Sean is one of those guys that everyone knows as the funny guy, the life of the party, the tough guy, but I know him in a completely different way. I know him as the 17 year old boy who would walk three miles in the rain to be by my side while I was sick. The boy who would never miss one of my basketball games. The boy who would write notes in a journal between every hour in high school. I know him as the man who would put my happiness before his, any day. The man who would do whatever it takes to provide for us. And now I know him as a dad. The first time dad who worries too much and questions every little thing about his new baby. Almost making me question myself. I'm supposed to be so confident this time around, aren't I? It's endearing to watch him care so much. I don't want him to worry, but I know he will regardless and I can't help but love him more for it. He's a proud dad and he should be. He's the dad who never lets me get the car seat. He insists on doing the heavy lifting and holding the door for me while he's at it. He's the man who will literally hand feed me beef and broccoli while I nurse his daughter on the couch. Not to mention he supports my breastfeeding relationship with Luce and encourages me to feed in public or wherever I need to to keep her happy and healthy. On the weekends he stays up with me and gets up early to help me with sis. He doesn't mind changing diapers and giving me time to shower and throw on some makeup. He's the man that still surprises Henry with soccer balls and gummy savers after he's been gone all weekend. He's the man that holds Henry's hand as he falls asleep because something has woken him up and I'm trapped feeding baby sister and rocking her to sleep. He's the man that supports my co-parenting relationship and stands by my side at Henry's soccer practice. He's the man who supports me in every way. The man who loves me and his daughter, and Henry. He's the reason I can stay home and care for the children.
We're three weeks into being parents and trust me, he isn't perfect, neither I am. He still drives me crazy at times and sometimes my hormones get jealous of his peaceful slumber in our bed while I half-sleep in the recliner, but it's just that-hormones. I know that, because there is no way I could discredit all that he does for us while working long hours all week and waking at three a.m. I am so happy that we created our beautiful little girl and that we get to do life together. I'm thankful for this man and all that he does. What's better than a man who feeds you? ;)