Ahhh, rainy days... even though we desperately need the rain, the fact that Jackson can't go outside has caused him to go stir-crazy. He's now taken to following me around the house crying at me. (If that sentence sounds unidiomatic to you, then you must not have kids, because everyone else knows kids will totally cry AT you...and it's the most annoying form of crying there is...) Anyway, moving on...
It occurred to me that although I blog ad nauseum about myself and my son, I have said relatively little about the other most important man in my life- my husband. Seeing as how he's a pretty key player in all of this, I'm dedicating this blog to my relationship with my husband, David.
David is genuinely the nicest man I've ever met. This was a huge impetus in my decision to marry him over, let's say, Gerard Butler. He has lots of other amiable qualities, like his ability to tolerate my incessant relating of actual events to episodes of South Park, but it was probably his general kindness that won me over.
David and I dated for three years before we got married, and then we were married for 6 months before I got pregnant, so it's safe to say that we had a pretty established way of relating to one another before Jack entered the scene. Having a baby changes your relationship in ways you can't possibly imagine. In many ways it's better than it ever was before, but with that comes a huge number of new challenges.
First, a baby really cements your marriage. The following assertion is really UN-kosher, but bear with me: before you have a kid, your marriage can be called a trial-run. Think about it: if you get married and it doesn't work out, you can always just get divorced and move on. Sure, it will be awkward for a year or so when you have to tell everyone they wasted their money on that expensive wedding gift they got you, and then there's the unpleasant decision of who keeps the dogs, but really, no one will be worse for the wear when it's all over. That exit-strategy gets pretty much shot to hell when you get pregnant. Now you're REALLY stuck with this person for the rest of your life. Go ahead and judge me for saying this, but I think that in a society where more than half of all marriages end in divorce, it bears mentioning.
Fortunately, I genuinely like David and plan to stay with him for the rest of my life ANYWAY, but there's always the small chance he could develop an affinity for online poker or I could gain 30 pounds and start watching The Bachelor, both of which are pretty solid grounds for divorce as far as I'm concerned.
But assuming David doesn't take up golf and I don't start scrapbooking, I think we'll be fine. And although having a kid has made things tough on our marriage (before we had Jack I never yelled at David for leaving his shoes in the middle of the floor where Jack can get to them and chew on them) it has strengthened our relationship in a lot of ways. Namely, it's cool to see that David stepped up to the plate when it came to parenting.
(Editor's Note: As a general rule, I try to avoid using this blog to tell people what I think they should do. For one thing, I think pontificating makes you a jerk, but also, I have about as much business telling people how to parent as Bristol Palin has telling people about Abstinence. Anyway, I'm going to go ahead and bend that rule for a minute.)
I really believe men should do 50% of the work in parenting. That means changing diapers and (yes, I'm going there) waking up with them in the middle of the night. Even if you're breast-feeding, your husband should get his butt out of bed, change the baby, and bring him/her to you to feed before passing out. All bonding benefits aside, it means you're a team in this freakish psychology experiment called "Parenting". Ok, I'm done ranting.
David has thus far been pretty cool about sharing the unpleasant aspects of parenting with me. I don't know whether he's involved because of a sincere desire to present a united front or a legitimate fear that I will kill him in his sleep if he tries NOT helping, but either way, he's done it all without ever being asked.
In addition to the appreciation I have for David for manning-up and doing half of the heavy-lifting, it's also pretty amazing to see the man you already love become a Daddy. Sure, I get a little jealous of my childless friends because they get to go out to dinner with their significant other without spending the entire time worrying (and dropping $10/hr for a sitter), but then again, they don't get to watch their son fly to the door and shriek, "Daddy! Daddy! Daddy!" when he hears the car pull up the driveway.
Now, if only I could teach David not to fling the door open (because Jackson is ALWAYS behind it and he ALWAYS smacks him in the head as a result) we'd be perfect.
i heart david.
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