Let us now praise Nate

Today was the last day of Nate's paternity leave, and before I start freaking out about tomorrow being the first day of daycare, I want to take a minute to recognize how important this last month has been for me, for him and most especially for Clementine. How cool is it that Nate put his job on hold for a month, despite the awful timing in the auto industry, and stayed home to get to know his little girl. There are so many reasons his decision rocked, not the least of which is the obvious priority he places on his family at a time when the American workplace makes it as difficult as possible to do so.

Because I was at home with darling C. from the beginning, I became--for lack of a better phrase--the dominant parent (notice I'm blaming it on maternity leave and not my control-freak personality). Don't get me wrong--Nate was as into it from the get-go as I was, but by virtue of my 8+ hours a day with her alone, I got to know Clementine much better those first few weeks. I knew all the right cry-abating tricks, the best way to swaddle, the way to get a laugh. Nate picked up on them right away, but I often had to lock myself in my office and bite my tongue to let him find his own way with her. Things evened out by the second month (even though I was still home with her), but December really strengthened their relationship in some cool ways. He is now the master of putting her to sleep when she's tired, and he has far surpassed me as the best swaddler in the house. They've had several outings by themselves (he now knows the challenge of leaving the house with baby and gear in tow first hand), a few foibles and mishaps and lots of adventures.

I don't mean to make it sound so novel; I know dads spend a lot of time with their kids. I'm just so damn proud of Nate for making it happen for himself, for not allowing his stupid job to steamroll him into missing this opportunity to forge a bond with his kid before we throw her in daycare. All this child-rearing is, as the cliche says, going by so fast, and I'm glad Nate had the sense to grab onto a piece of it for himself. Let me tell you, I was pretty in love with this guy before he knocked me up, but that was nothing compared to the love I felt for him when he gave our daughter her first bath or the rush of love I feel for him every time I overhear him chatting with her or singing to her or watch him lose his breath at her beauty. It's all just so damn amazing.

So let us now praise Nate and not think about tomorrow, our first at daycare. I could obsess for paragraphs about all the things that are bugging me about it, but instead I am going to go downstairs and curl up with Nate. We might get up the gumption to put away our Christmas stuff, but more likely we'll just sit on the couch and geek out about darling C., how cute she is, the way she smiled at us all through her bath, her sweet milky smell as she fell asleep tonight in his arms.