When He Became a Dad.

  

I've had the privilege of knowing B.J., my precious husband, since we were twelve. Practically babies. He was cute, smart, athletic and super creative. In high school, he was so cool, though in that bad boy sort of way. He was a rebel of sorts, usually hanging with the older groups, and always causing the teachers to roll their eyes. Everyone liked him. And me, I was completely smitten with him. I adored this brown-eyed, tall, quiet boy.

And the rest is history. He made me a wife, I made him a husband. And it was very good.     
Then. Oh! THEN he became a dad. While it's been an amazing journey, THIS part. This part is my favorite.

The day the twins were born. The day he became a dad.  Even through my labor, he was awesome. We will never forget those seventeen hours. Such tender moments. Such stress-filled moments. And, a moment of fear, when the doctors said "Baby A's head is stuck, we need to do an emergency c-section. Now."
B remained so calm. And when they pulled those babies out, his face lit up like the fourth of July.  I just knew he was going to be awesome. I mean, the man changed poopy diapers before I did. And I'm pretty certain he changed most of them for the two weeks following. I fell in love with him all over again.

 Bringing babies home. We became a team like never before. There was no hesitation; I fed one, he took care of the other. And then, trade. There was no question, no complaints. Other than to the babies about their lack of comprehending day and night routine.
He was never hesitant to hold them, both of them. It was precious. And once the twins started sitting up, he was down there with them, playing cars, rolling balls, mesmerizing them with his silly faces. It's always been a riot watching him play with our kids.


We were both pleasantly surprised when we learned we were pregnant again. Another boy at that. [insert hysterical laughter here] Thank you Jesus.



This man has been my rock through these little years. For the first year of parenting, he would text me frequently, "Just breathe momma."
I will never forget that. I will never forget how compassionate he was our first year with two babies. And how strong he has been since. How many times I have broken down and he has stepped up. How he makes time for me and our boys. How his job can be so physically demanding, so stressful, yet, he comes home and manages to wrestle and play and be creative with our little ones.




Every day. He works hard to make a good life for us. He does it for us. I know it's not easy. I know the world is tough and cruel and demanding and enticing and says, "ditch the tough stuff, just do what you want." But he strives to be different. He is striving, always against the grain, to create a new legacy for his boys. One that will be rooted in faith, family, love, integrity and courage. I am extremely proud of this man. I am thankful to be his wife and the mother of his children. And in the beautiful chaos that is our wonderful loud and busy life, I don't tell him enough.

So I dedicate this post to you, B. 

 You are loved. You are blessed and you have blessed my life. Thank you.

Happy Father's Day my love.

...And a note to all the dads who are blessing their families and children, thank you. For being courageous enough to go against what the world tells you and bravely loving and being present for your families. Happy Father's Day!