Oh, Jack Pearson. How all women have fallen in love with this magnificent (and hot) soul from This is Us almost overnight. He’s handsome. He’s buff. He rocks a mustache for crying out loud. But, better yet – he’s a kick-ass father and husband.
Well, ladies – turns out I am married to a real-life version.
Instead of a full head of hair, though, my husband rocks a Mr. Clean shaved head. Instead of a stocky stature, he stands poised at 6 feet even. Instead of an old drinking habit, he loves Michigan Football and has a colossal man-crush on Jim Harbaugh and Tom Brady. Hail to the Michigan men. But, these are where the differences stop.
Jack, the Father
My husband is constantly making me look bad. I am the mother – ya know, the one who carried the babies for 9 months, had a c-section, and a VBAC that lasted 50 grueling hours? Remember me, dear sweet babies? The one they sure as heck don’t when their dad is around.
In the evenings and on the weekends, my husband can be seen playing Legos, having a tea party, reading Dr. Seuss, and building puzzles. He never feel like he has to do these things.
Just last weekend my two and four-year-old were struggling one morning to get along for one whole minute. Spontaneously, my Jack decided to take the kids into one of their bedrooms to pretend that they were hiding from ghosts. Mean ghosts and jovial ghosts alike were trying to break into their bedroom. This imaginary play lasted an entire hour. Squeals, laughs and screams were heard all of the way down the hall. They were in their dad’s euphoric daydream and never wanted to escape it.
Jack, the Husband
On our seventh wedding anniversary, my husband surprised me with a small present. I was confused at first- we don’t give each other gifts for this annual occasion. Instead, we spend money on a weekend away together. So, I unwrapped the green little box and inside was 6-inch white tube that read “Anti-itching Cream.” He wanted me to avoid the seven-year itch, and of course, the joke didn’t hurt either.
On mornings after our second child spent the whole night crying, I was beyond ornery. There’s no way around it, I was a bear. To lighten the mood, he went to our iPad, placed it in the kitchen where we were all crankily eating breakfast. He then, began to play – in the middle of August – Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer. Christmas in the summer, it was. Mood changed. The rest of the day was fine because of my Jack Pearson.
Poor Rebecca, Poor me (Ok, not really. We are pretty lucky)
Yes, my own Jack pushes me to be better – every single day. He challenges me. But honestly, when the parent competition is that fierce, it’s quite daunting. I’ll never measure up to that amount of perfect. Mondays are always hard because it’s back-to-reality for the kids – bye-bye, Daddy. They’re stuck with boring Mom now. They never seize to gang up on Mommy, taking it out on boring ‘ol me.
Now yes, there are times when he loses his $h1t on his children. Instead of being annoyed by this though, I take pleasure in it. Thank, God. Mr. Jack has his moments too. I am often relieved when he goes ballistic on our kids, or me for that matter, because he spends so much of his time being wonderful that it can be exhausting to keep up with.
So, cheers to all the Jacks out there. Keep making your wives look bad, because we wouldn’t want it any other way.
Tell us about the Jack in your life….
