Why I love Dads.

In this morning's paper, I ran across an associated press blurb about how fathers today are really feeling the struggles in the workplace. In short, they are beginning to feel the same pressures that women have been feeling for years - not enough time at home, not enough flexibility for family needs, and a general desire to be as active as possible in their primary position of Dad. A similar article can be found here.

My idea was that I would pop online, find the article, and then post it for all to read. I went to Google news, and typed "dads." No avail. Seems like everyone had an article about Dads today. Shocker, I know. So, then I tried "dads involved." Again, too many articles. Finally I tried "dads work" and went forward three pages to find the article I linked.

In this process, what I discovered was that there is a wealth of information out there about how Dads are becoming more actively involved in the home. How Dads are feeling the pressure AND desire to be far more involved and active than their fathers were. I had a hard time identifying with these articles because I always thought that's the way Dads were supposed to be. After all, it was how my Dad was. I guess I never appreciated that he wasn't the norm.

Some of my earliest memories are not of my mother staying home, but my father. I remember watching this nature-type show that was on the earliest version of the Disney Channel. Every morning, Dad and I would sit in his chair and watch, and then he would take me to my afternoon preschool. I vividly remember his brown chair and I would always sit on the right side of his lap. Then we would eat lunch, and he would drive me to school. The following year, I would go to morning Pre-School, and he would pick me up and take me to Taco Bell. I would always get a taco, with Dr. Pepper, and cinnamon twists. I swear Juneau, Alaska must have gotten the first Taco Bell ever; this was the early 1980s. Afterwards I would go with him to his work sites (he fixed and maintained modular homes). He called me "his shadow," a nickname that would resurface every time I found myself at his workplace.

Taco Bell and nature shows aren't the only thing I can thank my Dad for. While my mom definitely taught me a lot of what I know about the kitchen - it was my father that really instilled the importance of culinary skills. My 8th grade year, my mother moved to a job in Oregon. My father and I were left behind in Hawaii for a period of time. We cooked twice a week - on Sundays my Dad made Pot Roast with fresh garlic cloves stuffed inside. On Wednesday, I made goulash (well, a version of it, anyway). We ate the same thing every week - which hardly sounds gourmet. However I learned to cook those things well, and by the end of our time living there without my Mom, I gained an appreciation of "experimentation." I would add spices, more salt, less salt, cheese, no cheese. I learned what it really meant to be "one" with the kitchen.

My Dad was never one of those who worked his job and ignored his kids. Even in a time where that was acceptable. I owe who I am to my Dad as much as I do my Mom. However, I also owe something even more important - my marriage.

You see, I knew what I expected of in a partner. Boyfriends were great - but I was looking for something special in a husband. After all, a husband would inevitably be the father to my children. Because of the father that I had, I saw that as a very important job.

While I was cooking dinner tonight, my husband entertained my children with pictures on the Internet. No, not those kinds of pictures - but those of airplanes, sharks, killer wales, dolphins, and I'm not even sure what else. As I chopped the tomatoes and stirred the bread dough for the menu he ordered, I smiled at the elated sounds from our youngest household members. They delight in the company of their father. And not because he's novel - but because they are bonded, and connected. Their father is as integral a part of their life as I am. Neither he nor I would have it any other way. It's what I was raised with. As they say, what's good for the goose is good for the gander.

Happy Father's Day - to the man that gave me life, and to the man I chose to give my life to.