Have you heard about Doin (pronounced doe-ween) Richards yet?
He's a tremendous husband, father and writer. Read his I Have A Dream That People Will View a Picture Like This and Not Think It's a Big Deal piece on HuffPo's Parents page.
Then go check out his webpage. Explore the rants, the recipes (!), his advice to new dads and more.
Yeah, I think I'm a little in love. Reminds me of a certain Amazing Bob.
My wickedly talented cousin Della told me this tale of her husband's good deeds while she was baking their first bairn:
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Jen’s sister Erin (Yes, this would be Saint Erin of the Neck) told me this story:
And a tiny snippet from my latest fav book that's not by Martin Millar or Sherman Alexie—health, happiness, LOVE, longevity, peace, prosperity, safety by Kevin Tudish:
He's a tremendous husband, father and writer. Read his I Have A Dream That People Will View a Picture Like This and Not Think It's a Big Deal piece on HuffPo's Parents page.
Then go check out his webpage. Explore the rants, the recipes (!), his advice to new dads and more.
TAB and Tiny Green Miles |
My wickedly talented cousin Della told me this tale of her husband's good deeds while she was baking their first bairn:
Martin was always LOVELY. Telling me I looked nice when I resembled a manatee. Especially late in my pregnancy with Maya – I’d gained so much weight and was very round.
Do you know how some women have a pretty little bump? Mine started at my shoulders.Toward the end of that pregnancy we were having a warm spell (Maya was born 6 July) and I had swollen ankles and couldn’t get out of a chair, the whole bit, and Martin was taking me out to dinner. I had nothing nice to wear (or rather, I didn’t look nice in anything I owned) so he went to this posh maternity boutique in the Princesstraat (we were living in Den Haag) to buy me something. The problem was that he had NO IDEA what my normal size was and came back with a very cute, black crushed velvet dress that might have approached sexy (if I wasn’t a whale) and if it also wasn’t three sizes too big! :( It lifted my spirits in spite of the fact that he obviously thought I was THAT big and I wore it happily. It almost fit.
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Jen’s sister Erin (Yes, this would be Saint Erin of the Neck) told me this story:
~~~PJ, (husband and happy new daddy) just made me feel so loved and took such good care of me. His goofiness always put a smile on my face. When I was in the hospital, he did everything he could to make me smile, including bringing in Mike Wazowski, the mascot from one of our favorite movies, Monsters, Inc. to lift me up. PJ hung him in various spots in the hospital room, including hanging him from the hooks in hospital ceiling that I'm sure were meant for more important things, or over the nurses station, or over the television so that he could watch the very important football game. The doctors and nurses loved him (well, most of them did anyway), despite walking into him by accident numerous times. (that made me smile too! :)
PJ and Patrick
And a tiny snippet from my latest fav book that's not by Martin Millar or Sherman Alexie—health, happiness, LOVE, longevity, peace, prosperity, safety by Kevin Tudish:
You love your child like you love nothing else, and those first years are a joy you never imagined. This little creature who depends on you for everything, who’s yours to love and protect and nurture. Who sometimes is your own face staring back at you, who feels like she’s always been there, who materialized out of you the way your forty-year-old self materialized out of the twenty-year-old you just were. You hold her because you can’t believe she’s actually there, and she holds you back, presses against you and stretches those little arms across your chest. Wraps a hand around your finger. Falls asleep in your arms, sleeps on top of you while you sneak a nap.
It’s easy until she’s walking and grabbing things, seeing where her hands fit and what everything tastes like. There’s no sense of reason you can appeal to, but you have to keep her safe, keep her alive. No, no, Honey. No, no. But she’s determined, and you know nothing good can come of a wet finger in an electrical socket. NO. You can’t appeal to reason but you can instill fear. She freezes and starts crying because she’s never heard that voice from you. Honey, you offer softly, and move toward her, but the screams are even louder. She’s alive, and unlikely to go near an outlet again, but you’re different to her now.
You trade a little trust for her safety. You love her so much you’ll make that sacrifice. You can reason with yourself. But that bartering hurts.
Doyin (It’s a West African name pronounced “doe-ween”) - See more at: http://daddydoinwork.com/ddwdetails/#sthash.fKmZAO44.dpuf
Doyin (It’s a West African name pronounced “doe-ween”) - See more at: http://daddydoinwork.com/ddwdetails/#sthash.fKmZAO44.dpuf