To the Mothers, From the Idiots They Married

It"s Mother"s Day and noodad.com is proud to salute the mothers of our children. But instead of just regurgitating common sentiments and canned Hallmark moments, the writing staff has decided to concentrate on what we call, "The Moment." This term marks the single moment in time when we realized how great our wives would be at motherhood. It is a moment of realization and revelation, the very instant when we realized just how lucky we were and how screwed we would be raising our kids without them. We hope you enjoy reading these messages as much as we enjoyed sharing them. And we encourage you other dads out there to add a comment and proclaim your admiration to your wives in this public forum.

NOODAD/Gregory Ng
It was the moment that changed everything for me. I was indifferent to the idea of breastfeeding. I had heard of all the benefits but I also saw the shelves of powdered formula that lined the store shelves. Surely breastfeeding was not the only way. But my wife had nothing but resolve on this matter. So when I came home from work that first night home from the hospital, there was my wife, painfully engorged, desperately trying to get my daughter to feed.

My daughter was born 4 weeks early so the doctors had warned us that there would be some things she would not pick up as quickly. We were worried breastfeeding would be one of those things. And after my wife had painfully tried to feed our newborn all day, and worried that my daughter was starving, we decided to feed my daughter a bottle of formula. She drank the entire bottle in less than 5 minutes and as the formula went down, my wife"s determination went up.

And when it was time for the next feeding, my wife was trying again to feed our baby. This was the moment that changed my life. My wife had the opportunity to quit and I wouldn"t have really cared. But she was determined to nurse our baby and she tried and tried until she had success. She nursed our daughter for a full year. Multiple times a night, every night, you would find her, sitting in the rocker, nursing our little girl. My wife took that responsibility and made that sacrifice. And she continues to always put our kids first. To this day I still find myself watching her in awe and admiration. Admiration for this wonderful woman I married. Thanks H. I love you.

FOODAD/Michael Schneider
When my wife and I were in China to adopt our first, I was very much in awe of the whole situation. We were about to become parents for the first time and we were in China! The moment coincidentally was also my first parental failure of many. I was about to change my daughter"s diaper for the first time. I took off the wet diaper and she started full-on wailing. I panicked. I was trying to get her to hold still and at the same time wrangle her in to put a new diaper on her. She was turning red and howling as I was making Pee-Wee Herman-like "AAAARRRRRR" noises whilst flailing.  

I finally got the diaper on her and picked her up in an attempt to comfort her. However, she did not wish to be in the clutches of the flailing maniac! My wife stepped in and took her from me, gently rubbing her back and telling her that everything was going to be OK. The howling subsided and so did the tears as she comforted her in a way that only a mother could.

You make the impossible look easy. You allow us to do things smoothly that mere mortal families can not even dream of. You know that I always have the highest confidence in you, and yet you continue to do things that amaze me. You truly are SuperJ. You pwn! I love you!

CGILLIS/Charles Gillis
The moment occurred in the kitchen just a few months after our first son was born. We were getting ready to leave for a family dinner and we were running late. My wife was whirling around the house like a tornado, swirling from room to room picking up the mandatory items required for a trip with the baby. In contrast, I moved slowly and sure-footedly. She was a blur of motion; an energetic hare to my tortoise. I felt no pressure to move faster. After all, I was carrying the baby.

I had never really held a baby before I had held my own son, and even after the completion of new parent training classes I did not feel particularly adept at carrying a newborn. As my wife bounded into the kitchen I followed her, eventually, carrying our child as carefully as a novice museum curator would carry a priceless Faberge Egg.  

My wife was already loaded down like a pack mule – diaper bag, blanket, car seat, and a second bag of various and sundry baby items. Spinning my direction she asked me to pick up a bag that held a couple of Tupperware dishes. I declined the request because I was carrying the baby. In an instant, all time stopped.

Her eyes were transfixed on mine, and without breaking her gaze she took the baby from my arms, while still carrying the diaper bag, blanket, car seat and the second bag of various and sundry baby items. She then grabbed the bag of dishes as well, and walked to the car, turning only for moment to look back at me as if I were an idiot. It was at that very moment I realized that the woman walking out to the garage was without question, a mom. And a damn good one at that. I was amazed at how quickly she had mastered the multi-tasking of motherhood, and how utterly useless I was. I am much better now. Fortunately for everyone I have learned a great deal from her over the years. I only hope she can see just how much I appreciate that fact and everything else that she has done for our family.

WAHOODAD/Paul Simpson
The sequence of events leading up to having a child was a lot like getting married.  There was an announcement, months of planning, the blessed event, a celebration with family and friends, some alone time, and then a return to the real world. Getting back into the routine after adding a child to the fold meant heading back to work. In our case, my wife took over as the provider. A dot-com layoff sealed my fate when my son was six weeks old. During my wife’s maternity leave one of her client companies offered her a position with enough of an increase for us to try to have me stay at home.

When the day came for her to start her new job, she left me with a cache of pumped breast milk, a copy of What to Expect When You’re Expecting, and a kiss on the cheek. I held my son and watched her pull out of the driveway, the car’s headlamps lighting the way through the predawn darkness. I looked down at him, swaddled in a blanket in my arms, and listened to him snore softly. He looked so content. It was in the stillness of that morning that I began to understand the magnitude of my wife’s gift to me and our son. I would care for him during the week. No hustling him out of the house in the morning or rushing to pick him up on time from day care. We could curl up on the couch for a nap anytime we wanted. At least one of his parents would be there for all his ‘firsts’—smile, roll over, tooth, crawl, word and steps. What an incredible gift.

That was over five years ago. Now, I’m experiencing it all over again with our second son. At least I have his helpful older brother to pitch in this time around. We have good days and bad days, but they are all our days. And we owe it all to their mother. I can’t possibly thank her enough for what she does for our family. She’s my friend, partner, and companion; but on this Mother’s Day I want her to know that of all the titles I know her by, I’m most fortunate and proud to call her the mother of my children. Happy Mother’s Day, T. I may not let you know it enough, but I love you. You’re the best.