Since Alex was out of town yesterday (Father's Day), and I was sitting around on Facebook feeling guilty for not being that wife telling the world (or at least her world of Facebook) how awesome my husband is and that he's the best dad in the world, which by the way is pretty impossible. Like there isn't some other amazing dad out there who's just slightly better than your husband (although I'm sure your husband is great, too)? Nelson Mandela was probably a pretty awesome father. I can name more. Sorry...sometimes Facebook gets me fired up like that. Where was I?
So yesterday I wasn't really sitting around on Facebook feeling guilty. My cynical side was checking Facebook simply to see all the ridiculous aforementioned posts concerning Father's Day when I decided, in a momentary lapse of romanticism, to show that my husband is really the best there is (except for maybe Nelson Mandela...or Ghandi). Here was the plan: get the kids to hold handmade signs reading "Happy Father's Day;" take a picture and post-it. Cute, right? I was also going to include some yada yada yada sentimental note about how the world wouldn't exist without Alex...and then these were the photos I was left to work with:
Catcher plotting; Scout plotting.
Tillie cheering for herself.
I turns out that my perfect idea wasn't so perfect in execution (at least not from a look-at-how-cute-my-well-behaved-little-angels are standpoint). But posting something like that would not have been me anyway. I relish actual life moments because it isn't all vacations and date nights and good hair days as Facebook would have us believe. My husband isn't the best father in the world, and I'm not the best mother in the world. Not by a long shot. More importantly, we're in this together and figuring it out as we go. We're doing the best that we can, and that gives me faith. Faith that everything will turn out perfectly in the end.