We’ve had a good week, with the highlight being a little drive up to Dartmoor to find some snow as Polly hasn’t experienced this joy yet. By the time we arrived most of it had melted but the little patches that were left were greatly enjoyed by our wellied toddler. We do love a drive up there especially on a day like that as it was so clear and there were plenty of animals to point out to Polly.
As it’s been a fairly typical week I thought I’d touch on a subject that is close to my heart. This isn’t some big rant or big declaration- hopefully not anyway! But I was chatting to one of my Mummy friends the other day and she asked what kind of a dad Henry was. This got me thinking about what kind of dad he actually is and I thought I’d dedicate a little post to him seen as he has actually started reading the occasion blog post.
I was honest with her and said that it maybe took him a little while to find his groove with parenting but that was probably due to the fact that he was pulling 14 hour days and never had a chance to do much solo parenting. I just want to state that at no point would I have described him as a bad dad, our life just meant he wasn’t getting the chance to let out his full dad potential. That has obviously changed big time over the last few months but now I find myself looking back at all the moments from when Polly first burst into our lives and I have a confession. He was actually doing a lot better job than I realised. Not only was he providing for his family, especially as I took more time off than expected, but also for all the little things. Even that decision when I broke down in tears and told him I wasn’t ready to leave Polly in nursery, he was amazing. He completely supported this choice and told me we would make it work- which we did.
Henry was the one who got her dressed for the first time when I was having my moment after delivery. He took her on her first car journey to meet me at Exeter hospital, doing the first family introduction along the way. He changed her first nappy while I was having stitches. He had the first projectile poo incident fired his way during one of those early nappy changes. He was the one who drove to big Tesco in the middle of the night when we ran out of nappies and then got up 4 hours later to go and do one of those 14 hour days. Yes, he might dress her in some questionable outfits sometimes (honestly boy I’m still baffled by the top and pink tights combo!), he doesn’t understand the concept of a laundry basket and he snores like a bear, but he does so much more to make up for this. He takes her to groups and to the park and actually enjoys doing it. He goes food shopping every Sunday morning while I work and takes Polly along for the fun. He introduced her to hot chocolate froth and pillow fights. He always takes her down the big slides at soft play. He makes her laugh. He taught her to play throw and catch (well throw and chase). He drove to the Lake District and back in one day so Polly and I didn’t miss out on a big family holiday even though he couldn’t make the whole holiday himself. He introduced her to Postman Pat. He dances with her. He has passed on a love of and caring nature for animals. He spent his last birthday at soft play because he wanted to take her and go down those big slides. He taught her to hop while we read her bedtime story of Guess how much I love you. He introduced the concept of a ‘Heart’ (radio) party in the evening to tire her out before bed.
And for all this and so much more, I am so thankful. Thankful I married a ‘good egg’. He is a great dad, like many others out there and the bond him and Polly have honestly brings a tear to my eye (not just because I’m pregnant!). I’m proud of him and the dad he’s become. I’m not really sure if there is a big message I’m trying to get across here (it sort of did accidently become one of ‘those’ posts even though I said it wouldn’t) but I feel like taking a moment to just salute all the good dads out there, all those ‘good eggs’ and to say thank you as I know I for one couldn’t do it without my partner in crime.