Categories
Loading
Welcome to Babble,
Settings
Sign Out

Get the Babble Newsletter!

Already have an account? .

Reminding Myself That Daddy Isn’t the Babysitter.

Daddy Isn't the Babysitter.This past weekend, I flew out to Indianapolis for The Influence Conference. For the nearly 4 full days I was gone, my husband had our nearly 4-year-old daughter Bella all to himself. I think I texted him 3 times the entire weekend. That was all.

However, this would have never happened a few years ago when I started attending blog conferences. I was convinced that unless I left a list, clothing out, made food, and called/Skyped/texted repeatedly the world would end. Some women do this because they love to see what’s going on and miss their family. That was a small part of it for me.

Mostly it was just me being a control freak when I called.

This time I left; I ordered a Schwans home delivery for food, I washed and put away the clothes, and that was it. The more times I do this, the more confident I becoming in knowing my husband isn’t a babysitter. He’s the other parent.

Does he do everything the way I would? There is a resounding no. In fact, sometimes I come home slightly twitchy seeing just how much different things have been handled.

The car was scraped down the side by a cart cage in the parking lot. 

Bella ate a kid’s chocolate Cliff bar for breakfast every morning. 

The neighbor’s 6-year-old was given $100 for her birthday because Sam worried a stuffed animal wasn’t good enough.

It was returned this morning by a very concerned mom who wanted to know if we knew it was $100. 

I wanted to fall through the floor. 

The house smelled of some unknown citrusy odor we later discovered was the compost container not being emptied. 

BUT.

They were happy. He and Bella formed their own little routine. She was safe and clean, the house was picked up, he took care of all the mishaps before I got home, and they were both thrilled to see me. Life continued here at a normal pace. I had to remind myself that this would have happened with me here as well, only I would have been messing things up right along with it all. My husband has never called from work to make sure I’m taking care of everything at home to his standards.

I’ve learned in 6 conferences and 3 years that when I’m gone, this time is for my daughter to truly get to know her father in a way many children don’t. I’m so thankful my husband would even want to do that. It makes my time away guilt-free and their time even more special. He isn’t the babysitter – and he shouldn’t have me treat him like one.

 

Diana blogs at Diana Wrote about her life with a daughter here and three sons in heaven, life as an army wife, and her faith. You can also find her work on Liberating Working MomsShe Reads TruthThe New York Times, and The Huffington Post. Smaller glimpses into her day are on TwitterFacebook, and Instagram.

MORE FROM DIANA:

FacebookTwitterGoogle+TumblrPinterest
Tagged as: ,

Use a Facebook account to add a comment, subject to Facebook's Terms of Service and Privacy Policy. Your Facebook name, profile photo and other personal information you make public on Facebook (e.g., school, work, current city, age) will appear with your comment. Learn More.

FacebookTwitterGoogle+TumblrPinterest