the heart of a father

Parenthood is many things.

It's choosing to get on the floor and play their game rather than sitting and indulging in a quietly unfolding Saturday morning. It’s reading the same books over and over because it’s just what she wants (even when you can repeat Brown Bear, Brown Bear in your sleep). It’s Lego building, video game playing, running sprints and soccer drills, all because he asked you to (please) do it with him.

It's putting in 8+ hour work days then coming home to a different kind of work (more fulfilling but just as, if not more, exhausting). It’s negotiating bottoms (not knees) on the chair at dinner, forks in the mouth (not the cup of milk) at the table. It’s the mundane task of scrubbing stacks of dirty dishes (while mediating sibling chaos), and then calling for bath time, teeth brushing, pajamas, then (the battle for) bed.

It's lying down at night and wondering if maybe you spoke a little too harshly when he kept asking for one more drink, one more book, just lay here a little longer with me, please. It’s feeling their soft, limber little bodies fold into you in the middle of the night when you can barely open your eyes but they just want to feel safe from whatever fear nighttime brings.

It's sharing your fries when you'd rather they eat their apples. Or jumping in the (frigid) swimming pool because they ask you to.

It's watching with delight as they develop an interest in your favorite childhood past time or beg for you to take them to that special place that means so much to you.

It's crouching down to receive a gleeful hug as soon as you arrive home, and listening to excited, words barely forming, breaths coming quickly explanations of the day they just had. The day they cannot wait to share with you.

It’s all these things.

And it’s so much more. More than words can capture. 

And I want you to know--I see you. I see how lovingly you respond to them.

I know how exhausting each day is. And I know the heart you have for living in the mess and delight of fatherhood. I see how they look at you, how they look for you as the afternoon becomes evening and dinner simmers on the stove. I know when you are abandoning what your pragmatic side really wants to do (That stack of mail that's piled up all week? Those baskets full of folded laundry that I am content to never put away?) to answer their calls to play. I see that. I know that's your heart responding.

You were made for them. And they for you. For us. You are the man Colin will model in fatherhood. You are the man from who Addison will learn mutual love and respect.

You are the father God created for our children. For you, on this day and everyday, I am forever grateful. It’s because of you that our children will always be able to live life abundantly, knowing,
without question, that your (our) love for them is eternal and unbound.

Happy Fathers Day, Christopher. The kids really are alright.

Our family, Easter Sunday 2017. 

Daddy and Colin special moments.


Colin's first boat ride.

Colin's first swim.

Louisville Slugger 

Silly noses
Their favorite past time--Legos!

Baking together.

Two peas. Looking at their St. Louis Zoo maps.

Daddy and Addison special moments.

One day old.


Addison's baptism.

Addison's first Christmas.

Two of my favorites in Mercer orange.

Reading together.

These moments are just that...moments. In our living we cannot capture them all. I (we) look forward to living and creating more moments with you.

Happiest of days to you, Love.


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