Eight months ago our family went from two to four. It was quick, crazy, scary, wonderful and life changing. In the past eight months I have watched my husband, Matt, transform into the most amazing part of himself; who he is as a father. I always assumed Matt would be a great father- he was great with my niece, played ball or chased kids around at any BBQ, and didn’t run in the other direction when I told him I wanted a baby by the age of 29 (HA- joke’s on me). Choosing to spend the rest of my life with Matt meant I was choosing a partner for life- but also my partner in parenting.

Turns out, Matt is a perfect vision of what I wanted as a father figure for our family. His undying love for his two girls is evident. I’m not saying he has “dad” written all over him:  he hasn’t traded in the Camaro for a mini van, he hasn’t started wearing Crocs, and never falls asleep before 9:30  (actually I do these things- minus the mini van and I’m still cool, right?) but since day one he has been awake with me (even if half asleep) holding a bottle and changing diapers at 3 am, is the first one to check safety ratings on car seats, has already started college funds, and Ergo wears our babies in such style I sometimes mistake him for Brad Pitt and suddenly want five more children. He may not have realized it, but it is clear that he is a natural at this.

In addition to being #seriouslythebestdadever Matt is also the hardest working person I know. I’ve said it before, but I am damn proud of him. I’ve always surrounded myself with overachievers- knowing that I could never live up to all the hype myself and I was hoping that eventually it would rub off on me. It never really did- but I’m glad Matt takes such pride in what he does. Even after weeks of 14+ hour days I can somehow turn off my frustration at him being gone all day and still look at him with admiration.

This past year Matt was asked to take a Day Staff position. “Yay, weekends off!” I squealed in delight. Yeah well, weekends off are wonderful, but watching him wake up for work before 5 am and not get home until after 6 pm has been less than thrilling. Those weekends off were nice, but after staying at home with babies- days don’t really make a difference and all I saw was an exhausted human who slumped through the door each day.

Even during the longest days Matt somehow was able to come home and be the person the girls and I needed him to be. Without missing a beat he walked through the door, patted heads of furry creatures begging for some real attention, gave me a quick kiss, and headed straight to his babies. At this point he would take the glass dish of baby food from my hand, or sit on the floor playing music while they danced in their bouncers. He would start a bath, change a diaper, get bottles ready… anything and everything. He came in, took over and I finally relaxed. Not that I spent my whole day counting down the hours until he got home, but by 6pm I was usually exhausted. Mentally, physically, and emotionally. I was probably still wearing my gym clothes and had baby food crusted on my face and I usually hadn’t had a valid conversation with anyone besides the pharmacy tech. I will admit it: I love it when he walks through the door to help me and I love him so much for it.

The most shocking thing in all this is that even though Matt has left work and has come home to his family he never takes his boots off (or changes) until after the girls have gone to bed. This amazes me. I don’t know how he does it. For me- one is not really relaxing at home until they are sporting some sort of elastic pant and an oversized shirt. But still, everyday I have become accustomed to this image of a man, hunched over the bathtub dressed in camo and running up and down the stairs collecting Wubanubs and sleep suits in his clunky black boots-laces looking uncomfortably tight. My husband knows he works a lot. He knows that life is easier when he is home. So when he’s home- he takes whatever energy is left from his long day and immediately makes himself useful. The idea that he doesn’t want to take the two minutes to unlace his boots and place them by the door is such a silly and unbelievably selfless thing- the fact that he can seamlessly turn from an overworked man to a father home caring for his family is precious and I am so incredibly thankful.

Next week Matt will get a year to stay at home and get his Master’s degree. We have both been counting down to this sabbatical for two and a half years. For the next year there will be no more 12+ hour days, no more 35 minute commutes, no more only seeing the girls when they decide to party at 3 am, no more holidays missed, no more uniforms… no more tight laced boots. I’m ready for scruffy unshaven cheeks, days where we never leave the house, and being able to both watch the girls grow before our eyes. I’m sure this transition will be strange for everyone, and I’m sure at some point I’ll be biting my tongue and blogging about the challenges faced when both parents are home, but for now I only feel excitement.

So cheers to you, Matty. You made it. I know there will be many tough years ahead but this one was especially challenging as our family grew. We love you, we need you, and we are so happy to finally have you home.

And one more thing, you can leave your boots by the door- better yet, leave them in the closet.