I am blessed to be married to a fantastic guy who is a wonderful father. The kids adore him. When I was pregnant, I would never have believed you if you told me he would be the more patient parent. I call him a pushover: for example, on Friday night the oldest had a hard time going to sleep so he laid down with him in our bed, and in a few minutes, both of them were asleep. I refuse to share the bed with my kids because they kick me, hog the bed or pillow, but my husband puts up with it more often than not.
“They’re only little once,” he tells me. “Pretty soon they won’t want to snuggle with us or even be around us.”
He’s a big-hearted guy, that’s for sure. My boys are very lucky they won the parent lottery.
Thanks for reading Day 6 of NaBloPoMo!