Thank you.

We started this Father's Day morning the usual way, rushing around, trying to get ready, and unpacking bags and desperately trying to find shoes just so we could get out the door on time. We made it to church, we sang, we prayed, we headed to Lowe's and to pick up groceries on the way home. We unpacked from two weeks worth of running around the state of Washington and only a few random nights in those two weeks spent in our own beds. We cleaned, put away, straightened up, entertained the kids, and prepared dinner for the grandparents to celebrate Father's Day.

Dear Jeremy,
Amidst all of that today, the chaos, the standard rhythm of our day, the exhaustion from being on the go nonstop lately...all the while you had patience, you had humor, and you made "pizza boats" with the kids for lunch. You saved Penny from impending doom, you swept the kitchen, and you buckled kids into carseats. You winked at me from across the room, you held my hand during church and you hugged me and told me I made a good pizza boat, just as you did for your son and your daughter. You picked the vegetables you started from seeds by the front window months ago, you unpacked the car, and you made everyone dinner-because this was your wish. I sit back in awe of it all every day, and why should today be any different? You are an amazing father, giving your children gifts in experiences and teaching them the fatherly standards, like fishing, and hiking, skiing, growing vegetables, swimming, and how to talk in a bad British accent. But you also give your kids a million other little gifts in the extra minutes you snuggle with them after they've fallen asleep, the way you look them in the eye and hug them tight and tell them you're proud of them, and the way you smile at them when you're across the room while they're too busily immersed in their playing to notice. Thank you for being a father that has unending love, a lot of patience, and the desire to do things with them that invite a little craziness into our lives. Thank you for being the driving force to getting us all out in the rain, making a mess of the kitchen, and going for hikes so long it takes us all days to recover. Thank you for making us laugh, wiping away our tears, and making sure we all have ice in our water. Thank you for knowing how to drive in the snow, the quickest way to set up the tent, and for keeping your (many, many) spreadsheets. Thank you for being our provider, thank you for your patience, and thank you that your love is so big, even when it's split three ways. I love you.

Love, me

Parks at 6 months.

Welcoming a minute old Everly.

Our here and now.

Tonight's bounty that Jeremy picked for us.