Thanks Dad

I meant to hit publish on this the other day...technical difficulties. Not that it really matters - I'm thankful for Dad everyday.

"He didn't tell me how to live; he lived, and let me watch him do it." Clarence Budington Kelland

That quote always makes me think of my Dad.

My Dad wasn't much for sitting me down and telling me stuff. He didn't lecture, or scold, or huff. He still isn't, though I sometimes deserve a good talking-to. He's quiet, unassuming, and will move mountains to avoid conflict. My Dad is smart, funny, successful, responsible, hard-working, and lives his life with morals and ethics that most couldn't even hope to achieve.

If you're smart enough to pay attention, my dad sets a tremendous example for how to live a wonderful life. He teaches by example, which is why that quote is so fitting.

Dads are a great thing (mostly - I know a few who are not so great). They provide for and protect their family. Traditionally, it's the dad's role to make sure his kids have what they need. I didn't grow up in a traditional household; my Dad was my father and my mother. So he had to make sure I had what I needed - plus everything else.

I didn't truly appreciate all that my Dad had done for me until I became an adult. I'm not even really sure when it happened. I simply came to realize how much he had sacrificed, how much he had taught me, and how lucky I was to have him for a father.

Thank you, Dad. Thank you for reading to me at night, even before I can remember, and for making me read words back to you. Thank you for letting me sleep with a night-light, and making sure I had a bed-time. Thank you for making sure I did my homework, but never doing it for me. Thank you for never letting me win at a board-game - even if we were playing Stratego and Othello when I was five.

Thanks for trying to teach me to play Poker - sorry that didn't take. Some things skip a generation. Thank you for teaching me the value of a dollar by giving me a budget to spend on school clothes. Thank you for also being very generous with that budget. Thank you, too, for all the bailouts and help over the years, when the whole "value of a dollar" thing has gotten a little fuzzy.

Thank you for teaching me how to work hard - and also how to work smart, so that eventually, I wouldn't have to work so hard. Thanks for teaching me how to drive - and then making me buy my own car. Thanks for coming to all those awful school concerts - and for listening to me practice flute at home, even if you did ask that I do it in my bedroom with the door shut.

Thanks for never snooping, but instead trusting that I would either make good decisions, or find good advice. Thanks for not laughing at me when I made mistakes, anyway, and for helping me out when I did. Thanks for being one of the first people on the planet to own a personal computer, and for teaching me how to use one before many of my friends could write their own name.

Thank you for dragging me to the cemetery to visit family memorials every year. Thank you for keeping in touch with our extended family, even after divorce. Thank you for teaching me the value of family, in its many forms.

Thank you for teaching me to love and respect, rather than to judge and hate. Thank you for teaching me that I'm not better than anyone, and if I think I am, that automatically makes me worse.

Thank you for everything that you did for me growing up, and for all that you continue to do for me now that I'm an "adult." I'm lucky to call you Dad - and even more honored to call you friend.

Best years of your life

Found here

For Christmas, my dad gave me a 365 day Things Cats Teach Us calendar. It's on my desk at work, and each morning I flip the page to see what cute kitty picture and inspirational quote will cheer me on to 5 pm.

"The best years of your life are the ones in which you decide your problems are your own. You do not blame them on your mother, the ecology, or the president. You realize that you control your own destiny." ~ Albert Ellis

Some people think the best years of your life are when you're a little kid. No worries, no responsibility, and everything is new and exciting. You're not jaded. You don't yet know about heartbreak or loss, and everyday is a great day.

Some people think the best years of your life are your twenties. You [probably] don't have too much responsibility, and your whole life is still in front of you. You haven't yet felt time start to slip away, and it feels all you'll ever have is opportunity.

Some people think the best years of your life are your thirties. You have responsibility, but you've also started to figure out what you want, and need - and more importantly, how to get it. Life has taught you some things about loss, and hopefully you've learned how to collect the lessons and push forward.

I've been told that the best years of life happen in your forties. You're old enough to know what you want - and young enough to get it. (I'm counting on this being true!)

I like the idea that the best years can happen during any - or all - of these times. It's all about you and your attitude and what you're open to learning and understanding. Your quality of life has nothing to do with the date on the calendar or what problems you face, and everything to do with your attitude and how you manage.

The best years of my life started the day I realized I didn't know everything. I opened myself up to the possibility that people have as much (if not more) to teach me as I have to teach them. My best years started when I let go of blame and anger, accepted my faults, and set out to fix them.

My years keep getting better because each day is a new chance to remind myself that I may not be perfect - but I'm not so bad, either.

Kissing is stupid

More adventures with the 5YO:

5YO (after seeing a man and woman kiss): How does that happen?

Me: Stupidity.

5YO (mouth wide): That's a bad word!

Me: Yes, but it's the most honest answer you'll ever hear to that question.

5YO: (Giggles)

Enjoy your Friday! Remember - kissing gives you cooties.

 

Found it here