Very soon after my wife Molly returned to work, I realized that chances are quite good that she will miss some of our daughter’s milestones. First time sitting up. First time doing sit-ups. First time putting a pacifier in her mouth without poking herself in the eye.
I also realized that chances are good that I will not miss these things, because I work from home. That presents somewhat of an untraditional disequilibrium in my air jordan 6 marriage. (Perhaps even more than our polarized dancing abilities do.)
Just a generation or two ago, fathers were routinely in the position of missing out on many of their children’s developmental milestones. If my grandfather were still alive, I would ask if that bothered him. But I don’t have to ask my wife — I know for sure it would bother her, perhaps the most caring person in the world.
And that leaves me with a dilemma: How will I handle that? If I trumpet the accomplishment across email, text or instant message, will my wife feel shorted or sad for not having been able to witness the event? If I lie by omission and allow her to believe that all the “first times” miraculously occurred in her presence, would that make me a bad husband, or a good one, or a little bit of both?
I have visions of running interference with my daughter’s development. I can see myself nine months from now glimpsing from the corner of my eye: She is standing and about to take her first step, and I run to push her over. “Sorry, sweetheart, tricks like that have to wait until Mommy comes home.” She’ll end up not being able to walk until she’s 9 years old because I’ll have consistently traumatized her from trying. She’ll end up wearing diapers until 4, not because she’ll be air jordan 4.5 femmes peeing herself but because she’ll need the cushioning on her bum.
In this age of predominantly two-income households, Molly and I are lucky that even one of us is home, otherwise a daycare stranger would be the first to see our baby poke herself in the eye. However, … Oops, she just did it. Please don’t tell.