Dear Parks,

Yesterday I didn't feel good and your dad's Father's Day didn't turn out well at all. In fact, it just didn't turn out. I'm trying to make myself feel better by telling myself that I made a HUGE big deal out of it last year as it was his first and you were a week old. See, I didn't get my first Mother's Day until this year. You were born smack in the middle of the two.

But, it doesn't matter. I should have tried to do better-despite the fact of being tethered to the toilet most of the day.

There's really no way for me to express to you how super cool your dad is. One day, you will find out.

I find that if I try to make myself list all the ways that make him as wonderful as he is...I start to cry. And that look isn't flattering on me at all. But, I'm going to try to give you just a few anyway.

1) The only time I've ever known your dad to cry was the night you were born and in the NICU. That's it. In fact, because I was incapacitated, *I* didn't even see it. Someone told me. He told me later that he just couldn't handle it. Your dad freaks out often when it comes to things he "can't handle" but he never, EVER cries. He just loves us a whole, whole lot and that night carried a lot of emotion for him.

2) Your dad openly admits-at least on a weekly basis-that his favorite thing to do in the whole world is hang out with the two of us.

3) He read the Dr. Sears Baby Book and decided you MUST eat beets. I know you don't see this as "kind" now. But, its kind of like discipline. It hurts us more than it hurts you. Actually, I'm not eating the beets...so it's probably going to hurt you more. But I promise it means he loves you. The same goes for the spinach. (Don't worry. I'll slip you napkins to spit it into)

4) He ALWAYS gets out of the bed in the middle of the night to get you a bottle. I sit in the bed, rub your head while you scream, and bark orders listing all the things needed: "BABA, STAT. FIGHTER, STAT. NEW DIAPER, STAT."

5) When I wander over to whatever he is doing while I am doing NOTHING and state "She pooped" he walks over to you without a word, picks you up (TRYING NOT TO PUSH ON YOUR BUTT!!!) and takes you to change your diaper. Sometimes I provide wipey support. Sometimes I finish doing whatever important thing it is that I was doing...like watching a McDonald's commercial and NOT GAGGING.

6) He gives your morning pee pee diapers "Purple Hearts" for being wounded in the line of duty because they are so full.

7) He lets you bite him. Like, on purpose.

8) He rubbed my feet EVERY SINGLE NIGHT of my pregnancy. Not that he didn't complain about it. But, who cares about complaining when you know a foot rub is coming?

9) His office is wallpapered with pictures of you in various stages of development. When anyone enters, he gives them detailed information concerning each one.

10) Every morning when we wake up he tells us "Good Morning" then asks if we slept well and then tells us he loves us. I can't tell you how often Daddy's DON'T do that.

And since we're here...Let's take this to 11.

11) He gets off work later than I do but still picks you up from GG's every day (an hour and a half trip in bumper to bumper rush hour traffic) just so I can have time to wind down and write.

And I don't think he'll ever understand what that means to me.

So, I hope that when you are 15-years-old and filled with angst and spite, you remember that every time you tell him he "sucks", his heart is going to break a little. Go easy on him. He's a big softy when it comes to you. Not that I'm not. But, I'm much more inclined to beat you first and ask questions later.

I don't think that point was more illustrated than two nights ago when you were having another difficult night sleeping and we were doing a version of "Cry It Out" that consisted of letting you cry for two minutes at a time and then coming in to soothe you after which we put you right back in the crib. This was a grievous insult to you and after the fourth trip where I held you until you calmed down and tried to lay you back down, your father entered the room and you began squealing at the top of your lungs, "DA DA DA DA" and hurling your body towards him. He moved to take you away from me and I quickly told him to leave the room and informed him in my best military voice that, "the enemy has identified the weak link and is working to divide the troops". He quickly ducked out of the room but not before he yelled back at me, The General, that he would "do it but it felt like his skin was being peeled from his body."

Love,
The General