fatherhood

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Dear Jack: That Time You Were a Men’s Hair Stylist…

12 years, 5 months.

Dear Jack,

Now that your hair is long enough to maintain the official “flipty do” hairstyle of all junior high boys across America, and now that I officially started taking you to my own barber as well, it was inevitable that you would convince Mommy to buy you your own curling iron to fix your hair in the morning.

When you took it out of the box after it arrived in the mail from Amazon, you announced to me:

“Look, Daddy- it comes with a special styling glove!”

This past weekend, your new official hairstyle was a hot topic while Aunt Dana and Uncle Andrew visited us.

So of course, you volunteered Uncle Andrew to get his own “flipty do” hairstyle!

Love,

Daddy

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Dear Holly: A Father’s Letter to His Daughter on Her 7th Birthday

7 years old today!

Dear Holly,

Thinking back to seven years ago on the day you were born and how I imagined you would be as a little girl, I would say my predictions were spot on.

You are so joyful, so adventurous, and so sweet.

After all, your middle name is Joy, and you have definitely lived up to that name!

I am actively reminding myself now that my youngest child is 7 years old, this is basically the last call for certain things a kid will do in my house.

Like last week when you turned a shipping box in to a car, using your imagination.

I cherish every moment I have with you. I celebrate your childhood. I don’t take having a beautiful young daughter for granted.

Hapy 7th Birthday!

I love you so much!

Love,

Daddy

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Dear Holly: The Car You Created from a Box

6 years, 11 months.

Dear Holly,

This past week we ordered an indoor grill. It made me realize, “I still have a child who is young enough to appreciate playing with a box.”

Without ever making an announcement nor asking anyone’s permission, you took it upon yourself to turn that shipping box into a car. I noticed it had three pedals on the floor, implying it’s a manual transmission like my Jeep.

You also proudly brought to my attention that on the inside of the car door, you drew a stethoscope; which I suppose was intended to be a more grandiose first aid kit than the one in my Jeep I keep with me.

It was a very relevant choice for you to build your car from the box.

Even now as I type this, you are sitting down in your box playing, while Mommy drinks her coffee on Sunday afternoon after church.

 

Love,

Daddy

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Dear Jack: You Lost 3 Teeth in the Past Week?

12 years, 4 months.

Dear Jack,

Last Thursday you came home, proudly announcing, “I lost a tooth today at school. I stored it in my mouth for the rest of the day.”

You then reached into your mouth and pulled the molar tooth out of its socket.

Then over the weekend on Saturday night, while we were at Nonna and Papa’s house in Alabama, you told everyone you thought you might be losing another tooth.

Within 30 minutes, you pulled it out. Apparently, the Tooth Fairy pays $20 for molars?…

And once we got home on Sunday night, just 24 hours later, you effortlessly pulled out a 3rd tooth.

I then mumbled under my breath: “This probably means puberty is on its way…”

 

Love,

Daddy

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Dear Holly: The Wheelchair from the Estate Sale

6 years, 11 months.

Dear Holly,

Your cousin Darla has an entire toy room at her house, which would otherwise be the official dining room.

While the two of you can easily play for hours with just the dolls alone, I was somewhat surprised to learn that an actual wheelchair is now included in the roster of toys.

You and your cousin take turns playing “hosptial”, based on who pretends to have a hurt leg and therefore has to be pushed down the hall.

Granted, your brother also tried out the wheelchair as well; which involved him rolling himself down the hill in the backyard and rolling over on his face.

Fortunately, this was not an ironic case of him actually needing the wheelchair due to his injuries.

 

Love,

Daddy