Father's Day sexy

I’ve read it. I’ve seen it. I’ve felt it. Motherhood… with the spit up, lack of sleep, squirting boobs, and toddlers that awaken from their restful slumber at the first utterance of the words… “Do ya wanna…. (wink wink?).”  Parenthood is not often described as SEXY. But since I rejoice in random, pointless debates, let me take the underdog stance here and proclaim parenthood to be damn sexy. Moreover, let me assert, Father’s Day is sexy in our house, and one of my favorite holidays by far.

Maybe it’s watching my husband do something he is simply a DadBoss at…  Perhaps it’s the challenge of carving out moments of intimacy…  Or it could even be because now we have to actually plan romantic dates so we HAVE TO make the most of them. On this note, present me laughs at past me and the concept of “date nights.” Our entire courtship and marriage was a date night pre-beasts.

But truth be told, I have never wanted to jump on top of my husband more than when he is holding our baby boy or dancing with our sweet daughter. What can I say? I’ve always loved a good challenge, and parenthood and intimacy… Well it can be challenging to say the least.

Watching my husband become a father has deepened my passion for him in ways I never expected. It reminds me of when I first saw my husband do a two-finger pull up. Or when he first fixed my computer crisis (the first of many… I touch them, they break)… And then when he created a program on his computer to say “I love you, Krista”…  He even baked me a delicious pumpkin pie from scratch. Bottom line. When you see your partner do something they are amazing at, and uncover these hidden talents, it is soooo HOT. 

So I married the Jack of all Trades. In fact, I am not entirely sure exactly what I bring to this relationship. But that said, there is no skill, hidden talent, or endeavor that my husband does better than father our children. He is simply amazing.

Of course it can be hard to find quality time with one another when you are in the throes of parenting young children. In our house these young children happen to be two, two and under, and NEEDY. My husband walks through the door, and it is game on (Not in thaaaat way). No I mean, one cooks, the other cleans-sorta, both of us multi-tasking with at least one little one that is either screaming, yelling, laughing, or crying.

There are days when we crawl into bed, look at each other, and realize we haven’t even spoken to each other that day. (Well other than yelling across the house, “Hey babe, eyes on baby? Big bit is engaging in life threatening (hers and mine) behavior again…” or something of that nature.) And when we do try to sit down and have an actual adult conversation, it goes something like, “Hey so I was looking into those two vacation options…” “Mamma Mamma Mamma Mamma Mamma carry me. FOOOOOOD. Not THAT FOOOD!!!! Daddy hug hug HUG!!!”  

But who are we kidding? We melt at the demanding incessant calls for affection from our littles.  When Chad and I hug, our tiny tot calls for “group hug” and clings to us. We sweep over and grab baby Henry, and for a moment we are so cute even I want to puke. Haha let’s be real though… These are moments. Most of our interruptions aren’t that cute, and may even involve actual verbal and physical assaults by tot.  

Nonetheless, when 9 PM roles around, and both littles are FINALLY in bed, I find myself insanely missing my husband even though he has been home for three hours.  

But that is OK because there he is at the end of the chaos and the craziness. And we can finally exhale together, and have this small moment to laugh about our day. We don’t have a lot of time to fight anymore. We are just too busy.  Shoot—We are too busy to even really make each other THAT mad either. 

You see, Chad and I married a little later in life, so we busily hopped on the baby train, and I popped out two kids under two within 3 years of marriage.  So sometimes I feel like we technically did everything wrong. Everyone says take all the time together first. That you need to travel together. Court longer. Have a solid relationship before even thinking about having children. All very solid sound advice! Well, we did none of these things. 

And irony of all ironies, though I am quite the over-thinker about well pretty much EVERYTHING. I didn’t overthink any of the things I probably should of. We dated for about 5 months, got engaged, married, went through one interstate move, took new jobs, made a house purchase twice, birthed kids, and bamn, just celebrated three years this March. 

Funny thing is it feels like a lifetime ago that we said “I do.” On paper it sounds like a recipe for disaster. But for whatever reason, for us, this worked. We never even had a chance for a honeymoon and this year will be the first time we take a REAL vacation together “just us.”

But I have no regrets. We dove right in, and we are drinking up every second of chaos. A little over a year after we met, I was married and pregnant. Point?  I mostly know my husband as a father. There wasn’t much of a “before” to our story, and this made way for a complex and rich passion. 

Fatherhood (and motherhood) has not erased our identities, rather enhanced them. By extension, the intimacy I feel with my husband is only amplified by his role as a father. In this way, I cannot help but think of parenthood as hot, and Father’s Day is sexy. So in our house, forget Valentine’s Day, Father’s Day is where IT IS AT. Now if my toddler would just erase her super-sonic selective sensory hearing, we would be all set. 😉


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