Father's Day was weird for us this year. The kids spent it with Grandpa instead of Daddy for the first time. If my husband didn't consider the day just another Hallmark holiday, I would probably be sad about it, but it will probably be the last time this occurance will happen, so I hope he had a good day all on his own.
We gave Grandpa a new television and spanking new hernia to go along with it. It was classic, though, I pictured this wonderful day with the grandchildren and instead he injured himself lugging his brand new tv into the house, we bought a take out lunch that he couldn't stomach, and Jacob was in rare form climbing the walls literally, so Grandpa spent the afternoon watching Old School alone on his new electronics. So, no, I didn't get any good Father's Day pictures with Grandpa.
Tomorrow is my wedding anniversary. My husband and I have been married...let's see....seven years. WOW. It sure doesn't seem like that long, yet in some ways it feels like a lifetime. I have a good husband. I made a good choice. There is a reason I didn't get married until I was 30 and, no, it wasn't because I couldn't find anyone else. In fact, I found plenty of anyone elses, I was just smart enough not to marry them. Little story: The first time I met my husband I didn't like him. AT ALL. He seemed condescending and rude and completely full of himself and I was appalled that my sister wanted me to meet him because she felt we were "perfect" for each other. She continued to try and pawn him off on me for a couple years and I would laugh and continue to date complete losers just to have something to do and one day 11 summers ago (eleven? dang, I am old) he showed up for dinner at my parent's house when I just happened to be home for a visit, and the rest, as they say, is history. Once I realized I liked him, I knew I would marry him because he was everything I had been waiting for..... Fast forward seven years and here we are, no longer just us but with a houseful of kids and pets. It ain't all wine and roses, shoot, it ain't even beer and poppies half the time, but we keep going. I am grateful to have found a good father to help me raise these boys, just hate that he missed spending Father's Day with them.
All my life I thought I'd be the perfect mother. I even majored in it. I aced all the child development classes I took toward my degree in, wait for it, Early Childhood Development and Elementary Education.
And then they were born. First Jacob, who is 8, then Adam, who is 4, and our biggest surprise, Elizabeth who is 2.
As much as I really wanted to be, I am finding out I am no June Cleaver. For starters, The Beav never had a baby sister.