Thursday

A Frog Among the Toads

I have been having so much fun the past week featuring Father's Day guest posts from my readers!  I truly believe that everyone has a story to share and each is important and touching in it's own way.  A huge thank you to all of my guest writers, especially those of you who stepped out of your comfort zones to share your stories.  If you haven't read them, take some time to scroll back.

That said, I haven't forgotten about my own amazing husband, the father to my children.  So now it's time to share my story...


parachutingfish.com

I never gave much thought to the kind of father I wanted my future husband to be.  I knew I wanted a tall, dark, handsome, romantic man to be my husband.  I assumed that a guy like that would also be a kick-ass dad.

Then, one summer night, in the midst of partying with my friend, D, I ran into a guy who was the complete opposite of all that.

He was not so tall, had blond, thinning hair, was comically adorable, and he just so happened to be someone I had known since I was eight years old.

Hubby had attended the same Catholic grade school as me.  With 120 kids in each grade, however, we didn't cross paths very often.  And although we hung out in totally different social circles in high school (he with the cool party crowd, me in the shy non-party crowd), he always spoke to me.  And he was always nice.

And he was a gentleman!  Most of the toads guys I dated in my twenties were, to be frank, just trying to get into my pants.  And that was so not my style (nothing against you gals who enjoyed your sexuality - more power to you, sistas, as long as you were safe about it).  But this guy didn't even try to kiss me for a long time (I won't say how long and embarrass him, but it was a good month and a half after our first date).

So as time went on, I fell for him more and more, especially after I saw the way he interacted with his twenty nieces and nephews at the time.  They adored him, and I came to as well.  This darling little frog became my handsome prince.

Needless to say, we got married, and here we are just having celebrated our eleventh anniversary last week.


Might I mention here that hardly anything about the past eleven years has been particularly easy?  But I think you know that; after all, that's why many of you come here to read.

First there was the bit about the infertility.  Hubby and I didn't exactly see eye-to-eye on how to proceed with that, but he knew having my own baby was desperately important to me, so he did what I wanted to do to make that happen.

And having twins gave him the first opportunity to show me just what an amazing dad and husband he is.  He had to be involved right away.  He kind of had no choice.  Since Slim was born with a cleft lip and palate and couldn't nurse, Hubby pretty much took over his care and feeding when he was home.  We would alternate cuddling and bathing the twins, and Hubby even jumped right in with all the routines I insisted were so important like tummy time and board book time and silly songs time.

Even after we moved halfway across the country to New York, and he would be gone for days at a time, on - call at hospitals in three different boroughs, he would still jump into his daddy role as soon as he was home. 
Is that a real man or what?!?  I know
you're jealous.


After Baby Knox was born, Hubby pretty much took over the care of both twins.  Every night he would give them baths while I nursed the baby.  It absolutely floors me when women tell me that their husbands have never given their children a bath.  Hubby still to this day helps the boys with their baths and showers every night.

When Joey was sick, Hubby was on his computer each night desperately trying to find some morsel of hope, some place we could take him for a miracle treatment, even though he knew none would be found.

I will never ever forget the moment Joey died, and Hubby said over and over to me, "I'm so sorry," because he knew how much I adored that child and how incredibly broken my heart was.

Hubby and Joey


And I will never forget how scared I was to tell him that I was pregnant after Joey died because I thought he would be mad, but he just said, "Huh," as if I had told him it was raining outside when no rain was predicted, and I let out a sigh of relief.

I don't think he wanted as many children as we have, but he knew I wanted them, and he has loved and cared for each of them with all his heart.

His favorite part of the day is when they all run up to him when he comes home from work.  A parade of little boys shouting, "Daaaadeeeee!!!!"  Hugs and a tumble of words as they all try to tell him about their day.

I know he secretly loves it when they fight over who gets to sit next to him at dinner.

And the twinkle in his eyes when one of them calls him his best friend...priceless.

Hubby and Knox on the fishing boat.


I had asked him to write a Father's Day guest post for me, but he hesitated, using his poor writing skills as an excuse.  Later he admitted to me that lately he hasn't felt like he's been doing too great of a job at the dad thing.

Oh, Sweetie, we all feel like that sometimes!

But I would have to say, hands down, Hubby is one of the best dads I know.  And I'm not just saying that because he buys me pretty things and treats me like a queen (believe me, that totally helps - you know "if mama ain't happy" and all that).

We make no secret about the fact that our marriage takes a hit every time we have another baby.  It's a stressful time for both of us, and he has to share me with some other little dude who also likes my breasts.

Our marriage took a huge hit when Joey was sick, a scary hit.  People thought we were so strong and together, but the reality is that we barely talked to each other because neither of us wanted to talk at all.

And this blog...this blog hits us, too, because I will send my thoughts out to cyberspace, but not tell Hubby about them.

Sometimes I wonder why he loves me the way he does, why he treats me like a queen.

I will say to him, "Do you know I love you?'  And he will always answer, "You do?" like this is news to him.

The only news is what I want to shout from every headline, "My Hubby is an amazing dad and husband!"

He puts up with my secretive, emotional crap.

He works harder than he really wants to just to give our boys wonderful experiences and childhood memories.

He never complains about his co parenting duties - he just does them.

He sees each of our sons as individuals, and treats them as such.

He is funny and takes a creative approach to parenting, especially when I am frustrated and out of ideas.

He speaks eloquently, feels deeply, loves unconditionally.

I told him on our anniversary that I was in this for the long-haul.  It's been a long-ass haul already, and I know there are many more tough times in our future; but it's him I want to haul-ass with.  It's him that makes me a better person, who challenges me to see the good in myself and our boys when my vision becomes clouded.  It's him who doesn't play into any one's bullshit, who calls them on it, in fact.

It's him. My Prince.

He's the frog that I kissed, that unexpected little frog among the toads who came out of nowhere and showed me just what an amazing man, husband, father he really is.



You know I love you, Sweetie...I know you do.












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