My husband is my teammate in this crazy life we lead, and he’s the only one I would want by my side. Especially when the wheels come off.
When my dear son is angry and hurling hurtful words at me, I can count on Chad to be my protector. In those moments he is more my husband than Eli’s father. I know it, Eli knows it. When he crosses a line, I inform him that our discussion is over and he will be continuing it with my husband (I use those words), he is not happy. He’s not afraid of Chad, but he’s not looking forward to the conversation.
When my dear oldest is falling apart because I said she couldn’t go to the park in the evening with friends unsupervised, I can count on Chad to see when we all need a break. Grace gets so wrapped up in her emotions that she no longer hears what we are saying and is instead expecting us to change our minds. Chad calls a break and we reconvene when she is calmer.
When my dear youngest is starting every sentence with, Hey mom? Hey mom? Hey mom? Hey mom? he will interject and give me a break.
Any good teammates know the plays ahead of time. We discuss a lot of things without the kids around so that we can be on the same page when they are. If we aren’t on the same page about something with the kids, we will go somewhere else and discuss until we are. Being united in front of them is invaluable and necessary.
In this crazy game of parenting, that never ends and rarely has time outs, my husband is my teammate. And I’m the luckiest girl of all.