Singing the Praises of Stephen
Asher wanted to write his daddy a letter to wish him a happy Father's Day, but pretty much the only words that came out of his mouth were, "Pshlurrrrrb aye aye aye GAK! Dwerdle glurb." I'll be honest - I really don't speak Baby very fluently, not even after studying it for the past few months nonstop. I began to write a letter for him, but we both decided that would come off as extremely cheesy. So, we'll wait until his vocabulary builds just a touch before we go having any posts directly from Asher on here. In the interim, I can speak on what a wonderful partner in parenting I have.
He's not afraid of baby poop. That, to me, is like the sexiest thing in all of the world. Screw good looks, intelligence, money, success...give me a man who isn't opposed to changing a few dirty diapers. He will stay up late to rock Asher to sleep so that I can go to bed. There were times in the early post-birth days in which I would call him while he was at work, an absolute wreck, and he would come home to give me relief and reassurance. He's been by my side from me puking during labor to the recovery period, when he had to not only help me to the toilet, but also help clean me up afterwards. He's comforted me during my depression, and laughed with me during all of Asher's peeing and pooping mishaps. He's made me feel pretty when I was hugely pregnant with Asher, when I was an unshowered, unkempt, flannel-pajamas-wearing wreck that month after I had Asher, and even now with my deflated boobs and unshaven legs. He's catered to my every need and suffered all my mood swings, and doesn't even demand sex from me. He's worked nonstop for us, and he's stayed home for us.
He truly is the glue that keeps us together, and we would fall apart without him.
Happy first Father's Day, Stephen. Despite all my nagging, complaints, and criticism, you honestly are the best father I could ever want for my child. I'm blessed to have you as my husband, and Asher is blessed to have you as his daddy. We love you so much, and I hope you realize how important you are, both to me and your little buddy.
He's not afraid of baby poop. That, to me, is like the sexiest thing in all of the world. Screw good looks, intelligence, money, success...give me a man who isn't opposed to changing a few dirty diapers. He will stay up late to rock Asher to sleep so that I can go to bed. There were times in the early post-birth days in which I would call him while he was at work, an absolute wreck, and he would come home to give me relief and reassurance. He's been by my side from me puking during labor to the recovery period, when he had to not only help me to the toilet, but also help clean me up afterwards. He's comforted me during my depression, and laughed with me during all of Asher's peeing and pooping mishaps. He's made me feel pretty when I was hugely pregnant with Asher, when I was an unshowered, unkempt, flannel-pajamas-wearing wreck that month after I had Asher, and even now with my deflated boobs and unshaven legs. He's catered to my every need and suffered all my mood swings, and doesn't even demand sex from me. He's worked nonstop for us, and he's stayed home for us.
He truly is the glue that keeps us together, and we would fall apart without him.
Happy first Father's Day, Stephen. Despite all my nagging, complaints, and criticism, you honestly are the best father I could ever want for my child. I'm blessed to have you as my husband, and Asher is blessed to have you as his daddy. We love you so much, and I hope you realize how important you are, both to me and your little buddy.
2 comments:
It's honestly not very hard when you love and believe in your family.
I couldn't ask for a better wife and son.
I love you both very much!
The two sweetest boys that ever drew breath!
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