Sometimes, when I watch them, I think they are plotting to knock me off my throne.
Sometimes, I think they are in on a secret that I am not.
Sometimes, when I watch them, they talk with their eyes and completely understand each other.
Sometimes, when I watch them, they cuddle, and I marvel at how perfectly they fit together.
Sometimes, they kick around a ball in the backyard and I think they make a great team.
Sometimes, when I eavesdrop on them through the monitor, I wonder what they are whispering about.
Sometimes, when I watch them, they *cheers* juice cup to beer mug, and I can't help but giggle.
Sometimes, when she cries, it's only his arms and his voice that can comfort and calm her.
Sometimes, when I catch her holding his hand, I can't help but feel a bit mushy.
And sometimes, I sit back and am in awe of my little person and my amazing husband. He is raising a beautiful, confident daughter. She is molding a compassion and loving father.
And I marvel and I sit in awe and I remember...
My dad comforted me, and his dad comforted him.
My dad played ball with me, and his dad played ball with him.
My dad celebrated my accomplishments, and his dad celebrated his.
My dad taught me a lot about parenting, and his dad taught him a lot about fatherhood.
And I am thankful, not just for her.
Not just for him.
But for our fathers, who taught us, held us, loved us and watched us turn into the parents we are.
So, because of her. And to him. And to the them...
Happy Father's Day.