I hope that Father's Day was delightful enough for each of you.
I'm glad that Ben didn't require breakfast in bed to be assured of our love for him because it didn't happen. There's something about Church at 8:30 am.
We don't always see eye to eye.
I don't think you can cram all the love and appreciation you feel for a dad into one day, anyway.
That being said, I'm still thrilled to celebrate fathers.
They're pretty fantastic and very much worth the effort.
The influence of my own dad is alive and kickin'. I'm stopped short when something comes out of me that is so utterly "my dad," especially because I swore as a kid that I'd never be like him (when being cool seemed more important than almost anything else).
I'm glad we grow-up.
I'm glad we change.
I'm glad we can see the error of our ways, because I had no idea how lucky I was.
I had no idea how lucky I was when I married this guy, either. The years have proved it.
I am what I am because of who I married 12 years ago.
He's maximized the goodness in me.
And I love him for it.
The roles we play as Mom and Dad are so different.
I talk more. He acts.
I teach more with words. He teaches more by doing.
Put the two together, we make a pretty good team.
He's the perfect dad for us.
Ben is like his own father. Here's their motto:
"He didn't tell me how to live; he lived, and let me watch him do it."
As much as I hate to say this (lover of words that I am), sometimes words are overrated.
Some people don't need words to make a point.
They're actions speak loud enough.
Ben is teaching our kids to DO.
He's pretty good at that.
This Father's Day, we counted our blessings that he's ours.