So, it should be apparent when you’re reading my blog, that I don’t do all of this by myself. (If you’ve not noticed mention of my wife, then you’re… not reading often enough.) And on this day, it’s important to remember that she is there, part of everything that’s going on.
Because, truthfully, I wouldn’t be able to be a fraction of the father that I am, if it weren’t for her being the mother that she is.
Now, I do a lot. I’m working very hard at my job that provides us with insurance for all of the therapy, doctor’s visits, and the like. I’m the bulldog in meetings when we need to get something done and various agencies are being… difficult. I’m the one who’s called in to be the brute squad when he’s being obstinate and doesn’t want to do one of a thousand things (based on my ability to haul him around physically). I advocate fiercely and, Heaven help you if you screw with my child, because I will end you. (Which is my job as the dad.)
I’m the heavy, which is the easy job. It’s a lot, lot harder being the softer touch in this life of ours, and that’s her forte.
She’s the one who deals with so much more. She’s the one called by the school when there’s a problem or issue. She’s home with him in the afternoons for a while after he gets off the school bus, trying to get homework done or to do things to compliment the therapies that he’s getting at school. She – not I – is the one who more often than not finds the various activities he goes to, and makes arrangements for intake or for the forms to get filled out. She manages the schedule to make sure that doctors’ appointments, outside activities, camp and school all fit together in a seamless fashion that won’t add to the stress at transitions.
She’s been the class mom for his classes in prior years, and she’s the treasurer for his school’s Parents Association this year, spending what scant free time she has in the afternoons and evenings helping to arrange activities for him and his schoolmates, finding items for an auction to support HASA, and other such things to provide help for children like our son.
And when I go off to my curling competitions, she’s at home dealing with the Monster from end-to-end to pick up the slack I’ve left. (I’ve tried to encourage her to take time as well, but no dice so far – so those of you who know her, please help me push her to do so. We can only really be our best for our children, especially our children with special needs, when we take proper care of ourselves too.)
Thank you, dear, for being such a wonderful mother to our children. I love you and appreciate you more than words can say.