Happy Father’s Day, Dads!

by | Jun 21, 2009 | Parenting/Family, The Hubs | 9 comments

I believe men really get a raw deal in these days of such progressiveness.

Happy Father’s Day, Dads!

I read/see/observe slam after slam after slam on how poorly men behave, dress, don’t pick things up, can’t find things in the fridge, scratch their bellies, fart, breathe wrong, and/or don’t put their dirty clothes in the laundry basket. To name a few.

I am not saying there isn’t truth ringing in the claims listed and not listed above. However, sweeping generalizations are dumb.

I believe most men, like most women… are not perfect!

*gasp* I just said women are not perfect. Don’t hit me.

But I also believe we don’t want “perfect”. 

I believe most regular fellas out there are just guys trying to figure things out in the midst of sorting through stress and circumstance and fridges with a ketchup bottle that never gets put away in the same spot.

And now my point – kids need their daddies.

They need what Mommy simply cannot provide. Dads provide something that Moms just can’t. I can’t give a list. I can’t draw a picture. I can’t describe it in a poem. But there is just “something” about what a father can give to his children.

As I write, my husband is wrapping up a 5 day camping trip with my son. This is probably their 6th year of going to this Father/Son camp with a group of other guys. Those guys do things at Boys Camp we moms would NEVER allow, consider or conceive. And those boys need that. They need to be brainwashed.


Like running with large logs and chasing friends. *mommy gets chills*

I also adore my husband and though I find myself questioning his decisions (because I am always right) I trust him. I trust him not only with my son’s physical needs, but also his emotional needs. I trust him with our daughters too.


May 2009


August 2005

And this is where our modern-progressive society ticks me off. Dads/men often get painted as mindless, witless, blobs who scratch their bellies and play xBox in their basements while the kids run amuck feeding themselves corn chips, dirt and pop.

OK. I know this happens, but again – the EXCEPTION and not the rule. Even if it is one night a month *ahem* 😉

As women whine and complain about “men”… do they forget that they are talking about their sons?

Also, Ladies with sons – as we criticize and make fun of “men”, our sons are hearing this. They are forming opinions about their fathers and themselves… and sadly, opinions about who they are becoming.

Our sons are future daddies, future husbands… future men.

As we speak ill of this “group” it is easy to lose sight of the fact that we have birthed and profoundly love that which we criticize, judge and… sadly (in some cases), hate.

I love my husband. He works hard. He is an honorable man with integrity. He loves us deeply.

He leaves his dirty clothes on the floor, and steps over stuff. He makes the BEST margaritas. He half-listens and fully listens.

He plays the guitar. My kids LONG to spend time with their daddy. He looses his cool, but he is more patient than me.

I appreciate that because he wrestles with the kids, I do not need to. I hate wrestling.

Some nights when we lay in bed, we talk in the dark and laugh… laugh… laugh… usually “one-upping” each other in comedic one-liners. He is not easily angered, and has an admirable and amazing ability to “mend and keep fences”… He is a peacemaker. He is not perfect, he admits it, and I adore him.

I would say the best choice I have made for my life was to choose him – for my husband… for the father of our children.


And if you look closely, you will see he spilled margarita down the front of his shirt.

We believe he has a small hole in his lower lip.

And he’s mine… ALLLLLL mine 😉

Hi, I'm Jenny :)

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