When our daughter was born the following year his love for her was just as clear and deep. He cares for them in such a special way, with tenderness and joy, and it warms my heart and comforts my soul to see it. There is nothing like a father's love and my children enjoy it in spades.
He does all the things I do. He tickles them, bathes them, brushes their teeth. He does their laundry, makes their food and reads them books. He plays with them on the floor, kicks a soccer ball, shoots water guns. He laughs and soothes. He can magically transform a pre-meltdown moment into one full of giggles. He has his moments, he loses his cool and his patience wears thin, just like I do sometimes, just like they do sometimes, but the love is always obvious. How does he do it? He's dad.
Our kids are still too young to verbalize what a gift he is. Still, in their hearts - in their peaceful sleep, in their happy smiles and in their joy - they know. In their outreached arms after a fall, in their sleepy hugs at bedtime, they know. So until they can say it for themselves I'll say it. Thank you Miguel for all you do for our babies. And for making my experience of motherhood that much richer for having you as a partner in raising them.
|This picture is a couple years old but it's one of my all-time favorites.|