Top 10 Reasons My Kids Are Lucky To Have Their Dad

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I have never made it a secret that I’m a mean mom. I make my kids do more chores than any of their friends (so they tell me), and they live with the consequences of their actions.

Mister Man left his home folder with all his completed homework on the dining room table this morning? Bummer for him.

My husband, however, he’s much nicer. Granted, he works hard and isn’t home as much as I am, so discipline naturally falls to me, but aside from that, he’s also the one who shows them he loves them on a daily basis.

My kids are lucky to have them as their dad, and they know it. And I remind them of it.

Top 10 Reasons My Kids are Lucky To Have Their Dad

Momma doesn’t volunteer for nonessential road trips.

When my son was in second grade, they studied national monuments. My son came home from school wanting to visit Mount Rushmore, the monument he’d chosen.

My husband immediately agreed to take him on a road trip to North Dakota that summer so he could experience it for himself.

Momma doesn’t do RV trips at all.

The quick three to four day trip to Mount Rushmore with Mister Man and my husband somehow morphed into an almost two week RV trip with my parents and included visiting not just Mount Rushmore but Yellowstone and other landmarks.

I can’t do RVs. I am scarred from a childhood trip and refuse to set foot in one, childish as that may be.

My husband took all that in stride and enjoyed the road trip not just with my kids but with my parents, too. They loved it so much they took another almost three week RV trip last summer to the Grand Canyon and beyond.

I stayed home both times, with nary a complaint from my husband.

Corollary: Momma doesn’t like to camp.

Mister Man is a Boy Scout. He absolutely loves it, and he’s determined to be an Eagle Scout.

Though my husband has no experience with scouting, he happily took up the reins of one more activity when I couldn’t add anything more. He’s the one who goes along on all the camping trips (or did – now Mister Man goes on his own!), sleeping on the hard ground and dealing with the weather.

And oh has he dealt with some weather on their trips. He may complain to me about the conditions, but he still goes out with Mister Man on the next one.

He provides the entertainment when camping.

My husband is the one that the Scout Masters always turn to when it’s story time. He has the best facial expressions and the best voices of any of the dads, and I’ve been told that his tales are always the most creative.

He’ll put on his headlamp and have both his hands free for storytelling. The kids eat it up.

He provides entertainment when I’m sick.

I get migraines. And they can be nasty ones.

There are days when I am upstairs in bed in the dark just trying to sleep if I can. My husband never complains, just takes over the childcare for the day and brings me water and chicken broth from time to time.

And the wee ones never complain if that means they get a little extra video game time.

He shares his love of sports with them.

I enjoy sports, but as busy as my life is every day, I’m not always up for the crowds and the drives to go to sporting events.

I’ll watch at home and teach the wee ones the rules of football and baseball and hockey, but as far as going to the games? That’s my husband who will randomly offer up to take them to a baseball game.

And they love it. He ensures they wear their jerseys and have a blast, even if the game drags on.

He does all the dishes.

This is one of those “I wrote it in the marriage vows” kind of agreements. My husband does dishes, puke, and garbage.

You know what that means? All those chores my kids have to do that they say I’m mean for making them do?

Every night, my husband washes out their lunch box containers so they’re ready for the next morning. At most, Mister Man has to provide my husband with a clean garbage bag, but he doesn’t have to actually take the garbage out.

Those are pretty standard kid jobs, so they’re lucky.

He never says no to begging popcorn eyes.

We make our popcorn on the stove. And when there is Movie Night with Mommy, the wee ones always beg for popcorn, no matter how stuffed they are.

This past weekend, my husband was driving to Wisconsin to pick Mister Man up from his camping trip while Little Miss had a friend over. He made popcorn for them before he left – and didn’t get to eat a morsel – so that there would be plenty for them to enjoy.

Daddy is in charge of finding and fixing all those fun things that break.

When Mister Man’s walkie talkies no longer work, Daddy makes them work again. When the basketball isn’t bouncy anymore, Daddy fills it up with air.

When the kite string breaks, Daddy fixes it so we can go out and have fun again. Too often, the repair is a dire emergency and has to be fixed now even when that means it’s pitch dark out.

Tomorrow is too late.

Thankfully, that headlamp comes in handy so that first thing we can scoot over to the park to fly our kites.

And the number one reason why my kids are lucky to have my husband as Daddy?

He always makes sure they have what they need.

A new Boy Scout, Mister Man is supposed to be responsible for all his gear. My husband – as I mentioned – has no experience with this whatsoever, so he’s winging it.

When they went on the first Boy Scout campout (and the only one parents attend) last month, he quickly found out that Boy Scouts provide their own reusable plates. He ran to Walmart and got Mister Man a great camping set of dishes and utensils.

And he picked him up his own headlamp so that Mister Man can set up his tent in the dark, find his way to the latrine in the middle of the night, and start to tell his own ghost stories around the fire.