Charlie has recently decided that 5am is an awesome time to wake up and given how utterly knackered I (we) are, I’m hoping Mr Chick forgives the card I gave him – which just happened to wish him a ‘Happy 1st Father’s Day’. It’s actually his second Father’s Day… on his first one, we left the hospital after a five day stay and brought a teeny-tiny Charlie Bear home. But we were both a bit shell-shocked, as new parents often are, so no wonder I’d thought this was his first.
Of course, bringing your son home on Father’s Day isn’t a bad present, as things go. The sort of thing you never, ever forget (even if your wife manages to; good thing we’ve got photo evidence of the event on the left).
A friend once told me that bringing your newborn home and getting used to having a baby in the house, adjusting to becoming three, was quite a romantic time. I didn’t know how having a baby in the house with all the nappies and crying and breastfeeding dramas could be at ALL romantic, but surprisingly, it was. I remember Charlie being SO small and sleeping on the bed between us, those first few days at home, with his little blue pom-pom hat askew on his little head. We marvelled over him. We watched him and stroked his lovely tiny hands. We drank endless cups of tea and we even read the paper. He slept so much back then. He was so squidgy cute. We tentatively joked about how easy it was.
Fast forward a year on, and of course, we know the truth. It hasn’t been easy, but in between getting to grips with parenthood and figuring out the crying and the sleeping and the swaddling and the bathing and the jabs and how he’d freak out for hours after socialising… and of course the delirious sleep debt we still carry with us and add to every week and can’t quite shake, parenthood has been all shades of incredible, too.
Now he’s one, watching our little guy’s funny, cheeky personality emerge is the most special thing I’ve ever experienced in my life. Other parents tell you that; of course they do, but it’s not until you’re in it yourself that you really know what they mean and how much your heart can expand to love something and someone SO much. It was kind of the same thing for me watching Mr Chick as a parent.
It’s something I wasn’t sure would ever happen, so every time he picks up a whingey Charlie or goes and cuddles him in the dark when he wakes or has lost his dummy, or reads him a pigeon book for the 27th time, I get warm fuzzies. It’s the same when I watch Charlie crawling to his dad to get his attention or hug his leg and know he’ll always pick him up and kiss him and cuddle him or tickle his tummy to make him giggle. There are nights Charlie’s slept in between us, and I’ve woken to find he’s crawled from my side over to his dad’s and is curled up with him like there’s nowhere he’d rather be, a look of pure baby contentment on his face. He may only be a year old, but our bubba knows he’s pretty much hit the jackpot in the good dad department.
So Happy Father’s Day to my lovely husband. I hope the ‘I love my dad very very very much’ mug isn’t too cheesy. I’m sure if Charlie could talk, he’d tell you himself.
Linking up with #IBOT to Essentially Jess.