Four-Wheeler Bonds: A Day in the Life Sunday

On July 19, 1910, the governor of the U.S. state of Washington proclaimed the nation’s first “Father’s Day.” However, it was not until 1972, 58 years after President Woodrow Wilson made Mother’s Day official, that the day became a nationwide holiday in the United States.

Photo credit: iStockphoto

Photo credit: iStockphoto

Whether we choose to have a day to recognize a mother, father, grandparent or any another influential relationship in a child's life, or not, children need adults in their lives who love and adore them - always.

Because it's Father's Day, let's talk about dads.

Dads are cool.

I remember reading early on in my pregnancy about the tremendous ability a father has to influence the lives of their daughters. As much as this mom wanted her daughter to be hers and hers alone, she can't deny that there is a special connection between a dad and his daughter.

Neither will ever fully understand what it's like to be the other but that doesn't stop them from connecting. Rather, it creates a wide open space for dads and daughters to create their own unique experiences.

I knew our daughter was going to be in good hands.

In between four-wheeler rides, tubing, sledding, fishing, canoe rides, maybe-not-so-appropriate movies, bad jokes, You-Tube animal videos, late morning sleep-ins, McDonald's meals and visits to the neighbors, this father provides his daughter with a calm steady presence, unconditional love, respect, encouragement and a voice of reason to my maybe-a-little-overprotective motherly emotion.

Raising a child is joyful, but not easy. This dad stepped up to the challenge. Our daughter is growing into a confident, independent, capable and strong teenager. She's kind, respectful and funny.

Above all, she loves her dad.

Happy Father's Day, Bill.

Four-Wheeler Bonds: A Day in the Life Sunday by Lisa Rosendahl first appeared on lisarosendahl.com

Mothers and Their Daughters: A Day in the Life Sunday

She has her head on my knee and I run my fingers through her hair as she settles in for an early bedtime. She is my daughter and I am her mother. This is my story.

I love this kid more than life itself and there isn't anything I wouldn't do for her. Growing up, I did not have a child of my own boldly planted on my life radar but now that I have a daughter, I can't imagine my life without her.

I remember being pregnant and laboring over what I would do if the baby was sick and I had to be at work. Well, that was a waste of time because the first time she was sick, the choice was clear. She came first and everything else, from that moment on, became a distant second.

I am committed to her. I am committed to her knowing that she is loved, that she matters and that she belongs. I am committed to not imposing my fears, insecurities and doubts on her and letting her discover and experience the world through her own eyes and in her own way.

Simple, right? No, it's not. A recent early morning series of texts between us went like this:

Her:  Please, please, please come pick me up before school starts.
Me:   What's up?
Her:  Momma, I'm exhausted and just need to sleep, please pick me up.
Me:   Hang in there and go to the nurse if you feel sick and she will call me. 
Her:  Please momma please, I need you. You have to come get me.
Me:   I will come early at 3:30. Love you. 

My inner voice spoke, she'll be fine, she's in a safe place, the school will call if she is sick, she was up late last night, as the texts continued. I responded  thoughtfully to each request from my daughter as I watched the clock tick to 8:40 am, the time when school starts and both the pleading texts of a tired kid and the almost tears of a mother torn would be packed away for the day.

Watching her drift off to sleep now, I wonder what story my daughter would tell.