I remember the first birthday we celebrated together was your 24th! We went shopping together because you did not own a suit and I told you that you needed to start wearing one to church on Sundays.
We had only been dating 1 month and 1 day, but you went along with my preference.
Most of the birthday’s between then and now have been really stressful. Birthdays are just different when your (frequently pregnant) wife/children’s needs come before your wants.
Today, you woke up early with the kids because you agreed to let me shoot an early morning photography session.
Two hours of taking care of the children’s needs while mom was away, was followed by preparing yourself for your senior engineering group project (capstone). You could have met up with your group on Sunday, but your wife said that Sunday was not a good day to spend hours away from home and it was right in the middle of church. Again, you went along with my preference.
I’m so proud of all you have accomplished in the years since that first birthday we celebrated together.
Thank you for being such a great dad.
Thank you for agreeing to make your own birthday dinner – because I’m tired from all that I do.
Today, after church, I was sitting on the couch reading (Danny was in the garage) while Wiley played Angry Birds on the iPad.
Wiley made his signature “I just put something smelly in my diaper” move –
“Wiley, do you need to sit on the toilet?” no response…slowly starts to crawl away under the coffee table.
I pick up the iPad and turn it off, “you can have it back when you bring a diaper and wipes to me.”
He runs off and starts playing in his room.
Five minutes later, he is still playing in his room and I am still reading on the couch.
Danny comes in from the garage and heads to Wiley’s room.
Wiley stands up, back against the wall, “what are you doing in here daddy?” “what are you doing in here?” The smell is pretty obvious and Danny says, “are you poopy??”
I, sitting on the couch, knowing full well that he was and let Danny discover it – was waiting for Danny to bring the child. Danny changed it and never said a word to me. 🙂
I would say that those kinds of things make a mother’s day and makes me so grateful for fathers.
Studying. I just needed help for a few minutes. Generally, Danny doesn’t hold babies when he studies.
Family night…Danny took one for the team and helped put this puzzle together.
Wiley dresses himself some days.
It’s kinda of frustrating at our house, but it’s straight up embarrassing at someone elses.
Yeah, I think these two boys will be the best of friends.
Here is my Mother-in-law’s side of the family. Pawpaw and Gregre in the front surrounded by their posterity.
He showed my husband, by his example, to go to church and to serve when asked.
Rubbing Max’s tummy after dinner.
Danny is in the middle and is 6’4…that makes his uncles how tall?
The only animal that Wiley was scared of were the Hippos
Dan feeding the two little guys chocolate covered raisons…
Papa after a long morning of fishing.
Yep, perfect day.
I’m grateful for the fathers that raised me and Danny. I’m grateful for my grandfathers. I’m grateful for the male role models in my life, who are great fathers. I’m grateful to the divorced women in my life who still honor fatherhood and teach their children to love and honor their dads. I’m so blessed to have so many reasons to be grateful.
I lived with these grandparents for five and a half years during undergrad. So, they are kinda like parents.
Bay Area, California – right before I got sick and found out I was pregnant.
San Francisco, CA – 1986 exactly a year before my husband was born…meanwhile, I’m four years old.
My dad is a pretty good chef, but his specialty is chocolate.
My Dad in Kenya – He was in the Navy…
Grandad aged 23 on his wedding day.
I recreated some famous paintings with sharpie.
At take your child to work day on base (Dad was a US Naval Officer), the base reporter asked to take a photo of us for the paper…wear she recorded my knee high socks – WITH sandals – wow I was a stud-ette.
I was scratching myself the rest of the night. Cheese!
Grandad is being silly.
I was much happier this second round of photos. I also happened to be leaving for the UK the next morning….
Here is Grambo’s family after our Christmas Day game of Yankee Swap (gag gifts).
The Whites – The majority of my mom’s side of the family.
Maternal Grandparents enjoying a day at the park.
I realized right before the photos that I still had the bun on top of my head – that how I wear it when I cook….
Grandad, “the Tenant”, with my baby.
The Grundler Family
Dad has said that because of my mom and me, his Admiral always liked him.
Gratefully we grew other veggies too – besides all that zucchini.
This photoshopped photo captures the chill of the early evening and the blue of my eyes… what isn’t real are those dazzling white teeth. Those are more of a light cream color.
His + Mine = Ours
Thankful to my Father in heaven, who gave me all that I have. I may have gone overboard with the photos this post, but it’s my blog and I can post what I want to. Blessings and Happiness to you all. p.s. while I napped…he made his own Father’s Day Dinner! But, I bought the steaks!!
Several years ago, while living in Utah, I was ordering a sandwich at Subway, along with my older sister Kelsey. I recall using the name of the female employee (well, the name shown on her employee name tag) while giving my order and after I thanked her for my sandwich, I bid her ‘goodnight.’
On the way to my sister’s car I said, “I like to use people’s names, because it makes them feel special.”
I will never forget what my sister told me…
Kelsey said, “she is special Kate, you were just reminding her she was.”
Dang, I should have known better! Of course she is special!
Something Pablo Picasso quoted his mother saying to him made me think about the sons I’m raising,
“When I was a child my mother said to me, ‘If you become a soldier, you’ll be a general. If you become a monk, you’ll be the pope.’ Instead I became a painter and wound up as Picasso.”
It struck me that, although my mother didn’t say the same thing to me, it was how my mother raised me that lead me to feel special.
Sure, when I was a little girl I wanted to be Miss America – she got a crown, a dozen roses and a strut down the runway with falling confetti.
What child didn’t want to go to the Olympics and represent their country for a chance to win a medal? Well, I wanted to do that too…but,
I didn’t need those things in my life to feel special.
I was raised by a mother and a father who loved me – they gave me their time, they listened to me, they counseled me (even when I didn’t want to receive it), and when I came home late, my father was always waiting.
It’s my hope, that my children will grow to know they are special – with an Olympic medal around their neck or not.
My two year old can be so sweet to his dad and I – he loves to give hugs and kisses – he loves high-fives and snuggling.
It is so sweet to see how much Wiley loves his new brother too.
Wiley will hug and kiss that little baby all day long.
But in between all those hugs and kisses, a raging two year old tantrum-bully exists.
When we are with friends, family or around other small children – the bully comes out.
Where do toddlers keep the On and Off switch?
Why he would hit a cute 7 month old baby girl on the head, with a toy plane, is beyond me…
and that 1 year old girl was just standing next to her mommy, when my son ran by and pushed her down…three separate times.
Yesterday he got kicked out of our church nursery, for the third time this year, for trying to scratch another child (previous offenses for biting).
Today the tantrums started – the moment – I went in his room to get him out of bed.
“get OUT! Go away!”
I left his room (obviously he wanted more time to himself…) but, the second I left he screamed and wailed for my return.
REPEAT three or four times.
the fourth time I just sat in his bedroom doorway and listened as he screamed for me to leave. When he stopped screaming, I told him I loved him.
I mean, he is tried me many a time the last few months, but this behavior was totally foreign to me.
When I finally got him out of bed to change his diaper – the tantrum continued – the internal conflict of whether or not he wanted out of the peed diaper from over night.
When the diaper crisis ended, Wiley whined over what he wanted to eat and which toys he wanted me to hand him.
Dad got home from school, to eat lunch, and it was his turn to witness the epic meltdown over what nature video Wiley wanted to watch and whether or not he wanted to eat popcorn with his nature video.
It was during the popcorn meltdown, that I decided, years from now this two year old boy would be a teenaged boy and will probably die with embarrassment over his mother’s behavior in front of his friends (and someday girlfriends…he he he).
I will relish every “embarrassing moment” that teenaged Wiley goes through, because darn it, I earned them.