Husband and Daddy
Article posted on Saturday, February, 23rd, 2008 at 8:47 pmThe lights were low in the dining room. The conversation was loud. As the hostess led us to our table, I feel a giddiness I hadn’t felt in a long time.
Andy and I were out for dinner. At a nice restaurant: The kind we used to go to all the time before we had Annabelle. And, while I wouldn’t go back if I could, it was fun to be out on the town again.
We passed people celebrating anniversaries, birthdays. Maybe a few people were wheeling and dealing. Who knows? But I felt like I was out on my first date with Andy again.
There were no car seats. No strollers. No Cheerios on the floor. No bibs. No screaming. No fussing (at least not in any recognizable form!).
So this is what it feels like to be in adult company! Wow. Again, I felt giddy.
Holding Andy’s hand and looking into his eyes. I remembered. Listening to him talk and imitate a funny commercial. I remembered. And the remembrance was almost shocking: This is my husband. This is the guy I married. Where has he been?
When you have a baby, your life changes in massive ways. Those ways are somewhat anticipated. What you never understand beforehand is how your life will change in the minute ways. How your perceptions will shift. How the ground seems to move beneath your feet as you attempt to hang on for the ride.
And you forget.
“Daddy” is no longer your father. He’s your child’s. This “Daddy” person looks like your husband and sounds like your husband, but that’s where the similarities seemingly end. “Daddy” is a great guy. He’s fun and funny and exuberant and loving … to someone else. And, while I wouldn’t have it any other way, I sometimes wish for hugs and kisses and cuddles and sweet, soft voices for myself. Those have kind of dried up since my husband became “Daddy.”
Back at the restaurant, Andy was wearing a cute gray sweater. A sweater he knows I love. I didn’t have to ask him to wear it. He just did. I asked him to take a picture of us. I didn’t have to explain. He just knew what I meant. When I tell him I am lonely. He understands.
That part of my husband has stayed the same, though so much has changed. I don’t get to see it very often because he and I are in childcare mode. But last night, catching those little glimpses and feeling like more than just a laundromat and food dispenser, I felt giddy.
And it was great.