An Open Letter To My ChildrenRebekah Kuschmider
I am going to say something here that is going to shock you: your daddy is also my husband.
I KNOW. You’re stunned. You were of the impression that the tall handsome man who lives here exists soley for purposes of Lego construction projects and 5am cuddling to let Mommy sleep a bit more. Sometimes he serves as story reader and stroller pusher and picker-upper of pizza when Mommy is too frazzled to cook. And he does all of that with dedication and style. He is a rockin’ Daddy and I know you both adore him.
But long before he was fetcher of juice boxes or changer of diapers, he was my partner.
We shared roadtrips to football games, dinners is restaurants with real tablecloths, romantic evenings at home with wine and old episodes of Entourage, and even one memorable trip to Venice. We had all kinds of fun.
Is it any wonder that I’m just as excited as you are to see him walk through the door after work every day? And is it any wonder that I miss him when the hustle and bustle of our daily lives mean we pass each other for only a moment as we hand off responsibility for one child or another?
We both love you insensibly, kids. We do. And nothing gives me greater pleasure than seeing Daddy helping my big boy with a puzzle or getting big baby grins from my little girl. But can you relinquish him for a little while so I can get my turn? I want my hug and kiss, too. And I want it before we launch into dinner and playtime and bedtime routines. Because after that, he and I only have enough energy to pass the remote back and forth as we select tv shows to watch before bed.
So, children, I beg of you, just give me a second after Daddy comes home and reconnects with both of you. Just long enough for me to get a snuggle of my own in the mix. Maybe soon we can negotiate for something bigger, like maybe you two agreeing to stay with a sitter so Daddy and I can go out on our own but for now, for today, I just need to kiss my husband.
Photo credit: photo stock
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