My husband and I were meant to be a team when we welcomed our first child, but he turned on me. Recently, I experienced one of the most embarrassing and eye-opening moments of my life. Let me backtrack a bit. My husband, Jake, 29, and I welcomed our beautiful daughter, Tilly, three weeks ago.
Whenever I ask Tilly’s father for help, he says, “Let me relax; my paternity leave is so short.” I’ve struggled alone with sleepless nights, and things went too far last Saturday during a family gathering. As the party progressed, Jake was busy telling everyone, “I needed this paternity leave because I couldn’t imagine how much more exhausted I would have been working AND taking care of the baby.”
Exhausted, I fainted right there in the middle of the party. I awoke to concerned family members and Jake’s frown. He later exploded at home, annoyed that I embarrassed him, accusing me of making him “look bad!”
Just as I was about to leave for my mom’s place, my in-laws arrived with a professional nanny they had hired. “She’s here to help with the baby and to teach Jake about caring for her,” my MIL explained. They also insisted I go on a spa retreat for a week.
Overwhelmed by their kindness, I immediately agreed. The week was blissful and helped me recover. Back home, the changes were remarkable! The nanny had put Jake through a rigorous “baby boot camp.” He learned to change diapers, cook baby meals, soothe a crying baby, and manage a sleep schedule. Jake greeted me with a heartfelt apology, having sold his vintage guitars to pay for the nanny and my retreat, showing his commitment to our family.
During a very cold night, a rich man and a homeless old man met.
On a freezing night, a wealthy man encountered a homeless old man and asked, “Aren’t you cold without a winter coat?” The old man replied, “I’m used to it.” Surprised, the rich man promised to bring him a warm coat and asked him to wait. The old man, hopeful, agreed.
However, the wealthy man forgot and didn’t return until morning, only to find the old man had passed away in the cold. A note was left behind: “I survived without warm clothes before, but your promise gave me hope. When that hope faded, so did my strength.”
Moral: Don’t make promises you can’t keep. What may seem small to you could mean everything to someone else.
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