There isn't a single part of parenting that gets left completely up to me. He prays for her, and with her. He plays dolls or blocks or baseball -even Dinah's version, which means if someone gets a hit, everyone runs the bases. He gives rides on his back, or attempts to draw whatever it is she asks. He feeds her, bathes her, reads to her, disciplines her, puts her to bed, cuddles with her, and attempts to fix her hair.
He gets up on Saturdays and lets me sleep. He doesn't mind at all if he has to watch her by himself. He does everything I do, and especially right now, sometimes more. She was three days old before I changed a single diaper. I thank God every day that I have the husband that I do, and that our daughter (and soon-to-be son) have the daddy they do. We couldn't ask for more.
I'll never tire of seeing the way she lights up when he walks in the door, or the look of absolute joy and contentment on her face when he dances with her. I'll always cherish hearing her sweet little voice praying "help Daddy get home" before we eat our lunch, while he's at work.
Thank you, Dean, for being the man you are. Thank you for working so hard to protect us, and provide for us, and love us. And yes, even spoil us. You may never understand how special you are to us, but I pray that you'll feel our love and appreciation daily.