i’m not quite sure when my desire to have children with you started. i think before i met you, and your mom was trying to get us together, she told me you wanted to get married and have a family someday. i wanted that too.
and when we were working in the jr. high dept. at church, you always had so much fun goofing around with the kids. i knew you’d be a fun dad.
and when you’d trek along for my babysitting excursions, you were so helpful and fun and the kids loved you.
and then we got married and started planning for a family.
we were told we were infertile, but you didn’t want to give up easily. adoption had been weighing heavily on our hearts and you told our fertility specialist who gave us a 50% chance of conceiving via in vitro that if we’d adopt, we’d have had 100% chance of becoming parents. you were ready to be a dad.
then we met them.
our first three. and i watched our boys look up to you and try to copy all of the things you do to care for us.
and i watched our little girl fall in love with you. and i fell more in love with you as i watched you love her.
our first three know no other daddy than you. they know no other fatherly love than your love, and our Heavenly Father’s.
and now i’m watching, first row, center stage, you be a daddy to our next three. as our first set of three has turned into six, i’m in awe of the father you are.
there have been nights you’ve been up with our 18 month old son for a couple of hours straight, like last night. you change his diaper, put lotion on his itchy eczema skin, lay him on your chest so he can calm down and sleep, and then you scoot over so you hardly have any room on the bed so he can have room to roll around and spread out.
there was the other night, when our 5 year old son was laying on our bed listening to you talk about the video games you played as a kid. he was listening so intently. he really wanted to know. it struck me that this child who had been so badly abused and neglected could be so comfortable laying there talking with you. his side pressed into my leg as i sat next to him and his face lit up with each game you mentioned.
you are kind and gentle with him, in a way possibly no man has ever been.
and you’re teaching him so much.
i’m not quite sure when our three year old daughter started calling you chicken daddy. but i am quite sure that though she sometimes calls you mr. josh, you are her chicken daddy and she’s not afraid to let people know it. she can often be heard saying, “mr. josh? he’s my chicken daddy.”
perhaps the best example of who you are as a daddy is summed up in this conversation i had with her.
“why you boys not play the dancing game?”
she loves wii dance kids and wondered why the boys would choose super mario bros. instead.
“well, they wanted to play this game instead.”
“when i have kids, they gonna play the dancing game.”
“are you going to have kids? are you going to be a mommy when you get big?”
“yeah, i gonna be a mommy. and my boys gonna be big. and my daughter, her gonna be a nice girl. and we gonna have a daddy like mr. josh. my kids gonna have a daddy.”
“and we gonna have a daddy like mr. josh. my kids gonna have a daddy.”
happy father’s day babe.
you daily take up the cause of the fatherless.
you’re the best.
i love you.