The theory of evolution has nothing to do with having children. Children are irrelevant. All we do, all we SACRIFICE, for our young, really means absolutely zero.*
Happy Father’s Day.
Except when those offspring mature to adulthood to produce their OWN offspring. Because, then, ladies and gentlemen, we are looking at evolution in action, because having children does nothing for your genetic line if it ends with them. Because your children need to learn from you, to grow, to reproduce, to continue forward, only forward, like Stannis Baratheon.
I reproduced, as many of you know. I bred. Twice. Miserable experience, pregnancy, no glowing, lots of stress, but it was worth it, because I got my genetic heirs, my littles, my loves. And now they watch, and learn, and grow, and are learning how to be people by the behavior I model with my co-parent.
And therein lies the lede, which I totally buried, because, sometimes, one just needs to wonder about evolution in the grand scheme of it all. The grand scheme, in which I have a life partner, someone I chose on a feral level, someone my lizard brain decided should be my mate in this dance we call reproduction, as Darwin sings in the background like a Greek chorus.
Therein we have Mark.
And Mark is an amazing, amazing father. Mark makes up for my shortcomings as a mother. Mark is silly, and serious, and sweet, and strong. Mark is teaching my children how to survive, to adapt, to prosper in every way, every day with everything he does.
Mark is Omri’s favorite. In the beginning, that stung a little, cause he was ripped out of MY stomach, goddamit, but you can’t fight nature, and nature imprinted Mark upon Omri as his protector, and partner in crime. When Omri is melting down, it’s Mark who can get him to breathe. When Omri will only eat one…slow…bite…at…a…time…and…only…with…literal…relentless…vocal…encouragement…for…every…goddamn…bite, Mark sits with him to finish his sandwich. When Omri wakes up at night, it’s Mark who can get him back to sleep.
Mark makes River laugh like no one else ever has. She giggles to the point that Mommy worries about vomit. He throws her in the air, and tickles the bottom of her feet, and does the voices and faces and slapstick tricks that Mommy is too shy to ever do, even though they’re River’s favorite. Mark is completely, wholly, all-encompassingly wrapped around River’s tiniest finger, and, sometimes when Mommy thinks about River’s wedding day, and Mark walking her down the aisle…oh, goddamn it, can’t even finish that without ugly crying.
Mark is my everything, as a co-parent, as a biological partner, as the Lord of House Greenstein and the Y chromosome of our genetic line. He is selfless, and compassionate, and knows, intrinsically, what his family needs, in every way. We are lucky. We are surviving. We are fit, and growing, and DROWNING in love, and I have everything I could possibly wish this auspicious day.
Happy Father’s Day, my love.