Happy Father’s Day to all the dads out there in Cockeysville and beyond. During the run-up to the holiday, I’ve been thinking about how lucky I am to have my husband, Joe, in the parenting foxhole with me. I don’t think anyone realizes how challenging being a parent can be until they are in the thick of it, when there is nothing you can do but keep on going straight through the middle of it all, from the grind of the day-to-day routine to when things get rough and the kids wake up barfing in the middle of the night. I’m happy that I have someone by my side to share it all, good and bad, and to laugh with about it at the end of the day. I’m blessed that the good in my life by far outweighs the rest.
When you meet, fall in love and get married, you’re not necessarily thinking about what kind of parent your new spouse will someday be. As I recall, I wasn’t 100 percent sure I wanted to be a mom when we were newlyweds, though I suppose the idea was hovering around somewhere in the back of my mind. If I wasn’t overly concerned about possible parenthood back then, I’m fortunate that come what may, I’d found the right person to experience it with.
I think the working dads of the world are often the unsung heroes in the parenting stories we see in the headlines. I’m not sure why that is exactly – maybe they are just the quieter sex and don’t feel the need to share as much as we ladies do. But I think in our house, we’d both agree that neither of us could do what we do – working full-time outside of the house with two small children – without the other to lean on. He does the laundry and I cook. He does all the math related to our finances and I do the shopping.
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None of that stuff is very romantic and it’s decidedly unsexy stuff, but I’ll tell you what makes me love him more than ever in a way that never occurred to me on our wedding day: Seeing someone who started out as my college boyfriend grow into the man who is the father of my children, whose kids look at him like he hung the moon. What could be better than that?
