This should’ve been a Father’s Day post. As it is, I’m four months late from when we celebrate it here in Australia (September) and five months early from when the rest of the world recognizes all the awesome (and maybe not-so-awesome) dads out there. But, listening to some women talk about the significant absence of their husbands in their children’s daily lives gave me a deeper appreciation for Jeff who has been very hands on with Raven’s development from Day 1.

Sure, his parenting style might be different to mine but his intentions are good. And he’s the one Raven calls from her potty to wipe her bum so that assures him a very good place in her heart. That kid has got him wrapped around her fingers, I’ll tell you that much.

“Papa, did you close the curtains in the lounge room?” she would ask. Or, “Papa, when are you going to cut the grass?” (At which I’d chime in, Yeah, Jeff, when?)

I know it’s hard for him to look after her during the day from working all night. Sleep-deprived as he might be, he still takes the time to fill in for me when I’m at work.

But then again, it’s his kid. Not like he’s got a choice.

*Raven at 3 years old