A Father's Day Special: To my husband now that we have kids

A Father's Day Special: To my husband now that we have kids

Mums sometimes forget to show their husbands just how important they are. So on behalf of all the mums, here's an open letter to the husbands.

Women get so caught up with being a mum that they may appear to have forgotten their other role – a wife. And they do feel bad for it. So today, on behalf of all the busy mums, I write this open letter to all the Dads who are feeling a little neglected.

To my husband now that we have kids

Remember that night, not too long ago, when we walked down that aisle feeling so clueless about marriage yet so sure that we wanted to spend the rest of our lives together? When we exchanged our vows and I told you that I would love you fiercely and more than anything else for as long as my heart beats?

Then a few little beings arrived and took over our little world by storm and profoundly altered our lives. They took everything that we thought we knew about life, shook it up, tore it apart and from that pandemonium made us build something so incredibly beautiful.

the times

First it was just you and me. Then came the kids and everything changed.

Thank you from the bottom of my heart for sharing that beautiful journey with me. And at the same time, I am sorry.

I am sorry for all the timesI made you feel that you had become the last thing on my mind after the kids came. I am sorry that your needs and wants became secondary although I promised you that you would always be first.

I am sorry for the timesyou orchestrated some grand plans only to end up getting told off for not asking me beforehand. And sometime later got told off again for not surprising me. Because I was caught between wanting to be surprised and not wanting surprises because they came in the way of our kids’ schedules.

I am sorry for the timesyou were in a perfectly good mood and I had to cast a gloomy shadow over your joy with my doubts, insecurities and struggles that sent me spiralling into existential angst every now and then.

I am sorry for the timesthat I was snappy, irritable and moody and you could not for the life of you fathom just what you had said or done wrong to evoke such a reaction. It probably was neither you nor me. Blame the hormones. But I’m sorry anyway.

I am sorry for the timesI complained that you didn’t do enough and then second-guessed you when you took the kids out to give me a breather. I’m sorry I had to micromanage and send you endless reminders and instructions. This was in spite of me telling you that you are an amazing father.

I’m sorry that my conversations have become limited and revolve around reminding you what groceries to buy and updating you on all the mischief that our kids were up to in your absence.

I’m sorry that while you largely remain the same, you may not even recognise me anymore. Some of the things that you loved best about me may be gone. I am constantly worried, anxious, stressed and exhausted in a way that I never imagined possible. And I possibly make you feel like you are the last thing on my mind.

If I have made you feel like you no longer are the love of my life and you are just the father to our children, then I am sorry. 

the times

I know you miss us, trust me I do too.

I want you to know that you were, are and will always be the love of my life. As much as my maternal instincts have taken complete control over me, no one and nothing can make me feel the way you do.

I want you to know that I often reminisce the time when we lived in a little bubble that was just you and me. When we could go on a date on any night of the week. When we watched television on our couch without our clothes on. When we would fall asleep in each other’s arms after a night of passion, and wake up to breakfast in bed, or each other for breakfast if we pleased. I miss all of that with all my heart.

I want you to know that however difficult or awful my day is, or however troubled my heart is, all my fears dissipate the moment I rest my head on your chest and listen to your heart beating.

I want you to know that in between all the texts of what time you are coming home and me reminding you to pick up milk and eggs on your way, now and then when you send me a naughty text, it still sends my heart racing and my face flushing. And I love it when you do that.

I want you to know that when I can, I still doll myself up and put on a pretty dress. I do that partly to feel good about myself and mostly for your viewing pleasure.

I want you to know that when you put on that black shirt and appear in front of me looking nothing short of dashing, my heart still skips a beat the same way it did the first time we went on a date. You make me feel sixteen and thirty-two all at once.

In fact, you make me feel so many things all at once. You are possibly the only person on this planet who can make me feel so maddened, infuriated, annoyed, irritated, happy, excited, peaceful, calm and crazily in love.

So dear husband, please dispel your doubts about where you stand in my life right now. I know you need me, and I need myself too. But right now, those little beings that we created need me more than anything else.

Do be patient with me and this time will pass before we know it. I promise to give you all of me whenever I find the time and space to and I promise to find that time and space every now and then.

 And when these little beings aren’t so little anymore, you will have more of me, most of me, in fact all of me. Your wife will be all yours again. But between now and then, if you ever feel that I am so caught up that I seem a tad bit too far from you, reach out for my hand and pull me back to you.

the times

I’m not that far away. If I seem far, pull me back to you.

Remember – you are the embodiment of every desire that my mind is acquainted with, you are in every beat of my heart. I will always love you first, most and best and our marriage comes before everything. 

Thank you for being my husband, thank you for being the father to our children. Happy Father’s Day.

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Written by

Nasreen Majid

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