My own father, who I now refer to as "Papa," has been a source of happiness and pride for me, particularly in these ""grown-up" years. My decisions, however surprising, have always been celebrated by my dad. He wears his heart on his sleeve and I love him for that. I know when he is proud, when he is having fun, when he is sad. He is a fantastic "Papa" to our two children and there is nothing better than that.
My husband, S. Who right now is lying in a twin bed with our oldest, helping her sleep after a tough evening of tears and disappointment. I don't believe in the whole "He changes diapers!" celebration of dads. I think that is an insult to them. Of course, he changes diapers. He is a father. But I will celebrate the special things...his fascination with our daughter's strong arms as she swings from monkey bar to monkey bar, his morning oatmeal ritual with our son, his special songs/stories he tells to the kids when they are inconsolable, the way he looks at them and then me and says, "We are so lucky."
Happy Father's Day, Papa and Steve.