Sunday, June 16, 2013

The real Mac Daddy

Before we met, I was disinterested in being married. Marriage was a great idea for other people but the concept  was not alluring to me. And then what initially began as a glimpse through a window only improved as being close to you provided an unobstructed view of your flawless green eyes and that square jaw I immediately wanted to run my finger along.  And I vividly recall all those early dates when the sheer magnitude of you turned me inside out. Unlike some situations, I knew exactly what hit me. And then a glimpse turned into an absolute I Do. And we learned quickly marriage is not like play practice. We felt with our successes before we met, we knew exactly how to navigate this new entity. And even more humorous is how we tried to negotiate with one another that our personal way in certain formats was clearly the. best. way. Oh, we learned much the first year. And the second. Sometimes we learned our lessons gracefully. Sometimes, well, we didn't.

And when we found out we were pregnant and I immediately pondered if we were ready to be at this place, and more specifically would I be capable? Would I excel? You put your hands on me and said, "This is exactly where we should be." Later that night, I found a blue box from Tiffany on my seat in the car which held the most beautiful silver baby rattle I still own today. As we wander through the tide of couplehood and parenting, there is not a single person I would rather have in the water with me than you. 
 
You with that sexy salt and pepper hair, perfect chest, amazing biceps. Whose poor heart can only beat efficiently when properly caffeinated. Who wakes up too early every morning with your sleepy eyes and daily renewed wish there would be no talking in our house before 10 am. Who patiently explained to our son why he need not be afraid of spiders but yet wasn't too manly to hide that the first time you saw our son hurt you were momentarily washed in discomposure.


You with your crisp, expensive collars, and gorgeous cuff links. Who has the perfect golf swing and seemed almost giddy to buy our son his first clubs. Who openly stated early on you will not clean bathrooms but does all the laundry and the dishes. I never pick up after you. You pour me wine as I pull in the garage on days you know I have worked too hard and too long. You, who will spend weeks planning surprise trips for me and go to 3 different grocery stores just to find an exotic ingredient I want, all with never once being asked.

You who came home one night with a gorgeous black outfit for me and said, "Put this on. We have a dinner date."
 And you, who came to me during one of the very rare moments you have seen me distraught and asked, "What can I do to make this day easier for you?"

You who sent me to Mexico for a week so I could finish my first manuscript while you stayed home with a ten month old baby. And you are the same man who has not a single hesitation saying to me I don't agree with you at all. Sometimes you say this with more flourish than needed. Accompanied by that face you make.

You have loved me when perhaps thinking about everyone else in this household first got tiring. Too little sleep, too many demands at work, and what we learned early on as parents that there is no greater responsibility we will ever have then being good leaders to our son. But we quickly learned the words freedom and spontaneity in our lives would have radical new changes in definition. But then I hear you reading to our son and using all the different voices he loves, and I know you are an amazing Father.

To you, the man who has made me palpitate and tremble. But admittedly, we are both strong and tough and there have been minutes when we felt perhaps we couldn't even look at one another.  But we always return to our favorable position. Through a glance, a kindness, some offering, or a late night twist and turn into one another.

I love that you love music. And sports. And our son has adhered to both since he was a baby. Only you would buy our son floor seats for the Eagles concert when he was three. And two weeks ago, we sat and watched as our tiny son was invited to sit in with the band and play drums. It was a very emotional moment for us. We were totally into it as audience members. I felt like this could be a scenario we find ourselves in many times. Rooting our son on from the crowd.  I took a mental snapshot and placed a very high value on such unhampered felicity. 

And we take the good with the bad. As much as I have encouraged you to have patience at moments when MiniMac challenges us, you never threw it back on me the first night I came in and asked, "Why is he being SUCH A PILL?"  And thats not what I said but it looks much better in print. One night when we sat down sipping wine, we talked about how all the hard work is worth it. He is an incredible boy. You turned to me and said, "It is mostly because of you." No. We have the team work component down well. Reinforced the other night when I told him no and he said, "Perhaps Daddy will have a different answer." Thanks for setting him straight. I like his logical approach. And I love you shut.it.down.

We have laughed. Some of my favorite moments are when MiniMac told me I should get a penis like you two. And when you wore the Darth Vader mask to surprise him at school as guest reader. Or when he caught us mid-act and asked what we were doing. You quickly replied, "Exercising." We have cried too. The day they handed him to you and said, "You have a son" in particular. 

The amount of time we spend investing in him is incredible. Worth every minute. You are good at it and you want to be which is the most important thing. Happy Father's Day to the real Mac Daddy.

2 comments:

vanilla said...

You have an incredible husband? He clearly has an incredible wife, one who prepares such plaudits for her man!

The girl with the flour in her hair said...

What a sweet post. Lucky man. And it sounds like you did pretty well, too. :)