone can become a parent. THAT'S the simple part.
Being a GOOD parent is what's difficult. A parent who is patient when their child wants to sit on the potty forever but only produces a little bit of gas. A parent who drops everything to attend a tea party with the cast of Sesame Street. A parent who - despite sheer exhaustion - will spend hours curled up on the floor whispering story after story to a restless toddler who refuses to sleep.

I speak not of myself, but of my husband.
My husband... who I've watched grow into a patient and loving father. A man who never held a baby or changed a diaper before having Mackenzie nearly two years ago. A man who melts at the sight of his daughter and lights up every time he sees her waiting at the top of the steps when he comes home from work.
With the birth of our son Braden two weeks ago, our family got a little bit larger and our lives got a lot more hectic. The atmosphere in our home has been similar to that of a three-ring circus. I've spent most of my days covered in spit up, with unbrushed teeth and deep, dark under eye circles.  But Doug has continued to tell me I'm beautiful, that every day my body is looking more like it did pre-pregnancy... a compliment worth its weight in gold, especially for a hormonal and sleep-deprived postpartum woman.  
He hugs me.  Tells me he loves me.  Reassures me that I'm a good mom.  That I'm doing a great job.  
Doug has been my best friend for a decade now.  We're on the same page.  We see eye to eye.  We confide in one another.  We share our dreams with each other.  
And most importantly we always manage to find laughter.  
We've been through a lot together.  But I don't think anything tests a marriage quite like parenthood does.  But the more children we have, the stronger our love seems to get (DON'T GET ME WRONG - WE ARE DONE MAKING BABIES, LEST WE END UP SHARING A PADDED ROOM IN THE LOONEY BIN.)  
And while I'll roll my eyes each time the sponge isn't completely wrung out or the sheets aren't tucked in tight enough or Mackenzie's toys aren't stored in the right spot, I remind myself... I have a husband who helps with the dishes.  And is willing to make the bed.  And helps to clean up the house.  
Nobody said parenthood was easy.  The first few weeks with a newborn seem incredibly hard, and -- at times -- near impossible.  But it only gets harder. 
They soon grow up enough to be able to talk back. 
To have a mind of their own. 
To throw tantrums, to defy orders, to rebel.  
But having a strong, loving partner in parenting makes things a whole lot easier. Someone to lift you up.  Someone to back you up.  Someone to lean on.  
So thank you, Mackenzie and Braden's daddy.  I hope our son grows up to be just like you.  


  1. That made my heart happy! Congratulations!

  2. So sweet, can't husbands just be so wonderful!!

  3. What perfect timing! Discovered your blog a week ago and instantly connected to your story. Having a 2 and a half year old daughter and a 6 week old son myself, your words speak directly to me. Keep sharing. Nice to be reminded I'm not the only momma up at 3 o'clock in the morning chatting it up with a newborn.

  4. Thanks for reading ladies!

  5. I love this one, D. :)