18th Father’s Day

I can’t let Father’s Day slip away too far without a few words about my husband. It seems so long ago now, when I first met him, and he told me that he has four kids. It didn’t scare me away, believe it or not! I remember very well the evening that I first met them, how small they were, competing with each other to make me laugh.

We didn’t know back then that someday, we would still be intertwined and going strong. Yesterday was the 18th Father’s Day that I celebrated with my husband and the kids, and so much has changed! Two of those kids now have kids of their own, and all four of them are busy finding their own paths and their own ways.

One thing never changes and never will. I love watching him with the kids today just as much as I did that evening long ago: laughing, talking, joking, finishing each other’s stories, and reminding me again and again exactly why I love all of them so much.

Newborn

I have been writing about my stepchildren ever since they were small enough to fit in my lap, and I could easily pick them up. I remember lifting them up so they could reach the sink to wash their hands, helping them sound out words as they read out loud, and watching their dad tuck them in at night, barely able to hold their eyelids open as they insisted they were not sleepy at all.

Well, they’re not so little anymore. All four kids are now adults, all in their 20s, except the youngest, who is 19 and getting ready to soon leave the teenage years behind her.

Two and a half years ago, I held the newborn son of my younger stepson, and part of me is still in disbelief that he is a dad now. Last night, my husband and I introduced ourselves to the newest member of the family, just born yesterday afternoon, the son of my older stepson and his wife.

I was being silly, whispering baby talk nonsense, gently rocking back and forth, when the baby’s sleepy eyes peeked open, regarded me curiously for a moment, and then he smiled. My heart nearly burst. Is there any greater honor to receive than a baby smile?

Just when I thought I couldn’t get any more emotional, a few moments later, after trading places with my husband, I watched him envelop that tiny baby with protective hands, talking gently to him, with a teeny baby hand resting on his chest. It was beautiful to see, hard to describe, but a moment when all I could feel was love.

Babies are innocent and pure. Everything is brand new and enchanting. They embody infinite possibilities and potential, magic and wonder. They enrapture us, their every move and gaze and gesture delightful.

Welcome to the world, little guy. I hope you love it as much as we all already love you.

Happiest

When the alarm went off this morning, I was nowhere near ready to get out of bed yet. I was comfy, cozy, content, snuggled up in my husband’s arms. I smacked the snooze button about half a dozen more times than I should have, just for the luxurious delight of rolling back over, tucking in close to him again a little bit longer.

I have a co-worker who regales me with dramatic tales of the men in her life. It’s entertaining for sure, but I get tired just listening to her! I have to laugh, because I hear her talk about fancy dinners, huge parties, jealousy issues, arguments, expensive trips, and I know she would think my idea of a perfect evening is boring as hell.

I am happiest just being at home with my husband, no grand plans, simply enjoying each other and talking and laughing. An occasional weekend trip is fun, but we are both always happy to get back home. It makes sense, because we have built our home together over many years, and it’s our sanctuary and peaceful place.

Speaking of that, I am eyeing the clock as I type, because it’s nearing quitting time at work. The weekend is promising to be a rainy one, and that is perfectly fine with me. I won’t turn down a drizzly, peaceful morning, sleeping in, no alarm clock, no particular place to be, the whole day waiting just for the two of us.

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