Dads....

So, I sometimes get the impression that some people think that dads don't matter all that much.

Women who have babies knowing ahead of time that the guys are not good dad material. While I'm glad they decided to have their babies, a little more thought beforehand might have been a good idea. Because dads do matter.

Of course, it's the dads in these situations who are really messing up--and missing out. They may not know their own value because they didn't have a great relationship-or any relationship--with their own dad. So they settle for being an an every other weekend dad, or a once in a while dad, or a completely absent dad. It's sad all around, since dads really do matter.

If you don't believe me, just ask someone whose dad isn't in their life. Fortunately, many moms do an incredible job of being both mom and dad. And grandfathers, and uncles, and step-fathers can be amazing dad substitutes. But still, dads matter.

Dads matter because they are their sons' first example of who those sons should aspire to be, and their daughters' first example of how those daughters should expect a man to treat them. They matter because the way a child is treated by their parents--both parents--often sets the tone for how they will expect to be treated later in life, how they will allow themselves to be treated, how they will treat themselves, and how they will treat others.

I know that dads matter because I was fortunate enough to have an amazing dad.  He worked incredibly hard, and he raised most of his seven children--to some extent or another-- on his own after my mom died. And he did it well. He instilled in all of us values, and discipline, and most importantly, a love of life.

He made sure that we knew right from wrong, but he also made sure that we knew joy. And love. And laughter. He was often busy working, but he made time to take us to the beach. And the pool. And--to our dismay--Church. He instilled in us a love of travel, and people, and fun. He drove to Florida with six kids. Repeatedly. I don't know if that qualifies him for Sainthood, or just a medal, but I know it would qualify me to be heavily medicated, and I only have three kids.

There's more, but suffice it to say: I had an amazing dad.

And fortunately, so do my kids.

Oh sure, as his wife, I could tell you the five hundred different ways Jimmy knows to drive me crazy. And he could tell you the same about me. But one thing is certain: my kids have a great dad.

He works really hard his ass off. He loves us to pieces, even though we all have our own special ways of driving him to the brink of insanity. And sometimes beyond. He takes the kids to work with him. And fishing. And on nature hunts. And even shooting. Yes, this part scares me. But sometimes, that's a dad's job, too. He tells N how cool she is. He can deal with a tantruming B way better than I can. And he won't admit it, but O has him wrapped around his finger. He gives them haircuts, and hugs, and the last bite of his sandwich.

Most importantly, he gives them himself.

As a mom, I sometimes worry about my kids, and what the future holds for them. But I don't worry that my daughter will grow up and pick a bad guy because her dad didn't show her enough love. I don't worry that my sons will grow up not knowing what kind of men they are supposed to be, and I don't worry that any of them will ever say "I wish my dad had been there for me."

Because he already is.

Happy Father's Day to all the great dads out there.

You matter more than you know.







I was wondering what to get Jimmy for Father's Day. I mean, he has us. What more could he ask for? And then, the kids and I saw the perfect gift.

Sometimes when you see it, you just know.