Let me be clear. My husband and I are a team. He’s not helping me by being a parent. But he takes the lead in the morning so I can sleep in. So that I can start off slow when he knows the rest of my day will be fast. He brings me a hot cup of coffee along with a plate of hot food and insists I sit and sip it. He knows that, without his instructions to sit, I would begin the day running and I’m better running after a hot cup of coffee.
My days are filled with toddler fits and begging little humans to put on pants.
So he gives me the mornings and makes lunches and packs backpacks. While I sleep. He manages the requests of red bowl, blue cup for breakfast. He defuses bickering of “he’s looking at me” at the breakfast table so I don’t have to.
My days are filled with spills and tears, and requests, and no personal space.
So he gives me the mornings and walks our son to the bus stop every morning so I can continue enjoying the small spurts of quiet left in the house before the chaos of the day begins. He makes sure teeth are brushed and hair is combed.
My days are filled with loud and cleaning up lunch just in time for the mess of dinner.
So he gives me the mornings and shuts doors softly and reminds the kids of their inside voices because mommy is resting. He cleans up from breakfasts, packs the snacks, and water bottles for the day. He makes sure shoes are tied and jackets are on. He makes sure library books and binders are back in the backpacks.
It may not look like much, one hour of slow, but it helps me begin the day on a much better note. I may be running on empty by bedtime, but he gives me the mornings so I can begin each day on full. Because we’re a team, he gives the gift of no alarm set, knowing he’s got it covered.
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