There may be no greater delight than…
- Watching my girls giggle together
- Seeing them cuddled next to one another with arms slung above their heads fast asleep
- Hearing the old one talk to the new one
- Hearing the new one coo at the first one
- Dreaming of the fun they’ll some day have–telling secrets, sharing sorrow, growing in love
Ahhh…how sweet it is!
Thank you. You probably don’t hear it enough from me. Today I am feeling so grateful for having you to “do life” with me. You have a way of making problems disappear. You put stressful situations into perspective; you are the calm to my storm.
Today has been a busy Father’s Day for you–moving this morning wasn’t an ideal way to spend our Sunday. Another house. A lot more stuff. A wife and two kids who are all three pretty useless moving things… And then tonight, as you left to play in the park with Ale, I felt my heart swell with happiness. Your girls love you so much, and I know that there is little you wouldn’t do for them.
I never expected to meet you when I came to Mexico. I came to bask in my singleness–to regain my power. I had no idea that you were waiting for me. You exceed my expectations daily, and I say a silent prayer of thankfulness to have you around me. You make me a better person with your constant support and guidance.
I realize that it is a sacrifice to stay home with the baby again, and I am so grateful! She is building a relationship with you, and every guy she dates will be held up next to you for comparison. Furthermore, I leave my babies knowing they gave the best care that anyone could give. Josie will grow up like Ale: loving her “pops” more than anyone, begging to “hang out” with him instead of sleeping, and one day soon, she’ll greet you with a “Happy Fadder’s Day!”
So today, Fadder’s Day, I want to say thank you, my love. Thank you for your positivity, your strength, and your wisdom. Happy Father’s Day to you.
I love conversations that we have with our three year old. She picks up on so much these days, and then will ask about it days later. The following is a conversation we had today:
Victor: Mami is going to stay home.
Ale: No! Mami is going to work all day at the school. She is a teacher.
Victor: What about you?
Ale: I am a teacher too.
Me: What do you teach?
Ale: I teach babies how to smile…
ahhh…cue the melting heart. I hope that is the only type of education you decide to enter, my love.
I am a literacy coach. It is literally my job to promote reading and writing. I love seeing the way Ale is growing as a young reader and writer, and I try to encourage her to “write.” I rejoice in watching her fine motor skills develop as she, now purposefully, grips her pencils. I bought crayons long before she had the strength to make them show up on paper. She has had notebooks for years that we carry along for busy hands. She has an art box from my dreams overflowing with colors, stickers, and scraps of paper for her to glue.
Unfortunately, in our family, it has become a common question: “Ale, where can you write with that?” She always replies, “Only on paper!” That’s because we’re discovering all the places that we shouldn’t write, and our list grew again today:
1). Walls. Beware of the quiet child with markers. Watch out for sneaky glances as three year old hands hide markers in the folds of her skirt while backing out the room. And finally, if someone tells you to stay as she runs the opposite way, you should follow.
2). Tables. Just because your paper is on the table doesn’t mean you should write on the table…
3). Couches. The couch has its own rule book. Food and drinks aren’t allowed there. Play Doh is also on the list. Shoes aren’t welcome anymore either.
4). Books. This is hard to explain. It IS paper. There are pictures. Some books are for writing. Others aren’t. Most aren’t. So, back. Away. From. The. Book. With. Your. Markers!
5). Babies. Don’t do it. Of all the places you’ve written, this may be the one I least expected. You shouldn’t write on babies…
This is what I came home to this afternoon, with an excited three year old telling me she “painted” the baby.