The hamper is never going to happen. And that's OK.

My husband is good at many things. He was a standout football player and a widely respected special forces officer. He's a terrific athlete, coach, father and husband, and a wildly successful grad student. He is tough, loyal, thoughtful, and smart. He helps out around the house, sends flowers, remembers birthdays, and inspires lots of people- including me- every day.  

There are actually very few things he's bad at (unless you happen to be a fan of safe driving.) He's not terrific with money- a kid in a candy store has nothing on Seth Nieman and Cabela's. He owns a kegerator, a full-sized deer target, a never-used pool table, and the other day I came home to find- no joke- a set of throwing knives he had ordered.

He's also bad at saying no: the offer of a bear hunt in Manitoba has been under discussion for weeks, as it stands to obliterate Memorial Day weekend AND our anniversary. Not to mention prime thesis-writing time. But I know it's killing him to consider passing it up.

And he is awful at getting up with the baby at night.

This didn't used to be a huge thing, since I had to get up to pump or nurse anyway. But now she's up at all hours teething, and I'm starting to walk around like a zombie. Last night Seth offered to take a turn. I dumped Finley next to him and went to go warm a bottle, and when I got back he was dead asleep, his arm around her while she squirmed and wailed and gnashed her toothless gums. I tried again. I woke him up and handed him the bottle. Within 30 seconds he was fast asleep with the bottle in hand but not Finley's mouth, a steady stream of milk running down her face.

At the end of the day, sometimes you just have to pick your battles. Seth is never going to hear the baby monitor, or give the 3am bottle, and it's not because he doesn't want to. It's just not in the cards. On the other hand, when he walks into the room, Finley lights up like the fourth of July. He does daycare dropoff and most of the pickups, and he and Finley have an adorable morning routine that involves him building her a baby recliner so she can watch "Sheriff Callie" while he gets ready. He even knows the theme song. And he gives her the most adorable baths that leave our bathroom looking like Noah should send the ark.

Men think that women, when we get together, spend the time complaining about our husbands and how their socks never wind up in the hamper. They're mostly wrong. Michelle and I went for our annual jog along the parkway this Sunday (the George Washington Parkway Ten Miler), and talk- as always- quickly turned from the elusive hamper to the necessity of letting go of the things you can't change and loving and admiring our husbands for the millions of really terrific things they do, and the incredible husbands and fathers and partners they are.

And mine's really something else. On top of Dad duty and school demands, he's been working hard at throwing the shotput as an amputee. Friday, he competed in his first meet- the Texas Regional Games- and had a couple of phenomenal throws. Finley and I were bummed we couldn't make it to see him in person, but we had our hands full back at the ranch (I honestly do not know how single parents do it.) And it looks like Seth will make it to the Paralympic World Championships this year, so we plan to go cheer him on in Toronto.

As for our girls' day Saturday, out of sheer desperation I took Finley to Tyson's Corner to try to distract her from her teething misery. It turned out to be perfect. Loud enough to drown out a cranky baby, and chaotic enough to keep her interested.

Plus she made her first trip to lululemon! A momentous occasion if there ever was one.

I love this photo. We were hanging out Friday night, and Finley kept looking over at her basket of toys (my attempt to keep the living room from looking like Toys 'R Us) to see what else was in it. Finally, she grabbed the rope handle, pulled it toward her, and peered inside. Miraculously, I caught the moment. 

Oh. Also, she loves avocado applesauce, suddenly. (I've started making her baby food and experimenting with flavors. She was skeptical up until the end of last week. We're so excited for her to eat real food!) Sometimes it even gets in her mouth.