Renaissance Man

My mom lays claim to the title "Renaissance Man". It is what she calls my husband. It's true. I don't know how I got so lucky. In this modern day, men still often play the role of provider and part time dad. And so many of those part time dads only do the fun stuff. Take them to a movie, a park, play in the back yard. My Renaissance Man does it all. Sorry to brag ladies, but it's true. I sometimes feel ashamed that I depend on him so much. I feel I should be more, do more. I should be able to handle a day like yesterday - which was a constant mom/2 year old power struggle, and I mean CONSTANT - without losing my temper and without disappearing completely when Daddy gets home. Is it fair that he works all day with 6th graders - yes, 6TH GRADERS- and comes home to Crazy Eyes 3 or 4 times a week? Is it fair that I get a free pass to go to the gym, or where ever, every night while he does duty? I don't know, but some days I feel like I take advantage. I really admire those moms who, although they would like a break, can survive without one and still raise admirable kids.

We're nearing the end of my maternity leave and, again, I'm realizing I NEED to work. I am so grateful to work part time so I can be more than a shadow in my kids lives. BUT I NEED to work. We're not talking financial need here. We're talking sanity. I love my kids so much and MAN do I love spending time with them. But when mommy doesn't do things to make her feel like a complete person, Mommy is NOT a good Mommy. Does that make me a Bad Mommy? I guess while married to Mr. Renaissance, it's ok. We balance each other out. How did I get so lucky? He fills in my gaps and I his. Here are some examples:

-He loses the pacifier for the 500th time today, I always know where a spare is.

-I have crazy eyes when he walks in the door, he immediately takes the baby from my arms and redirects Piper while sending me out the door before my head starts to spin.

-I set out meat for dinner with no idea what we'll do with it, he turns it into Chicken Fajitas.

-He wakes up late, yet again, and I begrudgingly get out of bed even though the baby is actually sleeping in to help get Piper ready (even though it's "his job") so they can get out the door. I don't do this graciously. Grumbling occurs. (I am so spoiled.)

I'm leaving with the girls next week to Arizona and as I was looking in the fridge today in preparation for my (seems like) daily trip to the grocery store the thought went through my mind, "I'm not going to get milk because the milk drinkers will be gone, but I should get stuff for Brooks to eat next week". The next thought was "He can go to the store and get what he wants for himself." I think I get so worn out taking care of the kids that I forget that, although he doesn't need or expect it, it would probably feel nice to Brooks to be taken care of once in awhile. But the difference between Brooks and Non-Renaissance men is that he'd agree that he can go to the store on his own and wouldn't want me to worry about it.

So despite the guilt I feel when other moms I know talk about the beautiful dinners they make for their husbands, or the arts and crafts projects they do with their kids all while maintaining beautiful, clean, germ-free households, I know our kids will turn out ok because we are a team. Together we make it work. I can be who I am, and part of that is being an ok mom, because Brooks is the amazing man/husband/father that he is. And it's ok if the house is a mess for a few more years. Brooks will get to it eventually. :)