Excerpt from The New Mom’s Guide to Dealing with Dad
Joining Forces:
It was just a few hours. They’re fine. He’s the dad, after all.
My husband’s first time alone with our newborn was about to end. I’d been to a friend’s baby shower, my first outing after having our first son, and I couldn’t wait to get home. I felt oddly tied to the little guy, as if I’d been cast out like a fishing bobber to float around in my sleep-deprived state, and the strong bond already established between my son and me was relentlessly reeling me back home.
He needs me. I think they need me. They must need me. I am the mom, after all, keeper of the milk and all sage decisions about this baby’s every moment. When I walk in, the house is quiet and a bit messy. They are lying together on a blanket in the living room, exchanging adoring looks. I think I butted in. I think I’m jealous.
It seems my loving husband had taken our six-week-old to the library, gotten him his own library card, and checked out a few books. It was ridiculous and utterly admirable.
“It was so fun to do something that was his first,” Todd said. “Everything he does is a first, but it’s usually with you.”
That simple outing was the inaugural run of the adventurous, why-not, could-be-fun, let’s-learn-something attitude my husband has brought to every day of parenting since then. He does things his way, and I think I’ve finally learned to let him. |