On Father’s Day weekend, we always have dual celebrations for the dads in our life and Chloe’s birthday. By Sunday night we are completely exhausted, and we can’t imagine it any other way.
But, this post is not about Father’s Day. It’s about Drew.
This man is perfection to me. Sure he makes mistakes like any parent (Oliver toppled off the sofa last night… oops), but he has so many more wins. In all the little moments of our day-to-day family life, Drew is there. He tickles little toes, makes lunches, combs hair into ponytails, washes clothes, builds closet organizers, buys groceries, reads storybooks, changes diapers, brushes little teeth, sings songs, draws bubble baths, gives cuddles, and kisses his wife most every chance he gets. This afternoon, he watched Sesame Street instead of the U.S. Open. This is the man I married. Many women I know married men — fathers — like Drew. Lucky us.
I head out tomorrow to a photography workshop in SoCal (more on that next week.) When I talked to Drew about signing up for it, I wanted to hash out our schedule, figure out who could help with what and how I could make it work. He wasn’t interested in talking about any of that. He just said, “If you want to go, then buy your ticket. Don’t worry about us.” So I leave tomorrow morning, and Drew is going to be a single parent with three kids for a week. Unlike me, he is perfectly relaxed about it. But that’s not why I love him.