I’m sitting in the car pecking this out on my BlackBerry. We’ve just fed the kids dinner, en route home from a weekend at the beach.
“Are you going to tell everyone how well I feed Max?” Dave asks.
“Yes!” I say.
I’m dedicating this post to Dave, my better half. He really is a master at feeding Max, wherever we are—at home, in a car, on a plane, in a train (apologies, Dr Suess).
“I’m also your more muscular half,” Dave wants everyone to know.
Yes, honey.
I don’t need much prodding from Dave to sing his praises, because he is an awesome partner, and father. He is wonderfully playful with the kids. He gives them baths. He changes diapers. He teaches them sports. He does whatever he humanly can for them. And he is particularly wonderful with Max.
When Max loses it and screams, I get unnerved. Dave stays calm.
When I used to get down about what happened to Max in the early years, Dave would say, “Look at him. Does he look like a tragedy?”
When I’d worry that Max might not do something, Dave would say, “He’ll do it.”
Not every guy is a great dad, and certainly not every guy is a great dad to a kid who has special needs. I know I am very, very lucky, and so is Max. Why wait until Father’s Day to give Dave the props he deserves?
“Anything else you’d like people to know?” I ask Dave.
“You wrote about my great feeding and playing?” he asks, smiling.
“Yes,” I say. “And I told them how handsome you are!” Well, I did now, anyway.
“Tell them Max makes it easy to be a great dad because he is the happiest kid in the world.”
I love this guy.
Now, how do your partners rock?
Ellen blogs daily at To The Max