Dads

Dad's, in my world, are completely different than moms.  My mom was the every day caretaker.  The lunch packer.  She was up at night giving medicine and was always the last one to bed.  She was the one who ran us to appointments and rushed to CVS for project supplies.

My dad was more the athletic director.  The grass mower.  The guy who played hard and was there for all the big stuff.  He was also a tad more "fun," especially as I got older.  He didn't fret about as much as my mom did, and he was not prone to those crazy freak outs.  Those pace all over and yell-into-the-air-to-no-one episodes that always kind of scared me.

Sorry mom. 

Mom, I get where your stress came from and why you weren't always a ball of laughs.  I also now, yell into the air to no one about stuff like unpacked lunch sacks.

Our house is much the same as mine was growing up, although Hubby has done a fabulous job of being involved in the daily tasks over these past several years.  He gets laundry sorted and he runs the kids where they need to be.  "Dads" have evolved a bit in the housework/childcare department since I was a kid.

Hubby is also, sigh, at times more "fun." But that is completely because he doesn't stress about how clean the house is or how many carpools need to be sorted for the week ahead.

He keeps it real, which keeps me real.  Usually.

Dads to me, are realists.  They lay down when they are tired, no matter how much mess is left uncleaned.  They help when they are asked, but they can't read minds.  They are more fun for the kids because they don't carry more weight on their shoulders than is necessary.

And truthfully, I need that kind of fresh air.  Kids do too.

Happy Father's Day to my athletic director, grass mower, fun, keep it real Dad and Hubby.

You've kept my blood pressure considerably lower over the years, and I love yas.

Muah (that's a kiss, from me).