This is my 3rd Fathers Day with kids of my own, and each one is a little more special. I'm growing into a father, like all fathers do, and the role fits a bit more comfortably each year. I still sometimes think about how easy it was when we didn't have kids, but I get so much joy from Caleb and Danielle, it's hard to remember what life was like when peals of laughter weren't ringing through the house. (The other day, the house was completely quiet, and not in the what are the kids doing now kinda way, but the simultaneous napping kinda way, and it was this eerie feeling, as though a limb was missing or something just wasn't right. Later on, when the kids were both screaming, I tried to remember what that silence was like.)
I'm not a great father by any stretch of the imagination--I get distracted, and my patience runs short, and there always seems to be 5,000 other things to do rather than play with my kids (our basement is amazingly clean. It's bizarre.), but it's fun being a father. I just enjoy my kids. Tonight, Caleb and I chased lightning bugs, and it was pure delight. We run and dance around the house, we laugh and roll around on the floor together... and it's just fun. He's an awesome little man, and I enjoy him.
It makes it hard to enjoy Danielle. She's growing into a toddler, becoming more and more adventurous each day, but I'm so used to the level of interaction with Caleb that it's hard to go back to her level, when words don't do much good and play is so limited. But she's growing into an amazing little person, and she laughs with abandon, too. It's a fun time in this house.
Love is a gift. I've been given lots of it, and it's fun to pour it out on these kids, watching them soak it in and helping them grow into the children they will become.