MomTalk: In Celebration of Our Husbands, On Father's Day
The Patch Mamas each write a letter to their husbands this Fathers Day. What would yours say?
Last year we wrote about our Dads - this year we decided to write letters to our husbands.
Happy Fathers Day to all the Dads out there!
“Even though your kids will consistently do the exact opposite of what you're telling them to do, you have to keep loving them just as much.” Bill Cosby
You do so much for me and for our kids and so I would just like to say thank you.
Thank you for playing car wash with the kids when it’s bath time. I think we all agree that you are the “fun” parent. A little splashy, but fun.
Thank you for reading The Sorcerer’s Stone to Lily then switching to the Goblet of Fire with Ryan....all in full character. The kids and I can never have enough Harry Potter in their lives.
Thank you for playing The Berenstein Bear game, Chess, Super Why, and Pirate - Opoly, with our kids whenever the mood strikes them. That Pirate - Opoly game is just too darn complicated for me...
Thank you for grocery shopping...on Sunday mornings...at 7 a.m. I hear all the cool kids shop at the Basket on Sunday.
Thank you for not complaining that the DVR is filled with kid shows and cooking shows when I know you would prefer that it was filled with history shows and music shows.
This has nothing to do with parenting but it warrants mentioning....Thank you for watching the Bachelor(ette) with me on Monday nights. The show just wouldn’t be the same without your snarky comments.
Thank you for making us eat vegetables with dinner every night. Yuck.
Thank you for playing the Mummy game with the kids in the backyard. Even though I know your favorite part is lying on the slide in the sun pretending to be the sleeping Mummy while the kids hide.
Thank you for making Ryan’s lunch the night before. You do such a great job, I hereby nominate you for the honor of making Lily’s lunch next year as well.
Thank you for taking out the trash. Confession...The trash is gross and when you’re not here I let it pile up until you come back to dump it and then pretend I didn’t know it was getting that full.
Speaking of teaching...thank you for teaching the kids to be so self sufficient. All three kids can do so much on their own, and that is because you have taken the time to teach them and let them practice. It makes all our lives just a little bit easier....
Thank you for being you. Happy Father’s Day.
To my Husband on Fathers’ Day,
Last year, when I wrote about you for Patch on Fathers’ day, I talked about how you travel so much for work and how hard it is sometimes for me and the kids to be without you. This year, I am writing this article from Las Vegas, since I tagged along on one of your work trips for the first time.
And for the first time, I was leaving during those teary good-byes. I was getting on a plane and going thousands of miles from my children. As much as I am grateful for the break (thanks, Grandma & Papa!) it is really hard to leave and see how sad those little kiddos are. Usually I am the one drying the tears and offering comforting words, but this time, I am leaving with you. And man, it isn’t very fun. This time, I got to see your side.
Ok, truth be told, your side still looks pretty good to me. Between the first-class upgrades and the free bloody marys and the fancy, paid-for-by-someone-else hotel, this really isn’t so bad. For me, this is a little vacation, but for you, it is yet another work trip. How may have there been? Dallas, Phoenix, Denver, Buenos Aires, It seems like you are always going somewhere. I have said for years how lucky you are to get to travel, although I know that most of the time you would rather be home.
I have always been home and envied you for all the travelling you got to do. I wished the kids missed me as much as they miss you, but until now, I was always home with them. I am glad to have a chance to miss them. I know how much you love your babies and how it breaks your heart to see them cry when you leave. I know you read the letters they hide in your suitcase, and that for you, leaving the kids isn’t a “break” but a sacrifice. You love your work and you are great at what you do, but unfortunately it means missing your kids a lot of the time. I am grateful to be able to miss them too, for the novelty of being away just this once overshadows my sadness over leaving them. For you, there is no novelty, there is just a lot of time away.
So as I said last year, and as we will sing to the kids in a doofy duet tonight on the phone before they go to sleep — I love you in the morning, and in the afternoon, I love you in the evening, underneath the moon! Happy Fathers’ day!
I always knew you would be a terrific Dad; it was not a surprise to me at all that you have been hands on from the beginning. You insisted on giving our girls their first bath in the nursery at the hospital and have never stopped being there for them. Here we are almost 12 years later and you continue to do an amazing job.
The thing that stands out most in my mind’s eye about the moment our oldest daughter was born is the look on your face when you saw her for the first time. It was amazing to see the joy on your face. I fell in love with you all over again at that moment. You still get a look about you when you talk about our girls.
You worked hard for over a decade so that I could be home to take care of our girls and be there for them when they were babies and very young. We never had to worry about who had our girls. I also never had a worry if I went out and left the girls with you, they never minded their Mom heading out – why would they when they had you with them?
You teach our girls well by example and you make time for them. You also expect a lot from them and they know this and are better for it. You somehow manage to make everything fun for them too. I am sometimes jealous of your relationship with our girls, especially our tween. It is a tough age but you are always able to communicate so well with her and she is lucky to have you.
It is also important to remind you that you already have your ticket to Heaven. You got that ticket on March 25, 1995 when you married me!
All three of your girls are lucky to have you. We love you and appreciate you so very much.
With Father’s Day fast-approaching, this week’s Patch offering is for you. Writing a public letter to you and reflecting on your virtues as a father feels more awkward than I anticipated. Will it do you justice? Will it embarrass you?
The first thing I liked about you (besides superficial stuff like your looks and style) was how darn affable you were. Really affable, easy going and quick-to-laugh. You still have all these qualities in abundance. Oy! Where would we be without our sense of humor? Thank goodness you really get me. Many years ago, my mother said, half-amused and half-exasperated, that I’d know who my husband would be because he’d be the last man standing. I’m so glad it was you!
It makes me so happy and hopeful for our boys to have you as their primary role model for growing into men. You have intelligence, strength, compassion, integrity, resourcefulness, charm, humility, faith and a competitive nature that doesn’t sacrifice sportsmanship.
I love that you are generally trusting and open-minded (well, except when it comes to vacationing in a yurt…), particularly when it comes to parenting our boys. With very little experience with babies or big immediate families, I don’t recall you batting an eye when I proclaimed that I wanted to birth our first child at home. When I changed my preference to a birth center with midwives, you were right there with me. Never the prima donna, I admire how you were right in the thick of it with me, hands on and ever-supportive. I love that you didn’t have to be prodded into active parenthood, but rather declared that it was only fair that you should change the baby’s diapers at night since I was feeding him. If you were nervous handling a newborn, it never showed. Ever.
As we prepare to add our fifth son to the mix, I feel so happy for our boys that you are their father. They adore you and look up to your sports-coaching, cub-scout leading, guitar-playing, wrestling, song-inventing, barbecuing, bike-riding, chocolate-loving, adventure-taking self. Their mom thinks you’re pretty special, too.
Happy Father’s Day, Lovey!
When you proposed to me in Beverly’s Lynch Park back in 1999, I accepted on one condition: that we would one day have children. While you later confessed that you had your fingers crossed when you said yes to that, you have weathered the fatherhood storm with grace and dignity, growing in to a model dad.
There is no doubt that the kids and I have added untold stress to your life, but I hope that the screams and charging hugs you get from all of us when you come home from work balance that out. (And speaking of stress, always remember that your hair was gone before we got married, so you can’t blame us for that!)
I envy the “celebrity status” that you have in the kids’ lives and wouldn’t want it any other way. The way the kids light up and glow when they talk about you warms my heart and confirms that I made the right choice when I accepted your (slightly deceitful) marriage proposal.
Never one to look for the spotlight, you went and married a girl who loves it almost as much as her Venti Whole Milk Decaf Lattes. The kids are more like me than you in this way, and rather than running from it, you’ve embraced it and even stepped up to take on some spotlight of your own as a coach of both soccer and lacrosse. Reid will now have the same fond memories of his dad on the sidelines as you have of your dad from your childhood.
You have made many personal and professional sacrifices to give us the life that we have. Your decision to take a job that offers stability over excitement has allowed me to be home with the kids and corrupt them in ways that wouldn’t be possible if they were in day care.
You knew I was a crappy housekeeper and cook when you married me, and have kept your mouth shut as my minimal skills in both areas have declined steadily since having kids. Granted, on the off-chance I cook dinner, I no longer turn chicken breasts into shoe leather, but the day-to-day sustenance I provide pales in comparison to the family events your weekend meals have become. You make us eat well and involve Addie in the process, often starting the preparation in the morning and tending to your delicacies throughout the day. As you learned from your parents, Addie will surely cook for her family one day the way she learned from you.
I’ve always wondered how you ended up with me, you poor, poor sucker. Other than both being strikingly attractive (ha!), we couldn’t be much different. However it happened, I’m so glad you did. We make some pretty darn awesome kids, and I love the man and father you have become as a result of them.
I love you. Happy Father’s Day!