A Toast to Fathers

In my blog, I focus on the trials and joys of motherhood—and trust me, there's a lot of material there. But I realized that I've ignored another important part of parenting: the fathers.

So, here's to the Dads.

Here's to the men who get up in the middle of the night to bounce screaming newborns and change dirty diapers and hug their exhausted, teary-eyed partners.

To those who spend hours carrying babies and toddlers—in Baby Bjorns or in their arms or on their shoulders—not because they have to, but because they want to.

To the initiators of tickle fights and roughhousing that usually ends badly but is crazy FUN for so long before that.

Here's to the kissers of boo-boos and wipers of noses, the bedtime-story readers and the sneakers of illicit snacks. 

To those who bring to our daily struggles a different perspective, a new approach or just plain, much-needed moral support.

And to the many men I know who cook, clean, wash dishes and do other household chores that nobody wants to do but are necessary to keep domestic life running smoothly.

Here's to our partners in our parenting successes ("We finally got the kid to sleep!/potty-trained/to stop biting her sister!") and failures ("Uh oh, I guess we should have baby-proofed that door...") —all of which we will (hopefully) learn from.

Here's to the men we love, whose children adore them.

I guess, if we really had to, we could do it without you. But we wouldn't want to.