My Dad and My Husband

On Sunday, it was Father's Day. Since we celebrated Father's Day on Saturday, I figured I'd save my Father's Day post for later in the week. Considering the celebration was normal for my family crazy and definitely atypical, I figured why do anything else normally.

In my dad's eyes, I'm his princess. He always sees the best in me and doesn't seem to believe I have that raving bitch inside me that occasionally fights to get out.

My dad was there for me when I was little and broke my leg. He carried me the 2 1/2 miles out of the salt mines in Germany when my leg wouldn't hold me. He fought the doctor who wanted to cut my knee open and probably saved me a life time of problems. And, he was there to push and prod me through the physical therapy that made my knee work again. He created home versions of the physical therapy gadgets and made me work when I didn't want to.

My dad was always there for me during middle school. He made me feel good about myself when the bullies little jack asses I went to school with made me feel lower than low. And, he stuck with me when I felt like algebra was winning and I got into screaming arguments with him about it. My dad managed to put up with the raving lunatic I turned into when I was studying algebra and actually taught me enough about it that I love it today.

My dad knows me well enough that he realized a beautiful stuffed animal would give me something to hold onto when I was grieving over our lost babies and didn't feel like I could show it to anyone else.

My dad has always treated my mother with decency, honor, and respect. He never hesitated to tell her and to tell each of us how much he loves us. And, he always, always taught us to believe that we can do whatever we set our minds to. He taught me to expect a true partnership from the man I love.

My husband is my heart, my soul, my love. He is the only man I would want to go through life with and definitely the only one I want to raise children with. He is strong and works his ass of to take care of me and the kids. Vic is an incredible husband and an even better father.

When I think about Vic as a dad, I remember right after Marty was born. Vic was the one who pushed Marty's bassinet from the operating room back to our room in labor and delivery. He sang to Marty the whole way.

I remember Vic taking Marty out in the car to go watch the planes at the local airport or to drive through the construction zones because he had to see the mighty machines (that's what he called construction equipment).

I also remember him taking Marty on little half day trips to wander through the mall or to see something cool in a store just because he knew Marty would love it and I would value the down time.

And, I remember him catering to my every whim and craving while I was pregnant and I especially think about Vic and Marty driving 45 minutes one way because I had a craving for Krispy Kreme doughnuts.

I think about him reining his panic in when we made the trip to the hospital the night Joey was born. And, when it became clear Joey was going to be born that night, he put up with my irrational demands to call out friend and have her pick up my camera because "Damn it, I can't do this without a camera here." After Joey was delivered, he went with him to the nursery even though his instinct was to stay with me until I cam out of anesthesia. He did it because he knew I would want one of us to be there with our baby.

I think about him having to take care of our newborn and our 4 yr old when I ended up back in the hospital 8 days after delivering Joey. And, he did it by himself because we were still stuck in an itty-bitty apartment with no room for anyone else to stay (but that's a story for another time).


I think about his listening to the same song and watching the same video over and over again because that was the song Joey loved and then I think about him reading the barely tolerated Teletubby books (in a perfect teletubby voice) because that would always make Joey laugh.

I think about him holding me and assuring me that it wasn't my fault when I broke down and sobbed how sorry I was after we lost our 5th (or was it 6th) baby.

I think about how happy he was when we finally made it through the pregnancy that brought us Gabe. I think about him once again sitting behind the blue surgical drape with me and not even wincing as I gripped his hand tighter and tighter until we finally heard Gabe's cry.

I think about how he indulges Gabe's volcano obsession with lots of tv shows and dvds and unending readings of the latest volcano book.

I watch Vic as he teaches our boys by example how to grow into fine, respectable, hardworking young men. Like my dad, he clearly shows the boys it's ok to express and show your love for people. He also shows them that being a provider sometimes means sacrificing for your family. Vic does a lot for this family both by working and by doing things around the house. He has helped me to teach the boys how to do laundry and how to cook and how to mow the lawn. Like I said earlier, Vic is a great husband and an even better father.

Fathers like my dad and like Vic should be valued each and every day, not just on Father's Day. So, dad, I love you and am lucky that you are my dad. And Vic, I can't begin to tell you how much I love you and how much you mean to me. Thank you for being my husband and the father of my children.

Happy Father's Day (either 2 days late or 363 day early)!