To my babies on their third birthday,
I didn’t think I’d be having any more kids after Isa and Gabi. And then your daddy came into my life. And I thought, ok, MAYBE one more. Maybe…
Little did I know then, that we would be doubly blessed.
Born less than a year after the death of your great grandmothers on both sides, you girls have their strong and spunky spirits in you, as well as their names
. You’ve made our family complete and have brought us such joy.
A day doesn’t go by where we aren’t amazed by the things you say and do. You bring happiness to all around you.
Happy birthday, Ema and Sara. You are so loved.
Seven is the age of Kidhood. Where the traces of little girl are fading. The baby teeth smile is a thing of the past. And the time has come where she wants to do and say things that are classified as Big Kid.
She sings along to songs on the radio, the lyrics flying out of her mouth that she hs no connection to their actual meaning.
Turn it back, Dad, that’s my song!
“And all the other boys,
Try to chase me,
But here’s my number,
So call me, maybe?”
She talks about boys at school in terms of which one is her crush and which one has a crush on her.
She picks out what she wants to wear and tells me that she won’t wear that one dress because it’s too babyish.
She says, oh I’ll do my makeup in the car, as she rushes out the door holding her lipgloss.
She selects her meal and places the order with the waiter herself with a big proud smile.
She still says her R’s like W’s but she’s trying hard to fix that. And though I know she needs to speak correctly, I’m going to miss the days when she would say Best Day Evuh!
She’s the middle kid and is trying so hard to be grown like her big sister but still wants to be babied like the twins.
Today, for her birthday we had a Mommy – Gabi day. I took her to the mall to Build-A-Bear and then to lunch at BJ’s.
At dinner, my family came over and we had pizza and cake. Just as she wanted.
Before bed, she said she had the best day and her favorite part was the time she spent with me.
I’m so proud and amazed by my Gabi. My spunky kid.
We are still going to have a party with her friends in a few weeks. But today was just about her.
She wore the hugest smile and I was so glad I took the day off of work to spend with her.
He is kind.
He is patient.
He shows he cares.
He holds you to the rules.
He remembers the things that you tell him.
He smiles with you.
He hugs you.
He plays with you.
He spends time with you.
He kisses you.
He lifts you up.
He knows what you care about.
He teaches you.
He encourages you.
He helps you.
He lets you try.
He’s there for you.
My post from last year – Father’s Day 2012
If you’re new around here, you may not know that Marco and I met in college. (a long time ago)
Once upon a time, he was a frat dude and I was a sorority girl. We had been seeing each other for a while and he asked me to his fraternity formal. These functions were more than just a night out in a fancy dress and heels. They were weekends away in exotic locations like Palm Springs.
We had a great time. But going out of town with your semi-kindof-undefined-boyfriend can be a lot of pressure. And maybe, just maybe, I was a little neurotic and nervous and weird. But hey, there was champagne, and party punch, and a whole lot of my sorority sisters. It was a good time.
The morning of our departure, we groggily ate breakfast/lunch at Denny’s. I had finally gotten to the point where I was relaxed and gotten over my anxiety over it. It had turned out to be a great time and we were ready to go home.
And then… it happened.
Our food was served. Marco reached out to feed me a french fry. Awww, how sweet right?
What I did not know, is that he had dipped that fry in tabasco sauce.
I was expecting a tasty fry dipped in ketchup. I was NOT expecting my mouth to be on fire.
I can only imagine the look on my face. I quickly drank water. But it didn’t help. He tried to offer me his soda. I turned away from him.
And he LAUGHED!
I don’t even remember if I ate anything after that. I do remember I was so angry. Seething.
He was all, “I didn’t know!”
Well, gee if you didn’t know that I didn’t like hot sauce on my fries, how can we ever make it as a couple?!!
I didn’t speak to him the entire two and a half hour drive home. He tried to hold my hand, I remember. I barely let him. I was determined to make him pay for doing that.
And that was the first time I got mad at Marco. By the time we got home, I had calmed down and we were ok.
But twenty-plus years later, and we still laugh about that.
What? Did you think I was going to talk about some other kind of First Time?