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Sunday, June 20, 2010

Happy Father's Day!

Hooters Hot Wings...Monster Energy Drink...Jelly Donuts

Ahhhh...Father's Day.

It's been hectic around here and after coming back from Napa we hit the ground running.

I wanted to take just a couple minutes (although more minutes are deserved) to give a shout out to my baby daddy!

You know dads of special needs kiddos often go unnoticed. They hide away in their work, their projects, their sports, their whatever. They deal with things differently. They aren't usually the ones on the forefront. They aren't the ones meeting therapists, learning new stretching techniques, researching possibilities. These dads probably aren't crying out loud, fighting with insurance companies, ordering equipment, or blogging about progress and speed bumps. They don't run this marathon the same way.

No. They don't necessarily do it the same way as the Mamas.

They might offer to watch the kids so the Mamas can get a break. They offer encouraging words in moments of despair. They work an extra few hours or side jobs in order to afford extras for their kids. They might cry silently, privately, where nobody can see.

Okay, so I'm about to get all symbolic and analogous, but stay with me.

As far as my own marathon goes, Christian's dad is my coach. He's the word of encouragement that tells me to keep running. He's the comfy tennis shoes I need to run in. He's the bottled water I need to rehydrate. He's my support. And he's also running right there along side with me, waiting to cross the finish line.

I'm not quite sure how I would have gotten through the last year in my life without my husband or my own dad. It was my dad who rushed to my side when Christian was in the hospital. He came when I needed my daddy. And it was my husband who walked through the darkness with me, out of the PICU, through the last year, and is still standing, running, with me today.

Manny doesn't try out new therapy positions on Christian. He doesn't bounce on the ball with him or practice rolling. No. He does a much better kind of therapy. He holds him in his big daddy arms every single night. Every. Single. Night. And every single night, it takes my breath away. I think it might be one of the better therapies in Christian's routine. Just sayin'.

So, after getting all softy on everyone, to the daddy's in my life, to the special needs daddy's, and to daddy's everywhere, Happy Father's Day!

Thanks for running.

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