Sean often comes home at bedtime, which is the worst time to come home. And I don’t mean almost bedtime where we’re maybe still in the playroom or just finishing dinner. I mean mid-bath or mid-book. Mid-bath is easier. Mid-book is tough. Wes will spring from my lap to watch Daddy come up the stairs. So much excitement! Such delight and laughter as he screams “Dada!” Then Dada is right there asking for a hug and a kiss, and Wes cries. He doesn’t know how to process this much excitement and this much exhaustion. It’s a lot for a small human who isn’t able to articulate all the emotions (and does that ever happen to a person anyway? We just get better at not outright crying, right? Or put a hashtag on it: #allthefeels).
And these are the only 10-15 minutes Sean gets with Wes during a typical weekday.
But Sean’s really patient through those tears because he knows that on the weekends he is king. That he’s the most interesting person in the house on the weekends. To be fair, “dada” is the first word out of Wes’s mouth most mornings, but on weekends it’s either dada getting him up or me explaning that dada is just in the other room. And when the response is that dada’s just in the other room, there’s a pause to process, and then the biggest smile. “He’s here!”
I know Sean’s not the only dad (or only parent for that matter) that wakes up this early or has little time with their child on the weekdays. But how things here in our house compare to others doesn’t take away from the fact that it’s hard on Sean. And he handles it so well. Makes the most of his weekend time and doesn’t complain.
Thanks, Sean, dada, for working so hard for us. For being so patient when we don’t see us (and I do mean us) at our best time of day, which is most days. For being so fun. For being so patient. For being such a good dad. We love you.
PS – I know that’s a weird picture to end on, but our child ate a fried oyster. Yes, he liked the batter more than the oyster, but the oyster was consumed!