Happy Father’s Day

Dear Husband,

In a way, I feel like there was no time in my life when I didn’t know you.

You remember that?  That was the first line of my wedding vows.

I’m not sure if I ever told you this, but I sorta kinda maybe decided I wanted you the second time I really noticed you.  The first time, you were still encumbered by that unfortunate ponytail and I thought you were a little full of yourself.  Sorry.  But that second time?  That was the time.  I just couldn’t shake the feeling that you should be mine.  That first night we hung out, smoking cigarettes on my dorm room floor, it seemed like I’d known you all along.

That feeling came and went over the years, I’ll admit.  While we were roaming the globe and dating other people, that feeling sat in the back row.  Patient, waiting.  Still, no matter how long it had been, or what had passed, seeing you was like coming home.  I don’t know how many times I circled around you in those years.  Leaving, coming, leaving again.  No matter where I thought I was going, my flight path traced the same repeating orbit, back to you.

And now we have children.  Beautiful, wise children who are flying away further and further every day.

I see the way you teach them honestly and never hide their world from them.

I see that you treat them as equal spiritual partners.

I see how their little bodies fly to yours when you walk through the door.

I see the ray of joy and the shadow of pain on your face, every time our children sheds a new skin and emerges a little older, different.

I see that you’re secretly checking behind bushes for kidnappers and scanning the sky for lightning that may strike your babies (even though there’s no storm).

I see you don’t turn away from poor behavior or unkind words, and show it to them each time, so they can learn.

I see your unconditional acceptance of who they are.

I see the father I always wanted for my children.

So here we are, the five of us.  Flying, landing, flying again, around and around, spiraling higher and higher.  Now, each time I look at one of you, it feels like home.  There was never a time in my life when I didn’t know you.

Happy Father’s Day.

All My Love,

Your Wife

Look at what we made, baby.

 


Ferbertizing My Eggs

This morning Mouse and Chipmunk wanted to talk about their parts.  Yeah, those parts.  Specifically, I walked in on them sitting on Mouse’s loft bed, comparing their girly bits.  When I opened the door to get them ready for the morning, Chipmunk cheerfully announced, “Look, Mommy, we looking at our pee-pee places!  Mina has big one!”  Best thing ever to hear first thing in the morning.  

Last year, I wrote about a talk between me and Mouse on a very related topic.  It seems appropriate to share it now, despite that it is an old discussion.  And really, all awkward sex talk is timeless.
Read the rest of this entry »


Truth, Lies, and the Politics of a Preschooler

Lately, Mouse and I have had a lot of discussions about truth and lies.  She’s been pretty late to this game; at heart, she has never been the type to spin tales.  She’s also previously been terrible at holding up to scrutiny.  Usually I’ll just ask her different versions of the same question, and she’s toast.

“Did you tell me the truth?  Yes. Did you tell me what actually happened?  Yes, mama. Did you lie?  Yes… Wait, mommy!”  (Crying ensues.)

Done. Read the rest of this entry »


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