The night we found out I was pregnant we were both delighted, surprised and maybe a little bit (or a lot!) scared. But then I think it hit him.
“I’m going to be a Daddy”.
And he never looked back.
My husband threw himself %110 into being the best Dad he could be. The first few weeks of screaming and all-nighters and general parenting ineptitude didn’t phase him. He was overwhelmed with love, overwhelmed with adoration for this little squawking bundle that did nothing but scream and poop.
And I was amazed.
Because you never really know your partner until you have kids. You never know the levels of compassion and love that are possible until you test them with all manner of difficulties;
not sleeping, poop explosions, and the hormones that are surging through your body and making you scream, cry and laugh all at the same time.
But he survived, and excelled and became one of the best Dads I have ever met. And now that the kiddo is older, I see them together and it makes my heart swell. I see them throwing a ball, or looking at books of airplanes, or snuggling together on the couch and it makes me love the man even more (if that was even possible).
He’s an incredible Dad.
The kiddo lights up like a christmas tree when he walks in the room after a nap. He hears his voice downstairs and becomes a ball of excitement that Daddy is home. He becomes a lip quivering mess when I tell him that he has been naughty and that Daddy will be grumpy with him… because that thought is unthinkable… and Daddy is the center of his whole world.
We moved up here a year ago for this.
For the ability to be a closer family.
For the opportunity to share quality time with one another.
For the chance to foster and nurture our relationship with each other and with the kiddo.
And he has continued to be the best Dad.
The most loving.
The most patient.
The most excited at the thought of shaping Drew into the man he is going to be someday.
I love you Husband. Happy Father’s Day.