This year I turned thirty. We had a huge party with friends and family and laughed as we reminisced on my twenties and looked ahead to what my thirties would bring.
Just kidding. That imaginary party does sound pretty fun though, right? The truth is, when I turned thirty, I was two weeks postpartum and feeling tired, fat and sad. Tired from watching my two-year-old run circles around me, fat from feeling like I wasn’t “bouncing back” quick enough and sad because birthdays just aren’t quite as celebratory as they used to be.
On my birthday, my husband arranged for my in-laws to watch the kids while we went out to dinner, followed by a surprise to one of those wine and painting classes (if you haven’t tried them, it’s pretty fun!). Unsurprisingly, the place was full of women; moms enjoying a wild and crazy Tuesday night out with their girlfriends. Honestly, I was just excited to be out of the house and drinking wine (again, finally!) that I didn’t really think about the conversation going on around us until the next day. The main topic of their conversation, simply stated, was their idiot husbands.
I’m not saying that I’m innocent by any means when it comes to this conversation topic. I have found myself judging my husband in my head or talking poorly of him to others in the way he does things when it comes to our kids. How dare he pack our two-year-old Easy Mac for lunch when there are perfectly good leftovers in the fridge? Gasp! Couldn’t he read my mind about what I already planned for his lunch in my head? How could he possibly think that this blue shirt he grabbed out of the drawer goes with these black shorts I already packed? Double gasp!
These ladies had similar gripes in terms of their husbands not knowing how to help with homework, what to pack for after-school activities or the amount of lunch money needed. While I agree that all of this is important, it’s not the end of the world if it’s not 100% how we mothers would have done it.
While I may not always like the way my husband does these small things, I completely, no questions asked, trust him with my kids’ lives. I can only assume that these other women feel the same way; otherwise, they wouldn’t be able to have these fun nights out, away from their day-to-day responsibilities.
When I’m not around, my children’s basic needs are always met. They’re fed, clothed, clean and genuinely happy. Honestly, I can actually admit that they probably have more fun with my husband. He wasn’t nicknamed Good Time Daddy (GTD for short!) by my family for no reason. Overall, he truly is an amazing father. Does it really matter that he doesn’t do everything the same way that I would?
My request for all moms out there is pretty basic: let’s cut our husbands some slack. For me, it’s about letting go of my Type A and OCD tendencies. It’s about realizing that my kids generally don’t care what they’re eating for lunch (as long as it’s not a repeat of yesterday’s meal, because my toddler loves chicken one day and loathes it the next- how dare we!). And, I can for sure say that my boys definitely don’t care if their clothes match. Let’s all just appreciate our husbands for the great things that they do and while we may still think they are idiotic at times (because, it’s inevitable), where would we be without them?
