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People often tell me how lucky I am to be married to such a hands-on dad. And I couldn’t agree more.
I see friends with husbands who refuse to change diapers. Or dads who would sooner spend their entire weekend playing golf than spending time with their kids.
And while I never experienced that with my husband, he wasn’t always so involved.
It certainly wasn’t for a lack of interest or effort, really. When I was pregnant with my first baby, he attended every single Bradley Method birth class with only minor complaining. And I couldn’t blame him. Even I didn’t like giving up Saturday college football to look at vagina diagrams.
I was a new mom. I wanted the best for my baby, which I somehow translated into giving her all my attention all the time, at the cost of many things: my health, my sleep, even my relationship.
And when our first daughter was born, he changed her diapers and gave her baths until he returned to work. His busy schedule had him gone before the sun came up and home long after bedtime. And between his need for sleep to properly and safely do his job as a military pilot and our daughter’s need to be attached to me at all times, his involvement decreased.
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