K has officially entered the stage of favoring me over his Mother for things. It’s interesting to me because I am the “strict” parent, whereas my Wife is the “easy going” parent – she’s the fun one and I am the rules guy.
K’s always been a Mumma’s boy, not to say he doesn’t love hanging out with me or whatever but his personality and my Wife’s personality are so damn similar. Even in looks he’s like a mini, male version of my Wife.
Regardless, now it’s “No, I need to talk to Dad about this” or “Hey Dad, come here!” – whereas before it would have been either of us, or his Mother. Now when my Wife responds, he occasionally specifies that it’s a Dad-related thing.
This is actually adorable, but to be honest has me feeling like I’m less qualified than ever before. Hah. I guess despite having raised this kiddo since he was 11 months old, I can’t ever shake that feeling that there’s just a bunch of male related shit that I am probably not the best authority on.
And logically speaking I know that’s just my own personal insecurities, but there you have it.
Anyway – we get the keys for our house this Friday. It’s all we are thinking about – dreaming about, talking about. We did the final inspection yesterday, and when we pulled into the driveway my Wife looked at me and said “Welcome Home!”… I’m not the most emotional man ever but I definitely almost cried.
I’m super excited to spend some quality Father/Son time with K painting his room whatever colour he chooses, getting him to help me with all of the million DIY things I have planned. My Father is coming to help fix a leak in our laundry and install a new toilet (he’s was a plumber before he retired) and I plan to have K help, even if it’s just passing tools. That’s the kind of shit I fondly reflect on with my father, being knee deep in a trench “helping” (although upon reflection he was just entertaining me… I was likely hindering!).