Reasons

I love the Papa for many reasons. And instead of gushing cheekily about how much my partner rocks, I’ll simply relate two stories two illustrate just how lucky I am.

We’ve been having difficulty with early rising lately. Stella has decided that 4:45 or 5:15 is a respectable hour to awaken every morning. And by awaken, I mean she turns on her light and slowly builds to a stadium-worthy howl scream, “Mama!” Kurt Cobain would have been envious of this girl’s throaty growl.

Needless to say, I’ve explored all our options as far as helping encourage Stella to sleep in to at least 5:45 or 6:00am. (And I’ve realized, with that last statement, that my standards of what is acceptable or humane will never be the same after having a child.) And it’s gotten a bit better since the time change. But she’s still intent on waking early.

So the other night, I overheard the Papa and Stella as they were dressing for bed, and the Papa says this:

Okay, now Stella I want you to do me a favor. I want you to be kind to Mama tomorrow morning, and I want you to sleep in until at least 6am. Okay? I know you’re waking early because you’re really excited to be here, and I know you’re really psyched about telling Mama the new words you’ve learned, but let’s be kind. Okay?

So not only does he deftly (and sweetly) show me how much he cares for me, but he also allows me to see Stella’s early mornings from a different perspective. Damn straight, she’s excited to be here. This place rocks.

Enough said, right?

Reason 598 I married the right man.

And then yesterday, after I got home from the gym, and we were all gathering for dinner, Stella and the Papa told me about their walk in the chilly outdoors. Stella basically put on four layers of clothes that were truly hysterical – leggings, pantaloons, pajamas and her grape-like purple fleece snow suit. And then the Papa told me that she pushed her new bath baby doll around in her mini stroller during the walk. I looked into our entryway and saw the new baby all bundled up in the stroller with a blanket and hat. I smiled, thinking Stella had demanded that the baby be cozy. After all, the poor plastic babe is buck nekid underneath the blankey and hat. And we’ve been talking a lot about taking care of one another in our house. I felt pleased and smug that my sweet child possessed the empathy and wherewithal to swaddle and cozy up this cheap doll. What a gentle soul we have.

But no. Stella was the one who kept trying to remove the baby’s hat on their walk. The Papa, on the other hand, wouldn’t have it. He told me, with total conviction and seriousness, that he COULD NOT let a naked baby out in the cold without at least a blanket and hat. And this ain’t about modesty folks, this is about comfort. He simply found the notion of a cold or uncomfortable baby – even a plastic baby – unbearable.

Reason 632 I married the right man - a man who now holds enough compassion and concern in his heart for all the babes of the world, human and plastic alike.