What’s New: Daddy’s Home
The daddy finally returned home on Friday night, hence my extended silence in this space. It has been so very good to have him back with us. He didn’t make it in until around 11pm, so both kids were already in bed. On Saturday morning, Annabelle woke up and started down the stairs, saying, “I don’t need to ask if daddy is home, because I know: he’s not home.” Most mornings prior, her first words each day had been, “Is daddy at home!?” She wasn’t sure whether she could believe me when I told her otherwise, so I sent her in our bedroom to check and the excited snuggles began. They still haven’t really stopped.
We were meant to get a snowstorm this week and, unfortunately, did not, but because Washington, D.C. is the worst during a snowstorm, schools and the federal government were closed. We canceled class in anticipation of the 8 inches that never came and spent a relaxed day at home together, during which we turned the dining room table into a blanket fort, sipped hot chocolate, and spent most of the day in pajamas. A fabulous treat thrown into what would have been an ordinary first week back for Andrew. Continue reading
Real as it Gets
Blurry cell phone photo, but isn’t she adorable? Playing around at Home Depot.
I have been writing this week’s edition of Keeping it Real in my head since yesterday. I’m going to make an attempt to write it, but don’t have high hopes. A microburst hit our little neighborhood tonight so we’re in hour four without power and I’m writing from my phone in the dark, too hot to sleep. A power outage right at the end of a heatwave is pretty poor timing, but at least we have power most of the time, right?
But back to keeping it real – I love these posts for creating a space for celebration and honesty all at once.
A Belated Father’s Day Tribute
It’s officially Tuesday here on Guam already, so I’m a bit late, but I haven’t quite had it in me to write a whole post until now. Due to a rather unfortunate kitchen accident, the daddy’s day took a sudden turn and ended up being all about me. If nothing else, he was able to flex his fathering muscles, loving on our babe while I received half a dozen stitches in the emergency room. I’ll tell you that harrowing tale tomorrow, but I’m determined to make at least one thing about my darling husband!
This weekend has been but one among many reminders of what a good choice I made when I made that man my husband. We were an unlikely pair, but I’m so thankful that we ended up together because I cannot imagine a better father for Annabelle.
Since the moment we learned that she would be joining our family, her daddy has taken his role very seriously. He was actively involved in the preparations for Annabelle’s birth, helping me with relaxation techniques and reading up to make sure he understood everything on the birth plan so that he could be an informed advocate. He was so interested in the nursery preparations that we found ourselves debating color choices.
Finally, the day of Annabelle’s birth came and the daddy was the most wonderful support person I could have dreamed of. He was my doula-husband. Annabelle arrived and I will never forget watching him walk around with his newly born and freshly swaddled bundle. In the early days, he was constantly snuggling, swaddling, rocking, and staring, so comfortable and content in his new role. He even started us on our EC journey by “catching” the first pee when I was too drowsy to think about it.
Ten days into our girl’s life, the daddy had to leave the country but he was constantly in touch, always eager to hear the latest with his girl. Despite the fact that he saw her on Skype daily, he wanted to have photos emailed to him at work. I took care to send one each day, until one night when he informed me, “You know, you can attach five or six.” And so from then on, he got five or six, and he regularly flipped through them all and showed them off. When he returned home eight months later, he and Annabelle wasted no time in reconnecting.
Every afternoon and evening, when the daddy pulls into the garage from work, Annabelle’s eyes light up. She hears the door open, looks at me, and starts excitedly signing “dad!” Regardless of what we’re in the middle of doing, she usually drops everything to rush to the door and greet him with her signature high pitched, “hi!” She is quite sure of his love for her and their bond is a thing of beauty. I could not ask for a better partner in parenting, or a better father for my daughter. I learn from and am inspired by him daily. Three cheers for Annabelle’s Daddy!
On Fathers and Equally Shared Parenting
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| Trying mama’s glasses on dad. |
As you may have noticed, it has been quiet around here for a few days. We had a lovely long weekend planned, complete with a camp out with friends, but instead ended up homebound with a rather nasty cold or flu-like illness of some sort. The girl woke up with a fever Saturday morning and spent the day on my lap looking awfully pathetic. Sunday, the daddy woke up sick and the girl was still recovering. Thank goodness it was a long weekend, because on Monday it was my turn.
I woke up feeling quite lousy, helped the girl crawl out of bed and, upon hearing her daddy greet her in the next room, breathed a sigh of relief and pulled the covers over my head. A few hours later, he came in to the bedroom to check on me and informed me that he had put Annabelle down for a nap. I was shocked.
This may not sound like a big deal, but I assure you, it is. This was the first time in months that the daddy had gotten her down to sleep. I joined some friends for a moms’ night out several weeks ago and was among the first to head home when I learned, at 11pm, that Annabelle was still awake and was growing grumpier by the hour. I didn’t see this as a failing on the daddy’s part, I just believed that Annabelle was particularly attached to the custom of nursing to sleep, and so sleep has always been my job.
For the most part, we share household tasks, though the bulk of them do go to me since I’m not involved in work outside the home. The one thing that has been my job from day one, even when I was often working longer hours than the daddy, is the laundry. This is not because he refuses, but because I do not approve of his methods and long ago declared him unfit to enter the laundry room. There are other housekeeping tasks that I occasionally grumble over when I feel particularly overwhelmed, insisting that “he doesn’t understand what clean means.”
And so we have a pattern of me accepting help, but considering myself ultimately responsible for the care of the house, and even of our daughter. Because you know, in the end, it’s easier for me and I obviously do it better. I have challenged this assumption in my head rather a lot lately, thanks in large part to the thought-provoking points made by some of my favorite feminist bloggers. Annie of PhD in Parenting, for example, wrote an article for Proactive Dads titled, “If Dads are Irrelevant, Moms are to Blame,” in which she explained:
“Society, the media, and researchers are frequently unkind to fathers, portraying them as incompetent or absent parents. These stereotypes are damaging and hurtful to fathers who are taking an active role in their children’s lives.
The flip side of this portrayal of fathers is an assumption that mothers are an extremely important influence and that any and all problems observed in children must be blamed on the their mistakes. This exists in research, in the media, and in society in general.”
While Annie is talking about far deeper issues than putting toddlers to sleep and getting the laundry and kitchen properly taken care of, it’s this sort of discussion that has had me thinking. After yesterday’s events, it is even more clear to me that I’m putting an unnecessary burden on myself, and failing to give my husband the space he needs to parent equally. I put him at a handicap by unnecessarily monopolizing parenting and household tasks.
Yesterday, I stayed in bed for the majority of the day, and not only did the daddy effortlessly handle the girl’s nap, but he also took care of the laundry and generally tidied up around the house. I’m disappointed that it took being out of commission for a day to finally prove to me that my husband is just as capable as I of managing the affairs of our house for a day, but all the same I’m thankful that this point has finally been driven home.
This Moment: Hungry Locavore
{this moment} – A Friday ritual. A single photo – no words – capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember: inspired by Soule Mama.
And last week’s moment …I didn’t post it because last Friday was the Earth Day Carnival, but I had to share!
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