Something remarkable recently occurred. My partner and I were cozily seated on our loveseat, he was browsing the internet (do people still say that?), and I was engrossed in a novel. Our kids were energetically bouncing on the couch, cushions scattered all over the floor. Suddenly, our youngest flopped onto a big pillow and, gasping for air, declared, “I need water.”
I barely caught his plea, too absorbed in my book to register it until I noticed my partner getting up and moving towards the kitchen. That’s when it hit me: 1) my son was indeed thirsty; and 2) my partner was on it.
It’s tough to say whom I was more amazed by—my son for asking or my partner for responding. I lean towards my partner, but I know I wouldn’t have reached this understanding without his influence. In the past, I would get frustrated with him for strumming his guitar in his boxers while I played the role of a busy caregiver. I often found myself questioning how he could enjoy his hobbies while I was knee-deep in the chaos of parenting. He’d be playing chess with strangers on his phone while I searched for my preschooler’s lost toy. My astonishment morphed into bitterness; I felt like a petulant child, arms crossed, stomping my feet, thinking, “That’s not fair!”
I would frequently confront him about this, labeling him selfish and inconsiderate. In response, he’d point out that I lacked boundaries and could also find time for fun if I allowed myself. “Tell the kids ‘no’ sometimes,” he’d advise, “take a break, order takeout, and stop blaming me for how you choose to spend your time.” He had a point, and I couldn’t deny it.
It hasn’t been an easy journey, but by observing my partner, I’ve learned to ease up and do less. Now, I find myself laughing out loud while reading and allowing the kids to entertain themselves. Strangely, my family appreciates me more for it—and I feel more connected to them as well.
My partner has always been a fantastic dad. Just today, he played a matching game with our kids and engaged in two epic sword fights. He even endured our toddler’s attempts at nursing, probably seeking out new sources now that I’ve stopped. But the truth is, he also prioritizes his own enjoyment, which I used to resent. Instead of complaining, I’ve chosen to learn from him. I still cherish spending time with the kids, yet I also recognize my right to enjoy my own interests. I used to write only during nap times, but now I can be found sitting at a Little Tikes picnic table while one child swings and the other digs in the dirt. A little benign neglect never hurt anyone.
When my partner returned from the kitchen, he surprised me by asking, “Would you like some water?” I was taken aback. It seems the best way to gain more is to do less. I’m starting to see things more clearly.
I used to find my partner irritating—until I began to emulate him. Now, in many ways, I’ve become a better version of him. I even sit on the toilet with my phone for several minutes after I’ve finished, sometimes pretending to be busy just to enjoy a moment of peace.
My partner isn’t selfish; he’s a genius and a profound source of inspiration. For more about navigating the complexities of home insemination, check out this excellent resource on pregnancy and home insemination. And if you’re interested in learning about at-home insemination options, visit this informative blog post. For expert insights, you can also explore this authority on the topic.
In summary, I’ve shifted from viewing my partner as selfish to recognizing his wisdom in balancing parenting with personal enjoyment. This journey has improved my family life and my own happiness.