The First Few Breaths of Summer

I can remember counting down the minutes for summer vacation as a kid and just about hour into it proclaiming to my mom that I was “bored”.  That used to just about kill her, she would eventually get so sick of hearing us say it that she would threaten to give us chores to do so we wouldn’t be “bored” anymore; we would inevitably find something to do in order to avoid that sentence.  And so I would like to pat myself on the back because one week into my summer vacation and I have not been bored a single minute.  In fact, I’m a little tired.  But I’ll take busy, chaotic days with my girl and the people I love over just about anything else. 

We started the week off with a day in the park with one of our littlest buddies where Kennedy did her best to lure Zoe to climb things with her but settled for being able to push her on the swings.  I love to be around these kiddos but I’d be lying if I said it didn’t make my heart call out of Jack when I watch her learning to walk and smile those big, beautiful one-year-old smiles. 

Sean left for the annual golf/fishing/man trip that the men in my family take in honor of my grandpa early Thursday morning and so that began a girl’s weekend for Kennedy and me.  It also was her last day of her first year of preschool-and that just about killed me.  As I dropped her off and she hopped out of the car in the drop-off lane and waved and said over her shoulder, “have a good day, Mama,” it dawned on me how fast this year flew and how fast the rest are going to go; so I did what any mother in her right mind does:  I had a good cry as I pulled out of the parking lot and then I called my mom. 

First day of Preschool

Last day of Preschool

After I picked her up my sister and I drove the kids up to Lake George to the Great Escape amusement park for the day.  My sister and I took turns riding with Mason who is still too little to ride the kiddie rides alone, each of us taking one for the team with the nausea in the heat.  I hit a low point as an adult when they wanted to go on this hot-air balloon ride that spun around pretty good because when Kennedy and Cooper got on and got themselves settled in the seat of their choosing I decided to pull rank and proclaim that I needed that seat with Mason so “he didn’t get sick moving backwards.”  They begrudgingly switched and we all got settled in just in time for the ride to start…moving in the opposite direction that I thought it would so that Mason and I were the one riding backwards to which he yelled, “this is fun!” and Auntie Tri held the vomit down as best she could. I lied to children to get my way and Karma took over.  It was a long but fun day that ended with my little lady curling up next to me in bed-something she had been looking forward to doing since we told her Daddy was going away (our bed is a strict no toddlers-unless-your-sick-zone).

Friday was an errands day that we managed to squeeze manicures into.

Yesterday we made our way to the country with my mom where my sister lives and into the local strawberry patch. I seemed to keep finding all of the strawberries that must have had a "little extra genetic material" and maybe its that I look for them subconsciously or maybe it's my little guy's way of reminding me he is with me wherever I go.  We picked, no exaggeration, ten pounds, and headed back to my sister’s for a dip in the pool and to make some homemade jam.  I ate all of that up (seriously, I’m still sticky I think after washing my hands at least a dozen times and showering that night).  I have decided that, like Olivia Pope, I may just live out my days making jam.

Kennedy and I woke up early this morning to clean the house and make some Father’s Day paintings for her grandpa’s, a few guys that make her one lucky little granddaughter, and waited for our favorite guy to come home.  I asked her what she loves about her daddy while she was swinging and quickly switched my phone into video mode and the results were priceless.  She loves when he kisses her, and tickles her, and scares her, and beeps his horn at her.  It’s funny because all of the small things that probably come through so effortlessly are the things she loves about him.  And I know what she means because those are the same kinds of things I love about him too and they are the same kinds of things I love about my own dad too.

 So after a week of enjoyable chaos we will wind down and celebrate the daddies in our lives we loves so much and I will continue to to my best to make sure none of use are "bored" this summer.

Oh and I have traffic court tomorrow- which my own daddy will be driving me to.  Oh to be a father…

A Father's Love

A father’s love comes in all shapes and sizes.  It manifests itself in so many and sometimes even strange ways- talking to friends and family members over the years that became very clear to me.  I could find their father’s love for them in the stories they’ve told me, even those ones that didn’t paint dear old dad in the best light.  Even when I think back to times when my dad and me butted heads during the teenage years, as a parent now, I can find the love that was present if I look hard enough.  Some dads hug and kiss their kids non-stop.  Others stand on the sidelines at countless sporting events no matter the weather.  Other dads yell at their kids to remember to change the oil in their car or teach them to change a tire.  Some dads are a healthy mix of all of that and more.  My children?  They are some of the lucky ones that hit the jackpot when it comes to fathers.  Sean and I made out pretty damn good too. 

Friday night I had made plans with some girlfriends and wasn’t going to be around for dinner.  Sean decided he was going to make some chicken parm for dinner, making the sauce and frying the cutlets before I’d left; already I was impressed because if he’s not going to be around for dinner I usually pour Kennedy and I a bowl of cereal and call it a night.  While I was out I happened to check my phone and saw he’d tagged me in a picture he’d posted on Instagram.  When I saw it I remembered why I love this man so much.  He gotten himself and Kennedy all dressed up and they had a candlelight dinner, complete with a glass of wine and Capri Sun.  He’s that kind of dad.

I think because of his easygoing disposition it is sometimes easy to forget that Sean has a broken heart too.  Though it often looks different for him than it does me, it’s got some cracks in it just the same.  This has to be the case for most dads in a similar position to Sean’s.  So today, though I woke up with a heavy heart, I vowed to myself that today would be about Sean.  We’d celebrate him being a daddy, however that would look this year.

So how did that look for Sean?  What does the first Father’s Day of a grieving dad look like?  Something like this:

-      -Waking up before me to feed the dog and let him out, stopping in Kennedy’s room to turn on some Disney Jr. for her and came back to bed (I was already kicking myself here that I hadn’t gotten up first).

-       -Smiling when Kennedy came into bed with us and forced her way into the middle because she wanted to lay next to daddy, who she told, unprompted, was her best friend.

-      - Showing the perfect amount of excitement to thrill our little girl who excitedly gave the Father’s Day cards we’d picked out.

-       -Cleaning up an ENTIRE bowl of spilled cereal and milk from the coffee table without grumbling once (he had me beat here too).

-       -Taking care to pick out his clothes for brunch and planning what time we’d leave the house in order to have enough time make the stops we needed to before our reservation.

-       -Standing next to me, rubbing my back as I cried, at the cemetery asking what I though Jack would be able to do at this point if he were here still.  We both liked to think he’d smile a lot.

-       -Stopping at a Target no where near our house so we could pick up a 4^th curtain panel even though it killed him to spend so much on curtains when he wanted to leave the window open and bright.

-       -Sitting at the table at the restaurant with a smile on his face even though I was so annoyed no one had come by to ask if we’d wanted a drink after sitting for over 10 minutes.

-       -Never complaining about how hot and humid it was to be sitting outside when that is all I could do, even if I was the one who had asked to be seated out there.

-       -Allowing Kennedy to sit on his lap even though she’s a little hotbox that has to increase one’s body temperature by at least 10 degrees.

-      - Pointing out a robin’s nest to Kennedy that was made inside her favorite horse sculpture at the restaurant even though it forced us to stand there longer than he’d probably wanted to.

-       -Patiently standing as I took picture after picture, trying to get at least one of him and our little girl who was opting not to cooperate today.

It went on like this all day.  The point is what did Sean’s first Father’s Day as a grieving father look like?  Much the same as any other day looks.  He manages to continue on being the loving, patient, and consistent father and husband he always has been despite the loss he’s endured.  And try as I might to make things about him, he is happy when his girls are happy and he spends his days trying to make sure we are.

Happy Father’s Day to the boy I fell in love with 12 years ago that became the daddy to a beautiful, bossy little girl and a man our baby boy can look down upon and be proud of.

Happy Father’s Day to my Dad, a man who never forgets to remind me that I will always be his baby girl.

Happy Father’s Day to both of my fathers-in-law, two men that can always put a smile on my face, even in the darkest of times.

To all of the other dads out there:  Happy Father's Day.  Tell your kids you love them, the rest will fall into place somehow.