Happy Father's Day!

Tomorrow is Father's Day.

Kind of a weird thing.  I lost my dad this past fall, and that makes it sort of bittersweet.  I have my hubby, who is an unbelievable dad, and I certainly think he's worth celebrating.  But he works tomorrow, so we are left to just having breakfast with him.  It's funny how Father's Day is.  You look at the cards in the Father's Day section, and they focus on (basically) four things:  golf, fishing, grilling, and beer.  I know that Mother's Day is a different kind of deal, but I can't help but notice this stuff.

On Mother's Day, most of the cards you see are either pretty flowery feminine ones, or else they are poking fun at how much we moms need a break.  But on Mother's Day, I don't know any moms who actually do get a break.  Father's Day, however, has not been driven to the same level in our society where we need to book brunch reservations two months in advance or help the kids make a breakfast for them to bring their dad in bed (which I think actually only happens on TV on Mother's Day--I've never known anyone that actually had this happen).

Fair or not, Father's Day passes by without much hurrah, other than the home improvement stores having huge sales.  Maybe the dads of the world are all right with that.  I suppose many men are uncomfortable with events where they are the center of attention, and let's be honest--I think a lot of dads that golf get plenty of golf time, dads that fish get fishing time, and dads that grill and drink beer get plenty of opportunities to do that as well.  We as a society don't pay enough attention to what these dads do that really does deserve celebration.

So I'm going to think about what my own hubby does that makes him exceptional.  Because I truly believe he is worthy of a Father's Day.

My husband is a fantastic Dad.  He is affectionate.  Aggressively affectionate.  He will squeeze them until it almost hurts.  If they are laying on the couch he will tell them how tired he is and then proceed to flop down over them and squish them while they giggle like crazy.  He tells them over and over, every day, that he loves them.  He still tucks them in at night, even though that has evolved to checking in on them, shutting their lights off, a quick chat and a wish for a good sleep.

He helps them with their homework.  When he is home in the evenings, it is usually him that sits with them to get through their homework.  He is the one that helped J come up with his science fair idea, and then helped him get it finished.  He has made multiplication flash cards for A, that A keeps in a special box in his room.  He tells them about what school was like for him, and truly understands when they are struggling in any way.

He jokes around with them.  He teases them, and teaches them to not take life too seriously.  He texts A things like, "you are a dork", and thinks it's hilarious when A sends back a similar dig.  He also teaches them to be kind, that bullying is one of the worst things a person can do, and gives them tips on how to be a good friend.

He is a coach.  He plays catch with them, both with a football and baseball.  He attends all their sporting events.  He gives them tips.  He watches sports with them.  He shows them videos of amazing plays.  He is proud of them, and they know he is.  He wrestles with them.  He throws the ball hard for them, teaching them to be unafraid.  He trusts them as they grow up, knows what they can handle and what they can't.

He is an unbelievably hard worker.  He works his full time job to support us, and he has made it possible for me to fulfill my dream of being a stay-at-home mom.  He bought this beautiful place for us to make our home, and has spent countless hours working on it, perfecting it, repairing it, restoring it, improving it.  He knows how to do everything.  I'm not joking.  Electrical projects, plumbing, landscaping, carpentry, concrete, working on machinery, auto maintenance, you name it.  I am endlessly impressed with him.

He is spiritual.  He has a strong faith in God and Heaven, and he is unashamed of his belief.  He feels a strong connection to loved ones we have lost.  He had a profound love for his mom, and it has made him the man he is.

He is crazy smart.  He reads newspapers from all over the world.  He is always aware of current events, politics, and economics.  He is extremely difficult to argue with because he is so well read.

He has endless patience for his kids and for me.  He has never, in the almost 19 years we have been together, spoken to me in anger.  And I can be irritating.  He is more patient with the boys than I am.  He is truly, truly kind and loving.

He is creative.  He writes.  He plays and creates music.  He has a twisted, story-telling mind.  He is funny.

He loves his wife.  No matter how chubby I feel.  He loves me.  He loves me even when I haven't showered in a couple days and I'm wearing grubby yoga pants.  He loves me when I haven't even thought about dinner and at 5:30 at night we're trying to figure out what to feed the kids.  He loves me even though I don't keep a perfect house and leave my bras on the floor.  He thinks I'm funny.  He thinks I'm creative.  He is proud of me when I can't bring myself to be proud of myself.  He makes me desperately wish I could see myself through his eyes.  He makes me feel like I'm a good mom.

I don't know what I'm going to give him tomorrow.  I got him a card.  I got him a DVD.  We're taking him to breakfast.  I can think of a couple other things, but I am not going to write them here....

All I know is I am blessed.  I got the best of the best.  I don't know how I managed it, but I did.  And there isn't a tie or a set of golf clubs that could thank him enough.

Happy Father's Day!