Father's Day is completely redundant and unnecessary in my house. As corny as this is going to sound, every day is Father's Day. James and Michelle make me feel like a billion dollars each and every day with a big hug and kiss and the sincerest "I love you Daddy" on the planet.
I've almost got 4.5 years of parenting experience under my belt and I'm learning something new every day. I find it interesting to compare and contrast my parenting techniques with Taryn's. She's a fantastic mother who is always reading books about parenting. Recently she read one about raising boys and now she's reading one about letting go as your children grow older. She's forever seeking professional opinion and shaping her parental style based on what she's read. This is quite the opposite of what I do.
For 4.5 years, I've been fathering on instinct and basing a great deal of my style on my own experiences as a child. With James, this has worked perfectly thus far. I know where he's been and what he needs and I give that to him as lovingly as possible. Talking the same language, I'm there to support him, feeding him both intellectually and emotionally, giving him his best chance to be a far greater person than I ever was. No book can show me the way. It's equal parts empathy, common sense, logic and impassioned love.
With Michelle, I can already tell it won't be quite as easy, but there's a bond so strong it empowers me as I attempt to give the same to her. Not quite twenty-two months old, it's too early to tell if we'll be on the same wave length, communicating on that exclusive plain reserved for children and their daddies, but I'm very confident we will.
Don't worry about the cards, kids. Daddy knows you love him a lot and I already feel so blessed it hurts.
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