I’m a stay-at-home mom, which means I witness everything. Nothing gets missed. Nothing gets edited out. And if there’s one thing I can say with confidence, it’s this: my husband is patient… most of the time.
He works full-time as a registered nurse, spending his days calm, compassionate, and professional. He handles real emergencies, high stress, and big emotions like it’s second nature.
At home, that patience shows up in real ways—but like any parent, he has his limits. Too much whining and the patience meter starts to dip. And every now and then, he playfully annoys the kids on purpose, joking and teasing just enough to make them laugh… or send them running to me to complain. I usually know exactly why they’re here.
And then there are sports.
When his team is winning, he yells at the TV like the coach personally asked for his input. The kids freeze. Someone drops a tablet. Everyone slowly looks at me like, Is this normal? I assure them it is. This is just Dad celebrating.
When he plays video games with our boys, it is anything but quiet. It’s loud. Competitive. Intense. Every game feels like the final round of a world championship. Someone is winning too much. Someone else is definitely cheating. Voices rise. Feelings get hurt. Occasionally, a child storms off dramatically.
And somehow… he keeps playing.
Because underneath the noise and competitiveness is a dad who wants to be involved. He pauses the game. He talks it through. He explains sportsmanship. He reminds everyone it’s “just for fun,” while still trying very hard to win.
The kids always come back. Because they know he’s choosing them. They know he wants to be there—even when things get loud.
Today is his birthday, and I just want to say this: thank you for being patient where it matters, playful where it counts, and showing up for us.
Happy Birthday to the man who works hard, plays loud, and loves hard.🎉
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