Monday, June 22, 2009
On the way out of my sister-in-law's place yesterday, my husband joked, "Based on how much we do, Father's Day should be, like, from 7 a.m. till noon. Then it should be a continuation of Mother's day..."
We all laughed and my sister-in-law and I exchanged that sort of running-joke-knowing-glance. Yes, moms do alot. Yes, moms--let's be honest--do more than dads, more often than not. Yes we give birth, we nurse, we know how much milk is in the fridge.
But you know what? This journey--and let's be clear, parenthood is nothing if not a journey of Homerian proportions--would be a horribly whiter shade of pale without these guys by our side. At least for me--and I think for most of you as well. I was telling someone the other day that having a partner in parenthood isn't about tallying up who does what, and who does more--it's more about having somebody to have adult conversation with during a day of non-stop baby logistics, going to sleep next to someone you love at the end of a hard day, knowing that you entered into this whole thing with your co-conspirator in life.
So my ode to my joy, my husband, the only person in the world who can make me laugh and cry at the same time, who makes up songs with me about Castro and nachos, who diapers babies as often as I do and who, when I feel like I am drowning in the mundanity of it all, can make me feel plugged in and alive:
Thank you for convincingly still declaring that you think I am beautiful after 3 kids in 4 years.
Thank you for understanding the notion of something approaching equal parenting even though we have never discussed it as a philosophy.
Thank you for never, ever allowing me to take myself too seriously...but at the same time knowing when I need to be serious.
Thank you for believing in me.
Thank you for being able to laugh at yourself (there's a lot to laugh about...!)
Thank you for consistently, persistently, continually, striving. To be better. At everything.
Thank you for my children, my life.
And one request--Not about helping me during night feedings; not about not going on so may business trips. Not about schedules, expectations, formula, groceries, drop off, pick up, date nights, phone calls. Not about any of the trappings of this life with three kids under 4. My one request? Please please...PLEASE Get rid of those shoes.