A few years ago, shortly after my daughter was born, I found myself in an intense “momma bear” phase. I was the one who stayed at home with the kids while my husband went to work.

Unfortunately, there was no shortage of reminding him of this.

“You work out there. I work in here. If you have any thoughts as to how I should do my ‘job’ here, please wait while I remind you that… I’m the one here all day, and sorry about biting your head off…here, you can have it back now I guess.”

I had a 22 month old little boy who was convinced that the world would end should I leave his sight, and a 5 month old nursing koala baby girl that wouldn’t allow anyone else to hold her. I had a system and a process, and I might not know the last time I took a shower, but I could absolutely tell you exactly what my children needed, wanted, and how to take care of them the “best” way.

I felt stuck in this terrible place of wanting my husband to be involved, and feeling as though it would just be easier if Monday came and he went back to work already…

It wasn’t good. Those aren’t nice thoughts.

“Those aren’t the right pajamas. They are too tight on his toes.”

“We are in size 3 diapers now… they are in the bottom drawer. I kept the old ones in case I ran out of the bigger ones… no I don’t want to just use those up… because they leak since they are too small. NO, I don’t want to throw them away because they are better than nothing in case I run out completely!”

“She doesn’t like that paci. I don’t know why. She just fusses, but she doesn’t seem to fuss with this one. Here. Give her this one. See. Yup, now she’s upset…”

I wasn’t being mean on purpose. I didn’t want to feel that way, but there were some days that I couldn’t help but think that he was just complicating our system.

The unfortunate truth was… we both knew I felt that way.

So, I would try to let him do it his way. I would try not to step in and just do it because it was easier and it was what the kids were used to. I triiiied.

But it was always easier to just take care of it myself. It was always easier to just ignore all of his suggestions because he wouldn’t be the one implementing them… It was just easier to do it my way…

It was also terribly terribly hurtful.

There have been many nights since then that I have replayed those moments over again in my mind. If only I knew then what I know now.

But the past always wins. We can replay those moments in our minds, but it won’t ever change them. The events will always be the same.

What I can do is offer encouragement to those who are standing where I once stood.

What I can do is look back and say to that version of me:

Deep breath. Take another… okay… now chill out.

He will never be mommy. He will never be you. He will never think or feel or act like you do.

God made him different than you, and He made him different for a reason.

He will interact and engage and play differently. He will push and inspire and encourage differently. He will teach and coach and motivate differently.

Let him.

Let him love his children. He isn’t going to harm them. He would never put them in jeopardy. So what if he puts on the wrong size diaper? So what if he gives her another fruit jar instead of a veggie? What harm will come if bath time comes and goes and he doesn’t use a rag once?

He doesn’t have all the time in the world that you do.

He didn’t get to learn all of the quirks and smirks and funny little things that you have learned in the hours upon hours of time spent with your children.

His time may be limited, but his love is not.

Let him love his children as he knows best. Let him learn them. Let them learn him.

Because He wasn’t ever supposed to be just another mommy – he was designed to be daddy, and you should praise the Lord for what your children will learn from him and who they will become because of him.

Now let him do bath time the “wrong” way and go sit and drink a Dr. Pepper or something.

Tonight, after a long day, my husband will park his pickup in front of our house. There will already be noses pressed to the window waiting as he walks across the yard and through the front door. Four precious feet and four squeezy arms will run and hug him.

They will climb and play and wrestle and enjoy everything about their time with Daddy, and I will watch and thank the Lord for what I have come to know.

Because I might have not learned it as soon as I should have, but what I know to be true is this…

Daddies love just much as mommies – if mommies would only get out of their way.

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