San Fran: The Looking Glass

DISCLAIMER: I’m not exactly sure what a looking glass is. It just sounded cool.

DISCLAIMER NUMBER TWO: This post will be mushy.

When we were at the Golden Gate Bridge, there was this contraption.

You’ve seen them before – pay them a quarter and they’ll magnify anything you point them at.

Kiersten wanted to look in one, so Steve picked her up.

And I couldn’t help but think, what a great dad he is.

That’s something I always wondered about when I’d think about getting married someday. What would my future husband be like as a father? There are lots of different styles of daddies – the cautious types, the carefree types, the “no I will not change that diaper” types. All are good, but would the man I choose have the same standards as I do about raising children? What types of things would he teach them? Would he take our children on trips and show them the world? Would he help me teach them right from wrong? Would he see the importance of family dinner, but also see the joy in a late night ice cream run? Would he be open to letting the kids have pets so they can learn responsibility and accountability for the care and well being of something else and so they can experience what it feels like for mans best friend to greet you at the door after school?

Granted, I know parenting is probably a lot more than when I have kids, I’m going to raise them like this or I’d never let my kid do that.

From what I hear it’s a lot of trial and error, as well as sweat, blood, tears, and vomit.

Vomit being reason number 127 why we’re waiting to have children. . .lest you be saying we are baby hungry. Cleaning up someone elses’ bodily fluids all day just doesn’t appeal to me.

I know parenting isn’t easy, but I believe it’s a lot easier when you have a good foundation to build upon. I wanted someone who had that to bring to the table. Kevin definitely had that. His parents and siblings are all great parents. But, just as with pets, the only way you really know how you feel about children is to be around them.

When I met Kevin, the only niece or nephew he had was Kiersten. He hadn’t really been around any other kids.

He’d never held a newborn or played games with a toddler.

And I think (sorry Kevin) that he was slightly scared of kids. He didn’t know what to do around them. And I understand that. Kids are scary. The little ones have soft spots and squishy bodies. And their heads flop around if you don’t hold them. And they cry. And the older kids squirm when you hold them, and run around screaming like banshees because you won’t give them candy. (Or Cheetos).

(That reference was for you Ashley).

But then he started hanging around me, and I dragged him to the far, far away land of Mapleton to meet my sister, and what do you know, right off the bat ASPEN TRIES TO KISS HIM.

Right there, sitting on the couch on my lap, she leans over, tilts her head, closes her eyes and puckers.

Not just once, but THREE TIMES.

And I thought, well great, he probably just went from scared to horrified. But I was wrong. He went from scared to realizing that kids don’t bite (they kiss!) and that they are fun to be around.

Now he’s held not one, but three different newborns. He’s fed them bottles, and burped, and changed outfits.

And he’s played Candyland with Kiersten and jumped on the tramp with Aspen.

And now he’s the first to say, “Let’s go visit Maddy!” or “James!” or “Saige!”.

So when we were in San Fran and Kiersten wanted a better view?

Uncle Kevin swept her right up.

I’m so grateful I’m marrying him. He is going to be such an amazing father some day.

In five years.

Maybe six, if I get puked on by the newborns before then.