It’s not often that fathers get discussed in blogs unless they are getting cussed out or we’ve just had enough. It’s not often that dad’s get the recognition that they deserve for being heroes in their own right. Mother’s are usually the ones to take the accolades and sympathies. Men just don’t usually garner that kind of attention. I would like to say that my son’s father, my husband, my hunky man – deserves some praise.
My hunky man is just that – he is a big fella. He used to be bigger. Heck, I used to be smaller. He walked in to a room and people would stop and look. He was big. Sometimes that’s all they would see. Depending on which end of the bouncer you were on, there wasn’t really much of a chance to see much else. As we matured, he lost some of that bulk – that big guy wow factor. Which was great for me as clothes were so much easier to buy for. But he never lost that big guy feeling. People still know when they look at him, that he is not one to be messed with. Except me of course – I mess with him all the time. But then again I give perks.
This big man, this hunky fella – he is the father of my children and I doubt I could have chosen better if I tried. When our children were born, this big man would take these wee babies and cuddle them, coo to them, soothe them. He rocked them and changed them and marvelled over anything they did. He was wrapped. Babies just go to him and instantly calm down and feel safe. It must be where our son gets one of his many gifts which is how children are drawn to Thomas. No fear, no worry just play with me and I know you won’t hurt me.
As our children grew, my hunky fella got a bit smaller. Still big enough for people to go – hey you need to move that ? Ask Mikey. Hey you need that knocked down ? Ask Mikey. But as a father he got better and better. He grew leaps and bounds in the dad department. He played and he read stories and he taught them to swim and he taught them how to ride a bike. He showed them stars and bugs and all kinds of things. I often thanked him then for being the father of my children. Most days I still do. He gave me the best piece of advice of anyone when people would offer suggestions and I thought I was doing it all wrong. “You are the mother of this child and you know your baby better than anyone.” God love him for that. I know I do.
When Thomas was a baby and toddler, he got sicker and sicker. Races to the hospital for asthma attacks and colds. Running to specialists for appointments and evaluations for allergies and weeping skin. Being at home, I did alot of them alone but my hunky fella was right there when he could be. They said, You can’t fix his skin Mrs. Plouffe – just accept it. Hell no. Now my hunky fella didn’t always agree with my choices but he backed me up. Not always graciously but he tried. They said Thomas’ skin might get better by the time he was 7 or 8. I had him cleared up by 3 1/2. Don’t tell me no ! Well didn’t my hunky fella tell all who would listen about his wife who wouldn’t take no for an answer.
As he grew, it became apparent that Thomas wasn’t functioning quite “normally”. He started getting help thanks to Mary Heathcote his nursery school teacher. The centre said after some skills assessments, let the school handle it. He’ll get evaluated eventually. It will sort itself out. Hell no. My child needs help and you will give it to him if I have to take it by force. I got his psycoeducational evaluation over two years before the school would have done it. My hunky fella took Thomas for most of the appointments. When we started seeing Dr. Weaver at ErinOak, my hunky fella was right there. When we got the diagnosis of Aspergers, my hunky fellas sat there holding my hand as I cried. Dr. Weaver said – it’s ok. He will grow up. He will have relationships. He will be able to hold a job. My response ? If my son grows up to be half the man his father is, then I will be happy.
Most people would think, what’s the big deal ? This is what dad’s should do. My husband, my hunky fella, the father of my children did all of this while working two and sometimes three jobs so I could stay home. He did this while working on our house, repairing foundations, fixing problems inside and single handedly re-roofing our house. He did this while helping friends move, helping friends with their houses, helping my mom and his mom. He would put in a full work week plus overtime and come home and take the kids to the park so I could have a break. He would take care of his own laundry (which he prefers thank God), help around the house, mow the lawn and trim the hedges. He would take them swimming because I don’t like public pools. He took them skating because I have a hard time with crowds and I don’t skate well. That is why he is a big deal.
I got inspired to write this by my friend Jessica’s title of her blog – Sometimes Heroes Come in Small Packages. Sometimes they come in big, quiet, fun loving, hunky, helpful and fabulous packages too. My hunky fella – am I lucky or what ?