A Letter to All You Second-Time Around Daddies: You're Bootiful

I fell in love with my man all over again tonight.

Thank you, Halloween.

I've never been a fan of the Oct. 31 spooktacular. Stupidtacular, was more like it.
I love playing dressup, but adding warts, lumps, bumps? Not my thing.
Usually I put on a miniskirt, some fishnets, some bangles and tell everyone who asks: Yes, I'm Pat Benatar.
Really, I'm Sarah Crosbie in a miniskirt, some fishnets and some bangles.
Yesterday though, was different.
The BF is Halloween obsessed. Is there a clinical term for someone consumed with the orange and black holiday, I wonder?

For weeks, he's been buying bits and pieces for our house: A furry black spider. A fog machine. A skeleton. A baby black spider. A tombstone.
Weeks ago, he came home so excited I thought we'd won the jackpot. Ah, no. He merely wanted to tell me how we were going to have sound effects at our home - thunder and lightning.

Yesterday, in Kingston, it rained almost the whole day. I was sure it was going to thunder and lightning for real and it would ruin the BF and all the kiddies' excitement, but the rain held during the precious hours from 5 to 9 p.m.

So much work went into decorating our home, I'm sure it was the best one in town.
The BF had a million wires running from the inside of our house to the hedges outside which concealed lights and speakers so he could simulate thunder and lightning.

A giant spider hung from our house - and controlled by the man, the wizard, behind the curtain.

A skeleton spun around our front porch - created from two oscillating fans.

Would, could our little display weather the storm?

But it didn't matter to me if it rained all night and no one showed up; just seeing the BF put it altogether was worth all the money, time, energy and sweat that went into the project. He says he does it because he loves scaring the kiddies. I think he also did it because I'd never seen his haunted house. I also think he did it because his children love it. And because his new son, though he's only two months old, had never seen anything like it.

Which brings to me what I really want to say: Our elaborate Halloween setup made me realize just how hard and demanding it is to be a second-time-around daddy.

Us younger gals who fall in love with these men (and there are many of us) demand that:

A) They love us;
B) They commit to us;
C) They stay faithful to us;
D) And, if we want them, they have children with us - even though if they're in their 30s, 40s or 50s, they've likely already had children.

Sure, it's a compliment to these guys that we want their children.

Many of us want their babies because we have the privilege of already seeing what they're like as fathers.

The BF is already an outstanding father. I saw that the first time I had breakfast with him and his son. We were sitting at Dennys, eating pancakes and eggs, and the BF kept his arm around his son's shoulder the whole time.

It was then that I knew he was a stellar father.

So, these guys fall in love with younger women and they instantly know they have to make a huge sacrifice. Instead of living the stereotypical life of an older man - sleeping in, visiting the kids at university, wining and dining, travelling and, I need to say it one more time, sleeping in, these guys are doing it all over again.

Waking at 4 a.m. to help with feedings. Buying baby toys. Talking about what kind of day care we want. Being thrifty while we survive with one less paycheque while I stay at home for a year. Waking at 4 a.m., 5 a.m., 6 a.m. Changing mustard poo diapers.

Decorating another house for Halloween - and now knowing you'll be doing it for the next 17 years. When you're 64.

To all of you who are brave enough (crazy enough? maybe you're senile already?) to do this all over again, thank you.

What would our lives be without you?