What makes a great father?
I know that I am fortunate to have an awesome dad. Although I am extremely close to my mother, I have always been quite the daddy's girl.
Growing up, my dad was always the fun one - making up silly dances and nicknames to keep us laughing, doing his mean Bill Cosby impression - but he also had a serious side. My parents were pretty broke when we were little, so my dad would work days and be home with us in the evenings while my mom worked nights. He would cook us dinner, play with us and get us to bed relatively unscathed (not including the time where I fell out of my chair and knocked my front tooth out when I was four or five). And our good relationship continues today - he is always willing to help us out with things that need to get done around the house, and we have him over for dinner and to hang with the boys anytime, especially when my mom is out of town.
Based on my experiences, I could never imagine anyone else living up to my high standards of fatherhood - but my hubby has. He is a wonderful father, and he shows it in countless little ways each and every day. He cooks Harrison his favorite breakfast - eggs - even though the smell makes him sick to his stomach. He takes care of the boys so I can shower and blow dry my hair uninterrupted on occasion. He changes countless stinky diapers. He plays basketball and choo-choos and reads "Peef the Christmas Bear" a million times without a word of complaint. He gives Harrison his "water baths." And he does it all with a smile on his face and a heaping dose of patience (well, most of the time - nobody is perfect).
Today, I was reminded many times of what a great dad my hubby is. When we were at the Great Escape this morning, he waited in line at this one particular ride with Harrison at least three times, even though he knew that when it came time to actually go on the ride, Harrison would change his mind. He kept us entertained and made us laugh by doing a silly dance while we were on the (painfully boring) train ride. And he found the humor in the situation when an overtired Harrison refused to let go of his breadstick that he brought home from the restaurant where we had dinner tonight - leading us to adopt the "no breadsticks in the bathtub" mantra. (Seriously, the breadstick thing was out of control - at one point, he was pretending that it was a car and even named it "Fancy Lady.")
My boys are lucky to grow up with a wonderful dad like him, and I am fortunate to have him as my husband. Happy Father's Day, Hubby!
Growing up, my dad was always the fun one - making up silly dances and nicknames to keep us laughing, doing his mean Bill Cosby impression - but he also had a serious side. My parents were pretty broke when we were little, so my dad would work days and be home with us in the evenings while my mom worked nights. He would cook us dinner, play with us and get us to bed relatively unscathed (not including the time where I fell out of my chair and knocked my front tooth out when I was four or five). And our good relationship continues today - he is always willing to help us out with things that need to get done around the house, and we have him over for dinner and to hang with the boys anytime, especially when my mom is out of town.
Based on my experiences, I could never imagine anyone else living up to my high standards of fatherhood - but my hubby has. He is a wonderful father, and he shows it in countless little ways each and every day. He cooks Harrison his favorite breakfast - eggs - even though the smell makes him sick to his stomach. He takes care of the boys so I can shower and blow dry my hair uninterrupted on occasion. He changes countless stinky diapers. He plays basketball and choo-choos and reads "Peef the Christmas Bear" a million times without a word of complaint. He gives Harrison his "water baths." And he does it all with a smile on his face and a heaping dose of patience (well, most of the time - nobody is perfect).
Today, I was reminded many times of what a great dad my hubby is. When we were at the Great Escape this morning, he waited in line at this one particular ride with Harrison at least three times, even though he knew that when it came time to actually go on the ride, Harrison would change his mind. He kept us entertained and made us laugh by doing a silly dance while we were on the (painfully boring) train ride. And he found the humor in the situation when an overtired Harrison refused to let go of his breadstick that he brought home from the restaurant where we had dinner tonight - leading us to adopt the "no breadsticks in the bathtub" mantra. (Seriously, the breadstick thing was out of control - at one point, he was pretending that it was a car and even named it "Fancy Lady.")
My boys are lucky to grow up with a wonderful dad like him, and I am fortunate to have him as my husband. Happy Father's Day, Hubby!
posted by Daisy | 7:11 PM
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