All I wanted was strawberries

At 38 weeks pregnant, I'm into the weekly doctor appointments.  Usually, I end up waiting forever and then some random baby health indicator requires more monitoring or testing.  Two weeks ago I was there for six hours.  SIX.  HOURS.

Don't get me wrong, I want to check on her and I'll wait as long as it takes.  However, I'm not really gonna be happy about it.  Don't you know me at all?

Today I headed to my regular appointment, and amazingly I was only there for 40 minutes.  Sure, parking cost me 7 bucks, but everything looks fine and I didn't even have to wait.  Huh.  Having a lucky day.

So I thought to myself: well, maybe I have time to stop at the bank then.

The bank.  I HATE the bank.  I never go to the bank. I would take cash out of my iPhone if it would dispense it.  I use the internet and maybe an ATM whenever necessary, and I rip Hubby apart every time he makes an actual trip to an actual bank (old man).  I hate banks.

Unfortunately, though, I've had this one cheque for a month that I need to deposit, and it isn't a cheque that I can deposit into the machine.  I actually need to walk into a bank and speak to a human.

Instead of going to my regular branch near my house, I decided to stop on the way home from the doctor so I could also withdraw some cash in order to purchase fresh strawberries at the local fruit farm on the way home.

Strawberries are KEY, and much to my dismay, fruit farms don't accept MasterCard pay-pass.

I used my bank's iPhone app and found a nearby location.  Once I arrived, I stood in a stupid bank line and eventually made my way to the stupid bank teller.  And then it happened.

The fucking POWER WENT OUT. Right at that moment! I'm standing there, in a bank, in front of a human bank teller.  Not even my normal bank, but a bank that I made a special stop to visit.  And the whole place was rendered utterly useless by a lack of electricity.

So no cheque deposit, and worst of all, no fucking strawberries.  Story of my goddam life.

I bet parenting is a shit show. But he's got this.

I never really had to think about Father's Day, given that I never actually had one. I mean, sometimes it popped up here and there, but generally? Generally Father's Day doesn't really occur to me. 

Until this year, because this year HUBBY is the new father in my life. 

This little Fraggle is due to exit my womb in about 3 weeks (we'll see what she actually decides to do - she's indecisive, I can already tell... Like Hubby maybe!) and all I can think about is what a wicked dad my Hubby already is, let alone how awesome he'll be once he can actually, ya know, *see* his daughter. 

First, he will totally play with her. Not just "Hey let's play catch after dinner" but also "Hey let's get down on the floor and build forts! And stack blocks! And tackle each other! And tickle each other! And dress up dolls! And have a tea party! And bounce around on the exercise ball! And use power tools! And fix things! And run with a grocery cart, jump on it, and coast through the parking lot! And sing songs! And STRUM THE GUITAR! And hey I'll race ya!"  I picture Hubby as the "let's do anything you want to do" kind of dad, because: a) he's young at heart: and, b) he will in *no way* be able to resist her smile.

Second, he will understand her. I think he *may* have a little doubt on this one, simply because she's a girl - and growing up as the oldest of three boys makes him a little uncertain about girls. (Who can blame him? Girls are volitile and mysterious jerks.) However, it is, in my estimation, completely impossible for a sensitive and loving man such as my Hubby to not fully understand his daughter - or at least fully support and adore her, no matter what. Even when she needs a diaper change, or a pretty outfit, or a braid in her hair, or when she cries about some dumbass boy. She'll go to him for that stuff. She'll go to him for anything. 

Finally, Hubby will protect her - protect her in a way that I was never protected, a way that only a daddy can protect. That "you're safe in my arms and I will NEVER hurt you" kind of way that (no matter how much feminism I spit at people) I know I missed out on - even with a strong and independent momma. The way I see it, Fraggle will get the best of both worlds on this one. Me, being strong and conscientious on my own, but also knowing I depend on Hubby as my rock and my defender on a daily basis; and Hubby, being patient and helpful, and overall an active participant in his relationships. 

Hubby dear, I can't wait for you and I to tackle the SHIT SHOW that this whole parenting thing is bound to be. I wouldn't have it any other way. We got this. Hands down.