Peter and I both remember the dinner where we admitted to each other that we weren’t sure we ever wanted kids. We liked our little family as it was, just the two of us. We had a lot of freedom. We took trips to California and Europe. We painted our own bedroom (a rather shocking shade of green, as it happened). We read books out loud to each other. And we each had plenty of time to do the work we wanted and felt called to do.

We eventually, thankfully, tripped our way into expanding our family. Seventeen years on from becoming parents, I am so glad that I get to know my husband as a father too. 

He makes us all laugh. He regulates screen time with far more vigor than I do. He makes spontaneous ice cream trips and also makes the kids wash the dishes. He read the Lord of the Rings in its entirety to both William and Marilee (changing the main characters’ names with Marilee so the heroes became young women). He gets mad sometimes. He apologizes. He leads them in their love of the Yankees. He leads us all in caring about how things and spaces are designed. He pushes them physically in ways I never could. He was the first Taylor Swift fan in the family. And he insists on attending every parent-teacher conference, cheering as often as possible at games and meets, and—even more crucially—making time for one-on-one walks and meals and trips together. 

He’s a great dad. I’m so glad I married him but also so glad we took what felt like the risk of ruining our partnership by becoming parents. He gave me the immeasurable and unbelievable blessing of these three kids. And the blessing of seeing him become a dad.

Happy Father’s Day on Sunday!!!

More with Amy Julia:

Happy Father’s Day 2022

Holding the Lines as a Parent

Responsive Parenting

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