I was sweating bullets.
I was nervous, scared, stressed, and a touch overwhelmed. You'd think I was making a speech, or was engulfed in a life-threatening situation. I was taking a baby to a doctor's appointment.
I'd never felt so unsure of myself during these 6 months, than I did this morning. It made me chuckle afterwards, how a happy-go-lucky nurse asking me simple questions could freeze me right where I stood. As the infamous Bob Wiley says, "I'm all locked up!"
What was wrong with me? No coffee? No breakfast? No sleep? Check, check, and......check, but that wasn't the reason. I was without my wingman, er, woman. Amy was working and left this mindless task to me. Seemed like 20 questions from hell, but I digress.
All too often, we as fathers take for granted what the "Supermoms" do so effortlessly, so efficiently, each and every day. We think we have a clue, we don't have a prayer.
Sometimes we realize on our own, the things a great mother does, but most of the time, we haven't the slightest idea, and Mother Nature, herself has to slap us upside the head a couple times. That was this morning at 8:30AM. Mommy nature 'done bitch-slapped me real good. It's truly the little things that make the biggest difference. The way she rocks him to sleep. The way she talks to him. the way she makes the world seem trouble-free. Hell, the way she takes him to the doctor. I can try, and I do, try to convey these things. I try to play it cool, but I'm not momma, she's the cool character 'round these parts. I'm just a blubbering, hot-mess of a man. Or better put, daddy.
So next time you see your wife, mom, or baby-momma, tell her thanks. Thanks for being "Supermom", and putting up with your "Daddy-Tendencies".
Still enjoying the ride, every stroke-inducing moment.
-JRoy
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