Lucas is in with the kids, trying to get them to bed... the first time in their own beds after a weekend away. And now Paige is sick, drippy nose and eyes {which might have a tiny bit of crazy lurking in them... .} Fynn and Paige both napped in the car on the way home from the inlaws ~ late late late in the afternoon ~ so bedtime is looking to be a monumental event filled with snuggles and struggles.
And I'm out here, nursing a sore throat and hung over with gratitude from witnessing my man in action all weekend. Super Daddy.
I wasn't going to write this post. I kept thinking that no one wants to read another Father's Day post. But then I slapped myself and reminded myself that I can write whatever I want to write in this space ;) Plus, these photos are just too darn cute not to share...
Anyway.
You can see it in the way he looks at his kids, and how they look at him. He exudes patience and kindness. And the big thing, the really huge and wonderful thing, is that he listens to them. And he hears them.
That alone, along with the countless trips to the ice cream stand and visits to the park, makes him such an incredible Daddy. It takes a special kind of person to stop and listen whole heartedly to a child. To hear them, and to know when it's important to slow down and just be. He gets that.
He also gets down on the floor and tickles and wrestles and gets jumped on and chased and chases and giggles and laughs and spins the kids around, and knows how to be silly. He teaches me so much every day. About love and parenting, marriage and friendship. How to have fun even when you don't want to.
And how to listen.
I love you...