It's Father's Day. We're waiting for the man of the day to wake up, presents arranged neatly next to a fruit tray, breakfast ingredients ready on the counter. Boo has been practicing saying "Happy Father's Day, Daddy", but it sounds more like "Happy Birthday." Good enough, I think. Fatherhood is a rebirth of sorts anyway.
When I met Sean, he was 50/50 on becoming a parent. That's pretty much exactly how he put it. It took me a whole lot of years and regular visits to my cousin's house, where the kids were cute and the parents laid back and having fun, to convince him that family life may be a good idea. Actually, at one point he was so convinced that he told my cousin he wanted to have 5 kids, to which my cousin wisely replied, "You can say you want 5 kids because you don't have any kids."
Sean's not an outwardly sentimental guy. I think we were dating for about 3 years before he said, "You're the best thing that ever happened to me." But when the Boo was born, he held that little squirming red body in his arm on the first day of his life and said sweetly and sincerely, "You're the best thing that has ever happened to me." In Boo, he had found someone to pour his love into, someone he could trust to love him innocently, with no agendas or demands except, of course, those one or two little demands that a child puts on a parent.
I heard it said that every good father has a dream for his family. Since becoming a father, Sean has pursued that dream tirelessly. He has worked hours that nobody should be expected to work, driven, I know, by the awesome responsibility of supporting the little being that he loves so much and the mother that takes care of him. He has sacrificed sleep, exercise, time with friends and family, and down time. I have complained about the hours he works but I know that I fail to appreciate how it feels to be the sole provider for a family. Today, I want to make sure he knows that I do appreciate it, more than I can explain.
In the last few weeks, I've written about being a "solo" parent, but I never wanted to say I was a "single" parent. That would disrespect what my partner does (not to mention what single parents do), even when he is not around to give hands-on help. I am so blessed to not have to worry about getting food on our table or a roof over our heads, clothes and toys and classes for Boo, a car to drive him in, and countless other things that only money can buy. And whatever spare time Sean has, he spends working around the house, sleeping, or soaking up precious hours with Boo. He wakes up with him on weekends so I can sleep in, and he takes him out on "adventures" so I can have time to myself. He bathes him and changes him and puts him to bed, reading stories with such exuberance that Boo never chooses me to read books if Sean is available.
No, I am not a single parent. Boo and I are blessed with a hard-working, sweet-loving, endlessly-trying-his-best father. He is respectful and gentle and warm and patient with Boo, never trying to be intimidating or authoritarian like some fathers seem to think they should be. In the 8 years I've known him, I've watched him transform from a 50/50 on fatherhood to a giving 100% father. I'm so proud of him and the way he has adjusted and expanded in this crazy trip called parenthood. I know we have a long road of parenting in front of us, and I'm lucky to be traveling that road with Sean. Happy Father's Day, lover. Thanks for being my faithful co-pilot, and Boo's (and Peanut's to come) wonderful Daddy.
