{week 26 of pleasant plumpness}
Jon, last night: "I better get a mention in your blog about how awesome I am."
Despite my urge to immediately delete all indications of said awesomeness after that comment, he really does deserve a number of mentions. Plus I had already written most of what's below.
It's not like I didn't already know Jon was excited about being a dad. I mean, anyone who speaks to us on a regular basis probably understands that he was ready for the job at least 5 years ago. But lately he has taken to what I call "man-nesting." Symptoms of which are, as I've noted:
1. Concern for me and baby at an all-time high. He about jumps out of his skin if a dog approaches my belly, will not allow me to lift or move anything over 7 lbs, rolls me over in my sleep if I happen to end up on my back, and will not eat my leftovers because I am apparently supposed to stuff them into my overly-full self "for the baby." When I disclosed that my back was hurting shortly after the move, he took to giving me little standing back-rubs and helping me up and down without my asking. And he's offered up his Prilosec and Rolaids on a number of occasions when I think I might have heartburn (though it is almost surely not as bad as his). He also quietly dodges my hormone-induced freakout sessions (the most recent of which involved a missing sweet & sour sauce in my [rather un]happy meal), and definitely does not jump at the chance to tell that embarrassing story to any and everyone we encounter ...
2. Banker-Jon in full effect. He goes in early, stays late, and has generally been working himself ragged trying to earn more money in preparation for baby time (and the 2 or so months that I'll be out of work for baby time). He even told me he felt this was his way of nesting, as it is the only thing he knows to do. This symptom should also include his tireless efforts to find us the perfect new home, rent out our old home and make sure our other properties are productive enough to help pay for daycare. Honestly, this is like IT for me. Being able to sleep at night knowing we should (fingers crossed!) have the means to pay for childcare and put a roof over our heads is huge. (Yes, Jon, that makes you awesome).
3. Above-average level of interest in certain things baby. After a long day at FLS scoping out beds and kid-related furniture, we crumpled into the car and before I lost consciousness I heard Jon say, "That was fun... I enjoyed that." He had a major hand in picking out the bedding, insisted that the nursery contain pink, and practically dragged me to register for the major items at Babies R Us (which I actually think he enjoys frequenting). We attended babyclass together, and he even endured the b-feeding seminar (where he at least kept the childish giggling to a minimum). He was quite amused with our "amazingly lifelike" stand-in, especially when we happened to pick her up separately in both classes:
(don't ask me what happened to her head; let's just call it an unfortunate birthmark)
4. Taking over my tasks. Obviously, I'm not completely helpless. And most of the time, I'm fine to do all of the things I do on a normal, everyday basis even while pregnant. But I have recently noticed how Jon has taken to getting up early in the mornings to feed and let the dogs out. This blessedly allows me to sleep a little longer, and prevents me from having to stumble after Hannahbelle the wild animal while she does her business. In the first trimester, he would often make dinner and do the cleaning up because I was too tired. He was and is happy to carry all my bags (aside from the light groceries and pillows I insist on being able to carry myself). As I mentioned, he packed up most of our old house while I was gone and did a ton of the moving alone. And the first night we stayed in our new house, Jon called me upstairs to find him sprawled out in the tub with the jets on (this was just hilarious to me because he has never to my knowledge voluntarily taken a tub when not sick, and I just pictured myself coming home from work one night and discovering him in the bath with candles, music and bubbles - none of which were present this time I should state). So I guess he's gone ahead and started taking baths for me, too, since I'm not supposed to do so. Nice.
5. Enter Mr. Fix-It. Jon has also become my very own handyman. I'm not sure how he acquired these skills, but all of a sudden fans and fixtures are switched out, hardware is replaced and dimmer lights are going in like nobody's business. My bathroom sink was draining a little slowly when we first moved in, and Jon took it apart and unclogged it himself. He's painted the nursery, put up beadboard and assembled baby furniture (with help from the dads and Kay), and even put up shelving in the garage. There's a possibility this all started back when our toilet wouldn't stop running on Eagle and Heidi was the one who figured out how to fix it. I think he made a vow that very day to out-man her. But no matter what the impetus, I have to say I am loving HandyJon.
--
So sweetie, I hope I haven't left out too much (because I'm sure there's more, and I'm sure you'll remind me of it if and when you read this blog).
Of course I know you'll make the most amazing father I could ever hope for. But maybe I need to tell you more often. I am profoundly honored and grateful that you picked me to be the mother of your child(ren). It's pretty amazing to know you're in this with me 110%. Clearly, marrying you was one of the smartest things I've ever done (and I'm pretty smart ;)
In all seriousness, though, you are the first thing I thank God for when I pray. There would be no baby without you. I don't even know how I got so lucky to find you on pretty much the first try! Thank you for making me feel like I can do this (with a little help). I love you just as much.
No comments:
Post a Comment