Monday, June 22, 2009

Fathers Day

I generally struggle with Fathers Day. I find all of the cards to be far too generous and sentimental for the feelings I have for my father. For some reason Hallmark just doesn't make a card that says "Thanks for... whatever it was you did. In a pinch I'd always choose mom. Just so you know."

My father did not walk me down the aisle at my first wedding. He's not technically invited to my second. I talk to him once every 4-6 months. Maybe. He's "processing" my pregnancy and has no qualms about telling me about everything I'm doing wrong in my life. And that's okay. That's who he is and that's how he lives his life and somewhere deep in the recesses of my soul I love him for it.

I still keep hoping that a letter will arrive in my mailbox one day telling me that my real father was the mailman. I keep hope alive.

Luckily for my children, they do not have such a father. Their father can be absent. But he can also be totally there, even from a million miles away. (Or at least in another continent) He generally can be the calm quiet one while I'm the raving lunatic. He can't remember the last time he spanked a child and well, I. I know it was last Friday. But he's not always the most flexible or most understanding guy either. He's in the military. And sometimes his way of thinking isn't very gray at all but rather concrete black and white. Sometimes that's great. Sometimes that sucks for everyone.

My children have also recently acquired another daddy-like guy. We call him Micah. Kylie actually doesn't talk to him a whole lot. But Lizzie. Lizzie adores him. Thinks he hung the moon. He's greater than sliced bread and ALMOST as good a Disney Princess nightgown. Sometimes she slips up and calls him daddy. Sometimes she calls him Micah.

Friday afternoon she brought home a poem and picture she made at school for fathers day. She painted the background herself but there is obviously a lot of effort on the teachers part as well. She carried it in the house even though the thing is almost as tall as she is to show Micah. He saw it and asked if she was going to send it to her daddy for Father's Day. She said "No Daddy. It's for you." He didn't cry. I did though. (Side note but I cry at everything. I think I cry at least 3 times a day right now. It's extreme.)

Happy Fathers day, belated, to the fathers out there, especially ones who are funny, stern, loving and helpful to children. Even those that aren't theirs.

He's so going to kill me when he see's this blog.


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