The Dads

Yesterday was for the grad, but today was for the dads.  My children are blessed to have a father who loves the Lord.  We do not take that for granted.  I am blessed to have a husband who loves me and loves our children selflessly.  We do not take that for granted either. 

This is Brian's tenth Father's Day (counting the year I was pregnant with Gavin). This is the first Father's Day he celebrates with five children surrounding him.  Never-mind that the toddler is having a toddler moment involving a block and a scowl.  He loves them all anyway.

We began this Father's Day with homemade cards and hand-colored wrapping paper, housing gifts that each child picked out.  We fixed Brian's favorite breakfast and cranked up the tunes on Grooveshark while I washed the dishes and the kids played.  

Idyllic, huh?  Not so much. 

Somewhere in the course of little boy play, Owen got poked in the eye.  At first we assumed it was a normal uncomfortable accident and that within minutes, the playing would resume and the eye would be forgotten.  Again...not so much.  Owen kept complaining of a sore eye and an hour later, it was still watering and he could not keep it open.  So on a happy Father's Day morn, he and his daddy headed off to the ER.  You know, in our 8 1/2 years of parenting, we have only made four visits to the ER and three of them have been with this child!  The official diagnosis was a corneal abrasion (a fancy way of saying that he has a large scratch over the surface of his eye).  He is scheduled to see an ophthalmologist this week and in the meantime, he is wearing sunglasses, even in the house, to keep him from rubbing his eye and because he is sensitive to light with his injury.  

Lest you think we let a visit to the hospital ruin our Father's Day plans, you are sadly mistaken.  After stopping by Target for pain medication, we headed on to lunch at my parents' house with my dad.  (Brian's dad passed away almost seven years ago.)  

We ate fresh fruit and food from the grill, laughed at silly stories, and played games.  Even though my dad is not a game-playing person, he faithfully plays Apples to Apples or Mexican Trains with us every Sunday afternoon.  He may always root for the person who is in the lead (to ensure that the game is over sooner), but he is a good sport.  I'll always remember that about my dad.  When I was a young teenager, I used to beg my dad to take me roller skating with our church group a couple of times a year.  I knew he didn't like to go, but when those Monday nights would roll around, he would come home from work and get right back in the car to drive me there and drive me back home. 

 Today, we also made time for a few extras.  No one needed to be convinced to make time for homemade banana pudding, more presents and a Sunday afternoon nap.  My dad reads the newspaper every Sunday afternoon...and every Sunday afternoon he falls asleep while  reading it.  The kids giggle when they catch him dozing... or snoring.  They love to pretend to snooze like their Papa, too.

I love that my boys want to be like their Papa.  I love that my boys want to be like their Daddy.  Gavin says when he grows up he wants to be a father and cut grass, too.  

I love that I can trust that whoever he becomes when he grows up, he will be a man of God because the men he is imitating are daily striving to be like their Father in Heaven.

Happy Father's Day, Brian!

Happy Father's Day, Dad!