"Any man can be a father but it takes someone special to be a dad." -Anne Geddes
Last week was Father's Day. I didn't write a traditional post about it. Instead, I wrote one about me and my dad. I wanted to take a step back and reflect on the actual day. And after getting my first Blogger Idol assignment to introduce myself to the voters, I thought what better way than to share what I experienced.
Since my daughter is now four years old, Father's Day is starting to really mean something because she's old enough to be aware that there is a special day for me. And right there is where I have trouble.
While I certainly appreciate the wonderful cards (I actually choked up reading my wife's card because it was so spot on. How does she do that every time?), the gifts, the chocolate chip pancakes, the extra attention and affection, it makes me uncomfortable.
To me, every day is Father's Day because I am a dad every day. It's why I didn't mind planting some shrubs in the front yard and trimming the hedges on Father's Day. We don't get a day off. And while I truly cherish the rare opportunity to sleep in, I actually look forward to waking up early with my daughter on the weekends... most of the time. I work twelve hours a day, including commute. I get to see her for three hours a night during the week... maximum. And those hours are usually jam-packed with obligations like dinner, potty, teeth brushing and bath time.
Don't get me wrong, I find sleep to be a wonderful thing. We used to get along swimmingly. There was a period of time where we were best buds. Now? While I sleep well, I just don't sleep a lot. Fine.
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| How she sees me (apparently with one mutton chop) |
There is something inherently magical about sipping a cup of coffee while sitting on the couch in her play room as she is immersed in her Calico Critters, asking you to help her dress them. Then surprising her by saying "Let's go to Dunkin' Donuts" because it's 7:30am and you've already been awake for an hour. And no, you don't have to change out of your Dora nightgown first.
Sure, I teach her the rules and the manners and the traditions and I discipline her and protect her. But I love having fun with her the most.
What does my daughter think being a dad is all about? Well, she knows I am her ultimate playmate, I'm the guy she can knock around and - for the most part - get away with it. She knows that when I'm serious, she's in trouble.
She even knows what I wear to work. One morning recently I went into her room to kiss her goodbye and she was already awake. So I pounced on the unique opportunity to spend a little time with her. She asked me why I wasn't wearing a tie. And thus began our introductory lesson to casual Friday.
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| Time to play ball |
Alas, I received no tie. Not that I was disappointed. What I did get, was a lot of hugs and kisses, those tear-jerking cards, a new perspective on Father's Day, and a new bocce set.
Love, emotion, lessons, and games.
To me, that's what being a dad is all about. That's what I'm all about. I have no idea what I'm doing, but I'm doing the best I can.
Judges Comments:
"One mutton chop? I'm thinking more like an emo hairdo....lol. It's great that you cherish spending time with her like you do. I remember my oldest being that age,and thinking I had so much time to enjoy it, and then BAM! He was in school, and now he's almost in second grade. I miss all the words he cutely mispronounced, and when I could carry him around. Not saying this is a bad thing, but I think it's funny how once someone has a kid, that they start to identify themselves by their parental status, rather than the normal characteristics that people without children would use."
-Heather, from My Husband Ate All My Ice Cream
"This post is an excellent presentation of you without being over the top. I think your form is great, though some of the sentences were a little rough and run-on. Consider writing shorter sentences to get your longer thoughts across. Use more than one if you can't do the whole thought justice in a single go.
I loved the humor and the depth of feeling you conveyed. Definitely a bright start to the competition."
-Allison, from SVALLIE.NET: The Nerd Connection
"Dude, if you will rock the one mutton chop in real life, then brother, so will I!! Real men would wear it with a smile.
Great introduction to who you are and what you are about. I agree with Allison that some sentences did run on. It was (and sometimes still is) a writing faux pas for me as well. Short, structured sentences can do the same job.
Great post! "
-The Dude, from The Daddyyo Blog
Judges Comments:
"One mutton chop? I'm thinking more like an emo hairdo....lol. It's great that you cherish spending time with her like you do. I remember my oldest being that age,and thinking I had so much time to enjoy it, and then BAM! He was in school, and now he's almost in second grade. I miss all the words he cutely mispronounced, and when I could carry him around. Not saying this is a bad thing, but I think it's funny how once someone has a kid, that they start to identify themselves by their parental status, rather than the normal characteristics that people without children would use."
-Heather, from My Husband Ate All My Ice Cream
"This post is an excellent presentation of you without being over the top. I think your form is great, though some of the sentences were a little rough and run-on. Consider writing shorter sentences to get your longer thoughts across. Use more than one if you can't do the whole thought justice in a single go.
I loved the humor and the depth of feeling you conveyed. Definitely a bright start to the competition."
-Allison, from SVALLIE.NET: The Nerd Connection
"Dude, if you will rock the one mutton chop in real life, then brother, so will I!! Real men would wear it with a smile.
Great introduction to who you are and what you are about. I agree with Allison that some sentences did run on. It was (and sometimes still is) a writing faux pas for me as well. Short, structured sentences can do the same job.
Great post! "
-The Dude, from The Daddyyo Blog