Tag Archives: husband

Nothing Sexier Than A Supportive Partner

I recently wrote about the intense program I am doing at my gym three-days-a-week. I wrote about how sore I feel – all the time. About how motivated I am. About how I am learning to make my health a priority. What I didn’t write about is how fortunate I am to have a strong support system. I am only able to take the time for me because my husband is willing and able to help. For this I am grateful.

A father caring for his kids is not a babysitter

My husband has always been a hands-on and present father, but in the last month he has really taken things to a new level. I won’t say I am surprised, but I am impressed.

On workout days, the moment the last child in my daycare is picked up, I rush to change and head off to the gym. On these days he feeds all four kids and makes sure the main level is organized. Then when I get home exhausted and starving he initiates the bedtime routine with the older children, so I can eat (my lean protein and veggies) and put the baby to bed. Sometimes by the time I finish my dinner to join them, I find him snuggled in bed reading to the five and six-year-old.

There really is nothing sexier. After seven+ years of marriage I can truly say I am more in love with him now than I was from the beginning. And not just because he is a good father. Because he is a good partner for me.

Not once has he complained. Not once has he even seemed annoyed by taking on more responsibility. And not once has he referred to this time as babysitting, which is a pet peeve of mine because a father caring for his kids is not babysitting – it’s just being a parent. In return I have made a conscious effort not to criticize or critique his style. So what if he doesn’t do things the way I would.

I know many mothers, me included, who have a hard time letting go of control. We want everything to be done a certain way, so we set our partners up for failure by expecting nothing less than a carbon copy of ourselves. I have to tell you that this is impossible.

If you want help, you have to A. ask and B. let them do it their way. Seriously. 

For years, I used my nightly responsibilities to the children as an excuse that held me back from carving out even an hour just for me. What I have learned is that they are surviving and thriving without me for those 90 minutes I am gone three-nights-a-week. Do I feel slighted or sad about this realization? Do I think I can be replaced? No, not at all. I am happier than ever.

I love that they are bonding with their father. I love that I can trust my partner to be just that - a partner. I know from first-hand experience what it is like to be a single mother and perhaps this gives me a different insight. I could never do what I am doing if I was still a single mom. The respect I have for single parents who do make this happen is beyond great. Perhaps this makes me more grateful and appreciative for the little things. Regardless, I feel blessed.

Thank you baby – for everything (yes, this post just turned into a very public love letter and I hope he is thoroughly embarrassed).

Do you have trouble asking for help, even from your partner? Are you afraid or unable to let go of control? I want to hear from you. Please leave a comment or join the discussion on the Tiny Steps Mommy Facebook page.

 

 

Overprotective or Paranoid: How Do You Feel About Strangers Touching Your Child?

Do I need to attach this sign everywhere I go in order for people to get it?

My children are beautiful. I say this unabashedly. I know everyone may think this, but it is the truth. Strangers stop me all the time to compliment their eyes and fawn over their smiles. Baby N has the lethal combination of being cute and a social butterfly. She smiles and waves to anyone who will look – in the grocery store, in elevators, in doctors offices, and at restaurants. Which gives some people the green light to touch.

I am not afraid of shaking people’s hands or think of every touch as a route of germ transmission. This is not what bothers me. I’m also totally fine with passing my baby off to friends and family to hold. The issue I have is with strangers. It is sort of like when you are pregnant and strangers think it’s okay to touch your belly. It makes me uncomfortable.

A wave is fine. A smile is nice. A complimentary word or two with the Mommy and maybe even some baby talk with the little one is acceptable. But, grabbing a baby’s hand and patting her head or rubbing her back should be outside the realm of okay for complete strangers. And I know I am being sexist here, but this is especially not okay with me if you are a man.

Let me explain what I mean. Over the weekend we went to dinner with a large group in a smallish restaurant. The baby and the rest of my children were next to me on one end of the table. An older gentleman sitting at another table came over and talked to the baby. Not to me, but the 15-month-old. He complimented her pretty dress and called her a princess. Then he took her hand, shook it and rubbed her head. He called her sweet. He then turned his attention to AD, who is six and is one of those kids who has never met a stranger. He asked for a high-five and then said let me teach you how to shake hands and told him to stand up. He shook his hand and then proceeded to encourage him to wiggle and shake his whole body in a sort of “silly handshake.” Then he spoke to my five-year-old daughter B, who is the shy one. He got a high-five from her, but she wasn’t about to get up and do anything at his request (good girl).

On the outside I smiled. On the inside I was creeped out. Is this strange? Am I too overprotective? I didn’t know this man who was being so friendly with my children and it made my skin crawl. My instincts, which I believe in trusting, told me that something was off with this man. Sure enough I caught him staring at my children at many different intervals throughout the night. He got up to pass us multiple times and each time gave bunny ears or made a silly face to my children.

Again, I smiled on the outside. On the inside, I thought about punching him. I’m not a violent person. But, he really got my blood boiling for some reason. I did not like his vibe. But, I kept my thoughts to myself.

Toward the end of the dinner, the baby was getting extremely fussy, so I said my goodbyes to everyone and told my husband I’d wait for him in the car as he waited for the check to be paid. I gathered our things and headed for the car with the baby when I turned around to see my husband following us out. I asked him why he was walking us to the car and he told me that he wanted to make sure the creepy guy from the other table didn’t follow me.

I hadn’t told him how I felt. I didn’t think he was even paying attention. But he knew. He must have felt it too. We laughed at our joint paranoia, but also felt that in our paranoia there must have been some truth. I was all at once grateful to have my feelings justified and to be married to someone who is connected enough with me and his internal voice to understand (swoon).

So, how would you handle this situation? Would you have politely smiled on the outside and cringed on the inside like I did? Would you have said something and/or made a scene? Are you comfortable with strangers approaching and touching your children? Am I just ridiculous?

Please leave me a comment below or join the discussion on the Tiny Steps Mommy Facebook page.

Yes, I’m a Fantasy Football Wife (Part 2)

This blog post is Part 2 in a two-part series.

A little more than a week ago I confessed to being a Fantasy Football Wife (FFW) and the response was incredible.

The sisterhood of FFWs is real and it is growing by the day. Just yesterday, I checked Google Analytics and was interested to see that the top search engine terms directing traffic to TinyStepsMommy.com were all related to Fantasy Football. Here are three real and unaltered phrases people used to find my blog:

“how many hours does your husband spend on fantasy football” 

“how many wives are ok with husbands spending a weekend at a fantasy football draft”

how to be supportive of fantasy football”

My good friend who works at CustomInk.com even shared a t-shirt design in honor of this sacred club and it is starting to go viral.

You can create or order your own FFW shirt at CustomInk.com.

Apparently, spouses everywhere are freaking out as their partner’s teams are being drafted and finalized for the start of the NFL season on September 5, 2012.

So, what do we do? Spend 17 weeks every year rolling our eyes? Do we go crazy wondering why our husbands insist on watching multiple games at once while biting their fingernails?

No. We do the opposite. We embrace the craziness and take back Sundays for ourselves.

Here is the plan. Always start by offering a carrot. I suggest gifting your Fantasy fanatic with a nicely wrapped collection of Fantasy magazines. Yes, there are entire magazines developed for the fantasy football devotees. To me it is a collection of endless numbers and abbreviations I can’t decode. To the Fantasy fanatic it is gold. It gives career statistics and projected numbers on players representing every position. It gives recommendations on draft picks and endless lists of who is hot and who is not.

Once you have given this peace offering, you need to set the ground rules for the season. For me, I have come to terms with the fact that my husband likes to sit and watch endless games on Sundays. I know that unless it is an important family function, I will not convince him that Sunday would be a great time to go apple picking, or to go to the community festival down the street. Our family activities have to be scheduled on Saturdays or on Sundays before kick-off at 1 pm, EST.

I used to fight about it every week. I used to resent the whole thing. Until I realized that if he is home on Sunday, then he can stay home with our children while I have some me time. So, this is the deal we created. The compromise I am suggesting to all the FFWs. Let your spouse sit on his butt in front of the television all day long. Do not nag or complain about it, as long as he doesn’t complain when you leave the house without the children for some well-deserved alone time. Yes, you are reading this right. In my house, football Sunday is when my husband cares for all four of our children all day long, while I get my nails done, shop without the whining of little ones asking for a toy or special treat, and meet friends for lunch. I have reclaimed Sunday.

In fact, I got so good at this compromise that last year I woke up every Sunday looking forward to the day. I made breakfast for the family and then depending on the weather and/or schedule, would take the kids to the playground or to some local event early. Then I would put the baby to sleep for an afternoon nap and get in my car to leave for several uninterrupted hours alone. 

Do I enjoy hearing my husband’s long-winded phone conversations and arguments about trading players and his oh so important keeper league, which is a fantasy football league that allows you to keep a certain number of players from one year to the next? (BTW, I hate that I know this). Absolutely not.

Do I think his time and efforts would be better served elsewhere? Of course.

Do I think his devotion to this activity is ridiculous and childish? Yes, at times.

But, do I think it is my job to stifle his interests and make him quit? No, not at all. This is his hobby and passion. It makes him happy and is harmless.

Marriage and all relationships are about balance. I accept my role as a FFW. I embrace it. I laugh about it and roll my eyes all the time. But, the truth is, I don’t always hate it. Sometimes (and I can’t believe I’m admitting this) I think it is cute how ridiculous my husband and his brothers and friends are about this dorky activity. I mean they actually argue with straight faces about which friend is “colluding” to stack their team. They have intense negotiations about trades and they sometimes forget the “Fantasy” part of what they are doing.

But, if it wasn’t Fantasy Football, I’m sure it would be something else driving me crazy. How would I feel if my husband was a hard core Trekkie that wore fake ears in public? Or a renaissance re-enactor that refused to shower? I’m not sure, but I don’t think I  could simply compromise my problem away by leaving the kids at home, while I shopped. Now then, there might be a real problem.

To continue the discussion please leave a comment or join me on the Tiny Steps Mommy Facebook page.

In case you missed it, here is: “Yes, I’m a Fantasy Football Wife (Part 1)”