I had a pretty nice mother’s day, even though Jack was under the weather. He was still charming, and Genevieve was her usual chatty self. Philip and I even went out on a date on Saturday night — complete with both of us dressed up, fancy martinis (for me) and a gimlet (for him), appetizers, dinner, dessert, coffee and a walk downtown holding hands. It was perfect. And we were home by 9:30 because we were too exhausted to go to a movie. Sad. We are sad.
Sunday was Mother’s Day, and Philip was one fabulous husband. I love having kids, but more than anything, I love having kids with Philip. He’s sweet. He laughs with them. He laughs at them with me. He throws them into the air. He reads to them, tickles them, hugs them. He does bedtime, bathtime, dinnertime and diapers — all kinds. He’s a good hub.
And on Sunday, he didn’t disappoint. The baby woke up for the day at 5, and he got up with her. The next thing I know, it’s 8:15 and I am just waking up. He got Jack up, too, and got them all downstairs and kept them entertained, while I snoozed through it all. And when I got downstairs? Homemade waffles.
He kept it up through the day, and helped enertain both kids, carried in all the groceries after I went shopping, and made dinner while I took the kids to visit with the neighbors. And then he rocked Viv down as she fussed away the evening.
All of that is enough to make anybody happy.
But then last night, when Jack woke up with a 104-degree fever, Philip took turns rocking him with me, opening windows to cool him down, getting him Tylenol and checking on him to make sure he’s OK.
Making mom happy? It’s all about the little things, every day. So, thanks, Philip. For all the little things. (Especially the Royal Wedding special edition of People you brought home for me.)