What would we do without Daddy in this house? The following is an homage to the man of our house on the occasion of Father's Day (you know, the one four months ago).
If there is one person these kids' world revolves around it is their daddy. "Daaaadddddy!" is the sound I hear in the middle of the night and first thing in the morning from our little princess. It is also what I hear from her when she's in trouble with me or I'm trying to put her to bed at night (which is typically a Daddy task). Such a Daddy's girl. Clearly she wants so little to do with me that I am not the major contributor to her rottenness.
"Daddy, will you play with me?" comes out of Nathan's mouth a minimum of 1,483 times daily (more on the weekend) and starts 0.00478 seconds after Daddy enters the room. I have to literally interrupt the fun to get Daddy to help me with something around the house all the while enduring the guilt inducing looks from my children as they are being so egregiously deprived of their daddy's attention. Oh, don't get me wrong, I don't actually feel guilty. Mostly because during such tasks the munchkins are still attached to him (aka "helping") especially if such task is taking out the trash, getting something from the garage, or checking the mail. Nathan even begrudges Daddy the time he needs to spend answering nature's calls. Such hard little task masters.
Daddy is the fun one in our house (and frankly more likely to obey their every command). He is the fetcher of juice (or milk, or water, or goldfish), the cleaner of spills, the jungle gym and pack mule. He will willingly color, play princesses and tea party while attempting to simultaneously play with superheroes and rescue bots. He's the one that can lift them to touch the ceiling (over and over and over again), "fly" them around the yard, play tag until even Nathan wears out, and wrestle on the floor. It's really no wonder they prefer him.
Daddy definitely has the patient pants in our house. When I start to get flustered by yet another mess or spill he says, "I just expect her to make a big mess, so when she does it isn't a big deal." It takes a lot to bother the daddy...unless he's hungry...then things don't go well... (I think Olivia inherited this gene). But the rest of the time he's just happy to make them happy. He'll frequently ask me if I would like to play with the kids while he does the chores, but I am a poor substitute for the Daddy and Nathan is especially quick to ask when Daddy can play again. This has a direct correlation to his inability to multi-task when he has them by himself, but I digress.
Father's Day this year was largely spent driving back to Katy from Sinton where we had spent the weekend with family. I had given Jimmy his Father's Day present (BBQ pit) a few weeks before and he opened the crafts from the kids before we left town. You may recall that Olivia isn't a quiet traveler and most of our trip home was spent listening to her whine/cry/scream or some combination thereof while Hercules (Nathan's movie of choice) played in the background. So the day itself was not relaxing or ideal in any way. Sorry, honey!
The munchkins and I are so lucky to have the Daddy here to take care of us. He brings balance to our family and backs me up when things get crazy. He isn't a complete pushover with the kids and knows when to use the "stern daddy voice" effectively. He changes diapers, gives baths and wipes bottoms like a champ. Sure, he has a hard time matching Olivia's clothes and everyone can tell when Daddy made Olivia's pony tail, but what would life be without a little challenge? I can't imagine our world without him. I'm looking forward to the years when there will be more time for "just us" but until then am so blessed to have him here to help parent our babies.
We love you, Daddy!
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