Fathers

As I watched our daughter sleep soundly in the backseat, exhausted from a weekend full of lake activities, I found myself so overly grateful for the man behind the wheel. I may have given this man my heart many years ago, but he gave me something much greater in return- a beautiful girl with his olive skin and infectious grin and a penchant for dancing for no reason at all.

I could never thank him enough for giving me the world in the perfect form of our daughter.

Are you ever so unbelievably happy that it almost makes you sad because you think it can't possibly get any better? I'm there. I spent the weekend surrounded by my family, celebrating three great men (and missing my Poppy in Tampa) who have been and continue to be shining examples of what it means to be a dad.

(C got to spend some time with her Poppy while he was in town last weekend)

I watched my Big Daddy snuggle his great granddaughter, the same way he snuggled me 27 years ago.

I watched my dad play endlessly with his first grandchild with the same energy he had for my sister and me.

And I watched Husband, with the glow of new fatherhood still apparent over a year in, as he helped C slide down the elephant slide of my childhood over and over and over again, his complete focus and joy never waning. These are real men.

I consider myself lucky to have grown up surrounded by such honesty, humility, and strength. To have learned how to ride a bike, balance a checkbook, and drive a car from these men. I am grateful to have such high standards by which I measured every boy I ever dated - and to have finally found one who measured up.

One day all too soon, Husband will teach C how to ride a bike, and to balance a checkbook, and to drive a car. And one day, she will look back on those moments fondly, as she watches him rock her own baby to sleep; and she will silently thank him for teaching her how to be strong and kind and careful all at the same time. Because that's the great thing about good fathers- their daughters will never outgrow their Daddy.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

Husband

Nine years ago, I joined a group of my college freshmen girlfriends for a night out at fraternity row, where I met a cute sophomore boy at the Sigma Chi house. It would take a year for that boy to ask me out and another year between our first and second date, but finally, finally, the stars would align and we would be together. Forever.

On the 10th, we celebrated a very special birthday. My husband, a man I have known for nearly nine years and loved for seven, celebrated his twenty ninth birthday. And, while I know it is selfish, I consider his birthday a gift to me as well. Twenty nine years ago, a baby boy was born who would one day become a man, a husband, a father, and I am infinitely grateful for that day of birth that occurred almost two years before my own.

He's THREE

Honestly, I find it difficult to even begin to express what this man means to me. Husband is smarter than he admits and stronger than he knows. He works tirelessly to provide for our family and allows me to spend my days at home with our sweet girl. He has so many wonderful traits that I hope our daughter will inherit.

I am constantly amazed at his ability to befriend absolutely anyone with his immediate likeability. On our honeymoon, I awoke from a poolside nap to the sound of him leading a group of complete strangers in a "Roll Tide" at the swim up bar. He will inconvenience himself simply to make your life easier and will literally give you the shirt off his back (or the hard drive full of programs from his pocket).  


He is the biggest Alabama fan ever and has somehow managed to sway me from my Auburn roots. Really, that just means I wear crimson on Saturdays instead of orange, but he convinced me nonetheless.


He makes special events special. My gifts pale in comparison to his. When he gives a gift, it is clear that he has put months of thought and effort into it. Our first Christmas together, he gave me custom made shoe racks that he built himself, after measuring my tallest heels to make sure they would fit. And when my 21st birthday celebration was derailed by Hurricane Katrina, he set up a party in my apartment and even made my birthday cake. 

He is an honest man and believes in the value of hard work, but also believes it is important to have what has become known as an "Andrew Saturday" every now and then. He has taught me how to put the check list down and to appreciate these Saturdays of non scheduled bliss, full of good food, good beer, and good company.


It is rare that one finds someone who balances them so completely. Someone who knows you better than you know yourself, and who isn't afraid to keep you in check. On good days and bad, he is exactly the man I need in my life and I am thankful every day for his.

I love this man. And so does his little girl.

Happy birthday (month), my love. I celebrate your birth every day.