We’ve been together a long time, you and I. We’ve literally grown up together, making the transition from broke college students who scrounged together our last dollars from our work study jobs for the occasional dinner date, to our multiple degrees and new house in Austin. We’ve evolved from irresponsible young adults to semi-responsible parents of three (plus a fur baby!) who consider a good time to be a double dinner date where we’re home by midnight.
What happened to us? Who were those carefree kids that once complained about their lack of free time? Little did we realize that not only did we have all the time in the world back then, but we also had no idea what exhaustion truly was.
I’ll admit it — sometimes I miss us. I miss the people we used to be, and I’m tired of being tired. Sometimes I just want to go back to the days of sleeping in on Saturdays and slowly making our way to brunch. I miss the spontaneity of nights out and our late night talks about all the dreams and goals we had for ourselves and our future. I’ll find myself drifting off in thoughts of a previous life, only to hear the pitter patter of our little people entering the room. Much to our dismay, it’s before noon. Yes, I miss the old us, but this new life? It’s so much more.
I probably don’t tell you enough, but I appreciate all that you do for our little family. You’re the dad that wakes up on Saturdays to take our middle child to swim, then scoops up both boys to tire them out at the park before nap time. You always respect my need for work time, girl time with our daughter, or just a little time to myself.
As simple and cliched as those words are, they couldn’t be more fitting. This stage of life is hard — I mean, really hard. We’re buried deep in the trenches of tween sass, toddler meltdowns, and the testing of so many boundaries. It would be easy for us to grow apart in such a stage and under such pressure, living far away from our families and being forced to form a new village because we chased our dreams of warm weather living. We are risk takers, you and I — sometimes it pays off, and sometimes we learn our lessons the hard way, albeit together.
I want you to know how that grateful I am for you and this life we have together.
Thank you for all the mornings you let me sleep in, and for the late nights you get up with the kids when they’re sick or have a nightmare.
Thank you for showing our boys what it means to be a hands-on parent, and setting the bar high for our daughter by showing her how a loving partner should treat her someday.
Thank you for always remembering my coffee order and that I prefer flour tortillas over corn.
Thank you for never batting an eye when I tell you that I need a night out or for knowing that when I give you “the look” — you know, the frazzled, going-to-lose-it one — that I just need a minute away from everything.
Thank you for admitting that you’re really bad at doing laundry — and thank you for doing it anyway.
Thank you for being kind to my friends and family. You’d be surprised how many spouses aren’t.
Thank you for always stocking the fridge with my favorite beverages.
Thank you for never questioning me when I call and tell you on your way home from work that it has been one of “those days,” and a pizza or some form of take-out needs to happen STAT.
Thank you for not judging me about my Juiceland obsession.
Thank you for letting me choose our home decor, even if you secretly hate some of it.
Thank you for always making me feel beautiful, even when I know that I look anything but.
Thank you for always dreaming big with me.
To my husband on Father’s Day, I honor you and the many ways you show me and our kids what a fantastic father you are. Thank you for waking up each morning and choosing us.
Though we reflect back on our younger days with utmost nostalgia, I actually have a confession — I love who we’ve become, as well as who we’re becoming. I love watching us grow together, and watching you parent and love on our kids. I love being an adult with you — stress, fatigue and all. To my husband on Father’s Day, I know we’re in the trenches right now — deeply in them, if we’re being honest. Despite it all, being anywhere with you is still where I’d choose to be. Someday we will regain our Saturday mornings and go out for a date night without paying a babysitter the equivalent of our kids’ college tuition. For now, though? I’m content just standing still with you, loving you more with each passing day and being so grateful for everything that you are.
Thank you for this life.
And Happy Father’s Day.