Friday, May 27, 2011

Gratitude #14: The Return of Super Ninja

That is not a reference to some kind of J.R.R. Tolkien-meets-Mr. Miyagi mash-up flick. Once upon a time my husband asked that I refer to him as Super Ninja on this blog. Why? I have no idea. He doesn't know karate, though he is super.

Anyway, he was out of town for work for most of this week*. He left Monday morning, and got back at nearly midnight last night. Know what that means? I solo-parented for three mornings and four nights. Three kids. A six-year-old, a four-year-old, and an one-year-old who is absolutely determined to brain himself.

I am tired. And humbled. I must give all single parents way, way more slack. Not that I"m the obnoxious woman who shakes her head and makes rude commments about how that kid should not be making that much noise. Not a bit. Actually, when I travel alone and there's an open seating situation on an airplane, I deliberately sit near a baby because squalls and screeches won't actually irritate me. Why? Because it's not MY kid.

Yeah, so, it is so incredibly exhausting to look after three children and run a house on your own. And remember to take out the trash. And lock the doors. And do the laundry so that the only two pairs of shorts your six-year-old thinks are comfortable are clean. And feed all three of them at reasonable times. And take them to do things so that they go to bed at a reasonable hour. And get them to places on time. And make sure they do their homework, and that they spelled everything properly. And shower. And make sure they bathe, brush their teeth, and don't wear the same underwear every day.

I have loved Super Ninja pretty much from the minute we met. Never been any doubt about that. So while he was away, I obviously missed him, our conversation, laughing with him. But now I know how much I need him. Not in that namby-pamby "you complete me" nonsense kind of way. But in a "I couldn't do this without you" kind of way. I depend on him. And I am OK with that. For a long time, I've felt like admitting dependence was akin to admitting a flaw. Or that if I acknowledged I need help, the perhaps I was not handling my bidness properly. Maybe I'm maturing, but I don't have ANY kind of problem with that now.

So, I am grateful for a devoted (and HELPFUL) husband and father to my kids.

*My Facebook friends may be all, "Wha? Why didn't you post that as a status?" Here's the deal: even though I run a pretty tight security ship on my FB account, I think it's a good idea not to share with the world that a 5'2" woman and her three small children are home alone. YES, we have an alarm system, and YES, I live in a safe neighborhood. But I don't get it when people are all, "Wheee! I'm going to be home alone this weekend!" Or, "Can't wait 'til me and the fam head to the beach for a solid week!" I know, I have a suspicious mind.

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