This is dedicated to the Dad in this house. I will not mention the wonderfulness of him as a husband but will focus on the spectacular man that is my girls’ Daddy.
On April 1st 2006 he was officially Daddy and he embraced it from the beginning. He read books, listened to my gripes, took Lamaze and talked to my belly daily. On the day Teagan was born he was there for the entire 22 hour process. Sleeping in a chair just to be in my room. Upon seeing her tears rolled down his cheeks in joy. Joy that has only been duplicated once since that day. That would be of course the day that little Kaitlyn was born. Daddy was there once again, the complete 21 hours. Waiting for his duplicate to be born. And she is the spitting image of her father.
He had not changed a single diaper in his entire life until his little girls. That didn’t stop him from being hands on in changing, feeding, rocking bears to sleep and when they just wouldn’t sleep, he held them. On nights when they would cry I might have gotten their first but he was just a step behind. It has never been just me in the middle of the night during an illness. He is there getting anything to ease their pain.
Daddy is the fun one. The playful one. The one who chases them and allows them to chase and catch him. Daddy is the one who sets up their shows so they can watch them on their computer. He is the one who lets them have that extra cookie. Daddy is the one who lets them plays in puddles or with sticks and doesn’t cringe at the dirt. He’s the tickler, the peek-a-boo-er, and the best horsey ride in town.
He does more than most Dads. But more importantly his love for them rivals the love Mother’s have for their children. I have seen pain stencil his face when they are sick. Joy at their every little achievement and later recounting the moment repeatedly with pride. The emotion I witness the most is love. When his girls climb up in his lap to watch a show or drink a bottle they meld into him and you can actually see his heart melt.
I am thankful he is my husband but I am BLESSED he is their Father.
Happy Father’s Day sweetheart.
On April 1st 2006 he was officially Daddy and he embraced it from the beginning. He read books, listened to my gripes, took Lamaze and talked to my belly daily. On the day Teagan was born he was there for the entire 22 hour process. Sleeping in a chair just to be in my room. Upon seeing her tears rolled down his cheeks in joy. Joy that has only been duplicated once since that day. That would be of course the day that little Kaitlyn was born. Daddy was there once again, the complete 21 hours. Waiting for his duplicate to be born. And she is the spitting image of her father.
He had not changed a single diaper in his entire life until his little girls. That didn’t stop him from being hands on in changing, feeding, rocking bears to sleep and when they just wouldn’t sleep, he held them. On nights when they would cry I might have gotten their first but he was just a step behind. It has never been just me in the middle of the night during an illness. He is there getting anything to ease their pain.
Daddy is the fun one. The playful one. The one who chases them and allows them to chase and catch him. Daddy is the one who sets up their shows so they can watch them on their computer. He is the one who lets them have that extra cookie. Daddy is the one who lets them plays in puddles or with sticks and doesn’t cringe at the dirt. He’s the tickler, the peek-a-boo-er, and the best horsey ride in town.
He does more than most Dads. But more importantly his love for them rivals the love Mother’s have for their children. I have seen pain stencil his face when they are sick. Joy at their every little achievement and later recounting the moment repeatedly with pride. The emotion I witness the most is love. When his girls climb up in his lap to watch a show or drink a bottle they meld into him and you can actually see his heart melt.
I am thankful he is my husband but I am BLESSED he is their Father.
Happy Father’s Day sweetheart.
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