On Sunday we blessed August at church (more pictures and details forthcoming.)
My family came down Friday night and had to leave Sunday afternoon- so Saturday was crammed full of family time. From morning donuts to touristy visits to Temple square, then Mexican food for lunch and a hike through a nearby canyon. (Then a second hike, because the first one didn't lead to the waterfall we hoped.) Ice cream and burgers for dinner, a trip to the mall, and I was trying not to fall asleep at the wheel on the drive home. I stumbled in to bed exhausted. My poor husband had been running around all day too, despite having a pretty rotten head cold and we were both SO tired.
In the morning, I could barely prop my eyes open as I nursed August at 5am. But Boy thought it was time to get up for the day.
I pushed him over to Travis' side of the bed and moaned that I was going back to sleep.
Then I did.
And Travis got up.
He came to wake me about three hours later. Time for church.
He started to get the boys ready while I nursed the baby again. Travis took August and gave him a bath.
By the time I made it out to the kitchen, I was having a panic attack about how messy our house was-considering that we were having guests over right after church.
Travis showered quickly and finished getting Grey and Micah ready for church while I got myself ready and held a mini baby photoshoot. (Hashtag priorities.)
We were practically out the door before I remembered.
It was FATHER'S DAY, you guys!
He didn't get to sleep in and eat breakfast in bed, he was forced up early while sick!
He didn't get pampered with homemade cards or the boy-version of flowers (motorcycle parts?)
He didn't even get "Happy Father's Day!" from his wife and kids.
Instead, he got fatherhood. Early morning with a snuggly baby, the somewhat desperate struggle to dress himself with three (also undressed) boys who want all his attention, and a probably-cold shower because the boys were busy washing their hands repeatedly and I was throwing our sheets in the washer (because they'd been peed, puked, AND pooped on that morning.)
And that afternoon when the boys didn't nap at the same time and I grumbled that now NOBODY got a nap- he insisted on sending me to bed for a few hours.
"Please," he insisted. "Let me make you happy. That will make me happier than having a nap myself."
Those were his words.
Because he's amazing.
He is the greatest Dad, most caring husband, best jungle gym, sword-fighter, book reader, game inventor, Lego builder and wrestler around.
He is the beloved favorite parent that our boys go to whether they want to play or be comforted.
And I am overwhelmingly grateful, every day, that he is the father of my children. And no amount of breakfasts in bed could repay everything he does. (So no breakfast in bed for you, anyway, Travis. I guess.)
I missed Father's Day, and feel awful about it. Because if anyone deserves a holiday (and medal) for parenting - it's Travis.