A Husband Who Became a Dad

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My husband is not a saint. He is not Prince Charming. He is not my savior. But some days, he comes pretty close. It’s on those days, when everything feels like it’s going to fall apart, and he brings me a glass of wine and swallows the sarcastic comment waiting on his lips, replacing it with a kiss on my forehead, that I send Jesus a little prayer of gratitude for letting him be mine. And I pat my husband on his hip, and remind him he’s the best.

As a husband, he kicks ass. He’s not intimidated easily, and so he doesn’t feel challenged by my brassy tongue or big dreams. He’s faithful, and not just for show, and not just with his body. He believes in me.  He likes the challenge of me. And he is up for that challenge. He’s the only one who ever could be. For years, I have known he was the smartest man around. I love when other people realize it, too. I smirk, because I knew when he was just sixteen, and so I must be pretty clever myself.

But as a father, he’s even better. He’s a builder of legos and an architect of pillow forts. He’s a baker of sweet treats and a master at macaroni and cheese. He can fold a flawless paper airplane, and then spend hours flying them from the second floor landing. He can draw whatever cartoon character my son is currently “into”, and all while the kid stares over his shoulder, breathing warm, moist air down his neck.

He plays video games and knows obscure superhero trivia. He and my son have intellectual debates about villains and heroes.

He’s good at the hard stuff too. He’s great with nightmares and middle-of-the-night requests. He isn’t afraid of tears or holding on really tight when my son can’t stop them from coming. He will say no, but not just because he can. He always provides a reason. He can multitask, but focuses completely when the situation calls for it. He doesn’t ignore hard questions, and he doesn’t pretend feelings are meaningless.

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He gives us both hugs at the same time. He kisses me on the lips in front of our son and tells me I’m beautiful. My son tells me I’m beautiful, too. My son gives compliments to girls and talks about deep things with his friends. He is kind to animals and smaller children. He is sensible and silly, and he wants a wife, not just a girlfriend.

My son is learning everyday what it means to be a good man, and that’s because his Dad isn’t afraid to show him. My husband is my soulmate, but my son’s dad is a hero.

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