My husband is an idea man, he's a dreamer. While it's a mostly endearing quality, dreams and reality don't often match up. When my husband and I were dating, he used to joke that he wanted eight kids. I laughed it off because I was quite certain that he didn't have the slightest idea what he was talking about. I knew that he was attached to the idea of eight children, the dream of a houseful of kids because reality is far different.
Now that our daughter is here, I'm not so sure he's all that enthusiastic about having a ton of kids anymore. Sleep is very important to him and a couple of nights without it has him singing a different tune. He's also very accustomed to being able to figure things out and find the solution to just about any problem. However, newborns don't fit into a neat mold and of course they don't come with instruction manuals. Many times he's looked at me demanding to know why the baby is crying. It's also difficult for him because if he was able to calm her by walking ten circles around the living room one night, according to him the next night the same thing should work and he gets truly frustrated when it doesn't. Unfortunately, the baby didn't get the memo and when I try to suggest to him that he try something else, guess who gets the brunt of his frustrations?
Luckily, I know my husband and I have a thick skin. I'm also lucky that my hormones have settled down because if they hadn't, you might be hearing about me on the six o'clock news!
However, as with all situations in life, nothing is ever all good and nothing is ever all bad. Just when I feel like he's written off the baby until she makes more sense, I walk into the nursery this morning and the two of them were playing together. It was a really sweet moment and I ran to get my camera. I got some great shots of the father and his daughter and I knew that everything is going to be okay.