the choices he made

(This was originally going to be up for Father's Day, but then I realized I had good reason to delay my post. My dad sold his business this week. I am so happy for him, and proud. Let's raise a virtual glass to Matrix Metal Machining. The end of an era, indeed.)

My dad is an entrepreneur, a small business owner. He is no stranger to hard work and sacrifice. But somewhere along the way he realized that the hours he spent building his business and the success that he earned could be taken from him in an instant. He chose to be married to his family, not his work.

And I can't thank him enough.

It would be unfair to suggest that his work was effortless and that there weren't copious amounts of blood, sweat and tears invested in his business. Nor am I suggesting that the road was easy, or that tremendous sacrifices weren't made by him, and mom, to provide for us. Tremendous sacrifices.

What I am saying, is that as his child, somehow I came through all that unscathed. Dad was always there when I needed him. He was his own boss, he set his priorities and his priorities set his hours.  The sacrifices made were not at my expense.

I can't tell you how many times I have called my dad at work over the years. And not one of those times, not even once, did he make me feel like a bother. Not when he was busy, not when he had clients sitting there, not even when I caught him at a really bad time. Not even once.

Growing up it felt like owning a small business meant having all the freedom to put your family first. Now I realize how far this is from the truth. Now I realize that this is true about my dad not because of what he does, but because of who he is and the choices he made. They must have been hard choices, impossible choices. But from where I sit, they were very good choices.

And I am grateful.

Thank you, dad.

And congratulations.

(since this post was about my dad, I didn't mention, but should have, that he was a co-owner of Matrix. Equal congrats to Mike as well. :)

all about her dada

We did a little keepsake questionnaire for Adam for Father's Day. I thought Anna's answers were too cute not to share.

ALL ABOUT MY DADA

By Anna, age 2 1/2

My dada's name is 'Dada'

He is 'big' feet tall

He weighs '6' pounds

He is '2' years old

His hair color is 'black'

His eyes are 'blue'

His favorite TV show is 'I don't know'

He likes to 'work'

His favorite food is 'cheerios'

His favorite drink is 'beer'

For fun he likes to go to the 'zoo with us'

I love it when my Dada 'bike'

My favorite thing about Dada is 'ride bike'

He makes me laugh when he 'gets me'

I love Dada 'cause I love Dada sooooo much!'

Happy Father's day, Adam!

do over, please

I'd like a do over on yesterday, please.

Let's just rewind and start again somewhere around 7:30 a.m. OK?

We'll get to church, you know, on time. And we will have been on the email list about the kinderchoir and know that it actually exists. We won't be told as we walk in the door that Anna is supposed to be singing... now.

And she'll do it. Our girl who spends most of her day singing will join her friends and teachers up front like she does almost every Sunday and sing with them. And my heart will burst with pride and joy just like the rest of the parents there. She won't scream, 'daddy!' and refuse to get off his lap, or at least he will sit up there with her and she will make it in the pictures like some of the shy-er children. This end of the year celebration will be joyful and meaningful and it will make me cry (in a non-frustrated and heartbroken way) and it will redeem all the Sunday's and sunday school's she had to miss this winter. These are the moments parents live for. What a milestone. I can't wait.

And then when we head downstairs she'll go play with her friends just like every other Sunday and she won't throw a fit. She definitely won't run upstairs and into the sanctuary to get her dad. She won't pee on him as he carries her downstairs and we definitely won't have to leave early - again.

We will also get to the Sunday School picnic on time and we won't have to wake her up from a much needed nap. There will be food she can eat and we will play all the games together. She will be her most cheerful, charming and adventurous self. These are the events that parents live for. It will be even more fun than last year. I can't wait.

And finally, when we get her to bed after a full and fulfilling day, she will go down easily and sleep soundly. She won't take over an hour to fall asleep. She won't make us get baby, or take baby back out of her room a dozen times. We won't close the door the wrong way, and if we do, she'll shrug it off, like a non-crazy person would. She definitely won't wake up and scream inconsolably from 1-2:30 a.m. requiring both parents to perform a miracle to get her back to sleep. She won't hit, throw or scream relentlessly. She won't even dream of it.

I can't wait. Yesterday is going to be amazing.

(full disclosure: she actually wasn't a total mess at the picnic. She was a little cranky and sleep deprived, but she gave it her best shot, all things considered).