My Husband

I would be remiss if I didn’t devote an entire post to my husband. And this isn't lovey, mushy stuff. For those of you who are entering a second marriage and you have children, you'll find in this some critical tips. My husband should write a book on the topic, seriously.
Here I am, 34 years old, jumping into parenthood for the first time, not with a squishy little newborn, but with two vivacious girls, 8 and 4 years old at the time, used to things being done a certain way at Mommy’s house and another way at Daddy’s house. I descend upon their lives with yet another vision of how family life should be.
I started by binging on parenting CD’s (Love and Logic people, look it up!), subjecting hubby to these audiobooks as well. Then there were changes in bedtime and routines followed by incentive charts. Next were restrictions on bathroom use during church, demands for better forms of communication from the girls, and on and on. Basically, thanks to my husband and his open-mindedness, I, with no previous parenting experience, was given a voice in this new household - a real, equal-partner voice!
Talk to enough step-parents, and you'll hear phrases akin to, "I feel like a stranger in my own home," or, "I'm neutered, with a total lack of say in how things run in my house."
Here's an article by a fellow stepmom blogger that further describes the challenge of those feelings for stepparents.
But this was not so with my husband. He gave me a voice, and I'll be forever grateful for that.
And while I was making suggestions and changes, was my husband a doormat? Absolutely not. That would not gain him a shout out.
He engaged, listened, gave input, and was flexible when it didn’t matter to him. We’re still communicating and figuring out how we’ll be as a parenting couple, but we’ve got each other’s backs.
So giving me a voice was my husband's first great gift to me. But there were others. First, he allowed me to struggle and fail. He was patient when I raged, lost sleep, and struggled before finally reaching a point of balance (delicate balance), all without condemning me or making me feel inept. I know I’m inept! Thank goodness he doesn’t point it out!
Second, he prioritized me. One night, we were talking about the girls, about how we’d like our family to operate, and he spontaneously told me that I was the most important person to him. He loves his girls, but I am his top priority. I hadn’t asked for that assurance, but having it was gold. And I committed to myself in that moment that I would never make him choose. I will not be one of those wives who is jealous of the affection my husband lavishes on his daughters. I wouldn’t have him any other way with them.
If I have concerns about the way one of the girls is interacting with him, I go to him and talk it through. The best gift my husband and I can give those girls is a united front, a functional union. They don’t get that at their primary home, so our relationship becomes even more important. That’s hugely motivating to me. Who we are as a couple will be a lifeline to our girls as they grow into adults.
Third, my husband is forever thanking me for all my time and efforts with our girls. A lesser man might think, "She entered this partnership with me, and these are her new obligations, like it or not. Why would I thank her for fulfilling her responsibilities?"
And that lesser man would be correct. I definitely signed up for this. But when my husband thanks me for all I do, or try to do, with the girls, I redouble my efforts. When he tells me I'm doing well, I find the stamina to keep going. When he gives me a night off from the bedtime routine just because I'm running thin on patience, I come back refreshed and ready to tackle a new day and give him breaks too. His appreciation is far more motivating than a brutal reminder of my contractual agreement to those two little she-monkeys.
So thank you, my love, for giving me the space to grow, patience when I fail, and the support to succeed. You can't possibly know how much I love and admire you. OK, that was a little mushy. Sorry 'bout that.