The other day I was fortunate enough to have some much needed “alone” time after a rough day with the kids. Granted, I was with a female friend and we were at Walmart. But still. Anytime a mommy of littles goes anywhere without a 3 foot tall person behind her and a 2 foot tall one strapped to her chest, she is, essentially, “alone”, ‘k?. OK.
So I was alone.
And my husband Kevin was back at home – alone - handling not only our rambunctious 2 year old, but our 2 month old baby girl as well.
It was a “first” for both of us.
As we entered Wally’s world, my companion looked over at me, raised an eyebrow and said with apprehension, “Aren’t you nervous leaving Kevin home alone with both the kids like that??! You know he won’t take as good care of them as you do! A man never takes as good care of the kids as the mother does…”.
I paused for a moment as I considered her words.
She’s right!! He doesn’t take care of them like I do.
Doubt and fears began to creep in. What had I done? What was I thinking?! I had an innocent 27 month old and a helpless 2 month old to consider.
You see, I would never toss our 28 lb. Jack-Evan 3 feet in the air above my head. The thought of it makes my heart do flips! And I certainly would never bench press my son after work, laying on a hard floor for 30 minutes straight as he giggles his head off yelling “MORE! MORE!!!!”. Doesn’t daddy realize how easily a toddler could slip, fall on his head and get hurt?!!
The image of them squished together in the big leather chair watching TV while eating popcorn & goldfish together early one Saturday morning also flew into my head. It had happened while daddy was letting mommy sleep in late. No sirree. Mommy would have made sure Jack-Evan was sitting at the table eating eggs, pancakes, cereal, fruit or grits, thankyouverymuch.
I also remembered the many times when Kevin nonchalantly handed his cell phone (his $200 cell phone!!!) to Jack just because he had begged Daddy for it. (Mommy’s cell phone gets put way up high). Let’s not even count the times that Jack-Evan also weaseled his dad’s sunglasses, hat, and even tshirt from him just so he could pretend to be a “big boy”.
Then there are numerous incidents when Daddy let Jack push the shopping cart around the store with dad following close behind. Mommy never does that. Doesn’t daddy understand that Jack-Evan could decide to run away super fast and therefore he should be put in the buggy seat to ride instead? Letting him push the cart?? No way. Mommy would never do that.
The way his big brawny arms and large 6’1″ frame tries to snuggle our teeny tiny newborn? No, mommy doesn’t do it like that. The awkward twist in his large arms when he tries to support Maggie while feeding her a bottle of expressed milk? No! Daddy, you’re supposed to snuggle her differently! You’re SUPPOSED to do it like mommy!
And the way he reads bedtime stories but always ends up throwing his own twist to the book with nonsense sentences and wrong endings, sending Jack-Evan into peals of laughter? No. Mommy doesn’t do any of that either.
Shoulder rides? Nope. Wrestling? Nope. Giving knuckles at night time before bed? Nope.
Picking out church outfits that do.not.match at all? Nope, nope and double nope.
Suddenly, more images swirled in my mind…..
The excitement in his eyes both times we learned we were pregnant. The proud, wet smile of a father crying unabashedly as he held his first born. The sworn promises of “You’ll never go hungry or shoeless” made in the wee hours of that morning by a first time dad who himself had been through the state foster care system. The tired face of a sweaty man (who had worked 58 hours that week already) kissing his kids goodnight just before he leaves for yet another night of overtime at work.
Then it hit me.
“Yeh, you’re right about that,” I replied. “He’s NOT the ideal Mom….”
“…but he IS the ideal Dad.”
