the parenting party

My man is my partner in crime in the parenting party. The Wayne to my Garth. The Ernie to my Bert. Our parenting journey (Journey! swig) has turned us into something on the other side of the young sweethearts we were on the day we married.

We look at each other differently, now.

We exchanged glances of sheer determination and togetherness when it became evident that falling pregnant was to be more of a challenge than we imagined.

Two years later, we locked humbled, hurt eyes as we shared the pain of a miscarriage, and giggled at the leaky pen spoiling the doctor's fancy white leather chair.

I drew strength from his gaze when birthing our babies, all three of them. I saw a change in the way he saw me, and I knew the love was cutting deeper now.

We shared a slightly bemused look as we brought each child home, crossed the threshold and it became real, each time. A bit like the look I imagine you would share with someone about to parachute out of a plane with you.

Lately I've found my darling and I exchanging a glance over the dinner table, or over the kids' heads while we are out and about. It's the look of a well-practiced military team, knowing each others' signals and next move.

I figure this stage of parenting young children is a bit like the best party you ever went to. When you wake up, there will be large chunks that you can't remember with the clarity you would like. There will be things you did that you do recall, but cringe with the memory. There will be stuff you remember (such as dancing on the bar) with fondness for your own awesomeness, but that others don't recall with the same humour. There will be things that seemed completely insignificant to you, but that will be key in the minds of the others at the party. And inevitably, there will be a hangover of epic proportions.

I like parties, but they are best when you get to share them with someone who knows all your insecurities and quirks. Someone to share in-jokes and people-watch with. Someone to hold your hair back and tuck you into bed at your drunkest most vulnerable. Someone who, when all the fun is over, the guests have left and the clean-up is done, will still share a joke and a knowing look.

And hopefully hold hands on the lounge to watch silly romantic comedy films.

So many more steps to come on this journey. I feel humble, loved and unable to express the depth of my gratitude for a true partnership. Cheers, my darling.