“While I was out alone one evening, I texted my husband to check in. He was holding down the fort with our three young daughters and I felt it only right for me to ask how he was.
Within a few minutes, my phone buzzed. ‘Just got P down for the night. The girls are good. A unicorn-related crisis is now over.’
I stood in the middle of a busy store and laughed out loud.
When our first daughter came into the world, my husband spent the night she was born staring at her tiny newborn face, patiently waiting for his turn to hold her. After a while, I delicately handed her over to him.
I watched him walk over to the hospital room sofa and sit down. He placed her on his chest, tummy-to-tummy. After a moment, his entire body relaxed. He put his head back on the cushion as he let his eyes close. Comfortable. At ease. He was home.
When he opened his eyes to look at me, they were glassy and red. I started crying. We both started laughing.
‘This feels really nice,’ he said to me. And that was the moment. He was a Dad.
Since then, he’s been busy raising three little girls. And while a 7, 6, and 3-year old can be a lot to handle–I know he’ll manage it. If there are boo-boos to kiss, he’ll kiss them. Dinner will be made and served on their favorite plates.
My husband surprised me when we had our children. At times, he gets overly stressed out by the chaos and noise. He’s convinced that only our kids have developed a deep inability to listen. He has been known to yell ,’Baths are not for splashing!’
And then, at other times, he handles unicorn-related crises with ease. He’s unflappable. Missing stuffed unicorns will always be searched for and found. He is their constant.
He is showing them, in his quiet way, that men should be sensitive. Reliable. Kind. He’s teaching them about healthy relationships. And they are learning how multi-layered a man can be.
He is doing what Dads do.”